《August Intruder [Progression Fantasy]》


 ONE: Everythings Going To Be Alright

    The trembling was odd.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t new to trembling or fear. There were situations that caused people to tremble. The cold was one of those situations. No, that was different, his mother called that shivering. It was very much like trembling but it wasn¡¯t. When his brother, Ark, got mad that one time when he found someone bullying him and had beat them up terribly, he had been shaking at the end of it. That was trembling.


    But this was not that. That had been because of rage. What Melmarc was going through was because of fear.


    The building shook again. Pain flared from the injury in his side and his trembling worsened. He wished the trembling would just stop. It made the pain hurt more.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± his brother whispered in his ear, voice so quiet it almost went unheard. ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡±


    Ark held him, cuddled up against him, hiding in their closet. For the last few minutes, ever since he had run into the room and found Melmarc on the floor and pulled him into the closet, he had been repeating those words.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think his brother noticed he¡¯d been bleeding all this time. From the little he¡¯d seen before the lights in the room went out, Ark hadn¡¯t been paying attention to much of anything.


    It¡¯s alright. It¡¯s alright, the words played in Melmarc¡¯s head.


    It was like programming, so much so that Melmarc almost believed everything was alright despite the pain in his side and the falling debris, shaken with every boom and quake outside. He would¡¯ve believed it was alright if his brother wasn¡¯t trembling and if he couldn¡¯t feel the wet tears sliding down his brother¡¯s cheeks.


    Where¡¯s mommy? He asked, only for the words to never leave his mind.


    He moved his lips at the realization and found them numb. His hands were numb too. He had never felt numb before. The sensation brought about a new kind of fear. But at least the trembling had stopped, and the pain was gone.


    Usually, his mom would be seated in front of the television, watching one of her favorite late night shows. It was what she did when she wasn¡¯t working, when the government allowed her the time to rest and be with her family. She would spend the entire day with them, playing and singing, and doing crazy things adults would only do with their children. Then, when it was night and time to sleep, she would tuck them in bed, and make them play pretend.


    It was the same game every night. She would read them a story or sing them a song, then she would make them play ¡®sleep pretend¡¯ to see who could pretend more. Their sister had her own room so she never got to play pretend, at least not with them. She was too old and too mature for it. Her words, not his.


    Like every other night that she tucked them in, they¡¯d played pretend until it was no longer a game and they were sound asleep. Then his mother would enjoy her movie until late into the night before going to bed.


    The house shook again, quaked enough to shake rubbles from the ceiling, and Melmarc shook more.


    Ark wrapped his arms tighter around him.


    Being just a year older, Melmarc¡¯s brother wasn¡¯t much larger than him, so his arms didn¡¯t really wrap around Melmarc. But they were there, gently smoothing down the side of his arms in strokes that were half-soothing and half-panicked. Despite the inconsistency, Melmarc missed the feel now that he was numb. The numbness had taken everything, and now the fear was left with nothing but a place in his mind.


    Another boom rang outside, the building shook terribly again and more debris fell in the room outside the closet. Ark jerked, startled by the explosion.


    A large gust of wind swept into the room. It shattered the door Ark had spent a second or two to close and bolt shut when he had run into the room, ripped into the wood and blew it apart.


    Melmarc would¡¯ve given a reaction too, if he wasn¡¯t so numb.


    He felt Ark look down at him, checking on him. His older brother wiped his tears from his cheek, sniffled quietly, then began slowly rocking Melmarc.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Mel,¡± he mumbled. ¡°Everything¡¯s going to be alright.¡±


    It was hard to believe him when his voice was trembling so much that it affected his words. Melmarc wanted to return the words back to his brother, wanted to reassure him that he was right, that everything was going to be alright. But he couldn¡¯t.


    He couldn¡¯t do anything.


    When the wall of his room exploded in a gale of wind and fire, it rocked the entire house and shattered his bed. It was followed by a high pitched scream. Even so young Melmarc could hear the emotions in it. Fear, pain, anger. He¡¯d never heard their mom sound like that before, and it sent a chill through his numb body.


    Ark clutched him tighter, rocked him slower.


    ¡°Mom¡¯s got this,¡± he told him in a small shaky voice. ¡°Mom¡¯s strong, she¡¯ll win.¡±


    Win what? Melmarc thought. He knew the kind of work their parents did. He also knew that they never brought it home. So what was she supposed to win?


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    Is there a bad guy in the house? How many are there?


    Like every other word he¡¯d thought up, these ones never left his lips. They were birthed in his mind, grew in his mind, and died in his mind.


    ¡°Mom¡¯s powerful,¡± Ark repeated, as if to himself. ¡°She¡¯ll win.¡±


    He was sobbing now. Quietly. Whatever was out there, whatever had shaken the house and shattered the windows of Melmarc¡¯s room, was strong enough to make Ark continue to convince himself that their mother was going to win.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure exactly how his mother¡¯s fight was going to end but he had a feeling he wouldn¡¯t get to see it. Melmarc was very happy that their sister had chosen tonight to have a sleep over at one of her friend¡¯s house. Even in his current state, he was happy that she would not have to feel the fear he was now too numb to feel.


    Ark¡¯s hand touched Melmarc¡¯s side in his rocking and soothing, and pain shot through the numbness to fill his body. Melmarc jerked from the pain.


    Ark looked down at him, and in the darkness of the closet¡ªof the entire house, really¡ªMelmarc saw worry fill his brother¡¯s widened eyes. He watched Ark lift his hand and stare at it. Melmarc didn¡¯t have to be able to see to know what his brother was looking at.


    ¡°You¡ªyou¡¯re bleeding,¡± his brother panicked. ¡°Mel, you¡¯re bleeding.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to say something, tell his brother that he was fine even if he wasn¡¯t. But no words came. There was only the new pain climbing up his side.


    And fear for his mother.


    Another explosion startled Ark. For some reason it felt very close. Too close. Melmarc turned his eyes back to the door of the closet, peeked through its many slits. There wasn¡¯t much to be seen in the dark room.


    Moonlight streamed in through a hole in the wall, a different one from the wall his bed frame had been pushed up against. It was the wall with the window that had shattered, the window that owned the piece of glass currently in his side.


    The moonlight cast the smallest illumination into the room. Inside the room, through the slits in the closet¡¯s door, he saw why the explosion had sounded so close.


    Two silhouettes had crashed into his room. He couldn¡¯t make out much of one of them but he knew his mother when he saw her, even clad in the darkness born of a backdrop of light from outside the house. She was trading blows with someone, using fighting techniques Melmarc had seen Delvers like her use plenty times on different shows. She threw kicks and punches, forced her assailant into the corners.


    Melmarc¡¯s numb mouth fell open. He felt the life of words rise from his throat.


    ¡°Mo¡ª¡±


    Ark¡¯s hand clamped down on his mouth. It was wet and warm, stained in Melmarc¡¯s blood. It silenced him effectively as their mother took a blow to the jaw.


    It rocked her back, and her assailant followed the attack up with another one. Fire enveloped his hand as he struck her jaw with a closed fist. The contact let out a muffled boom, as if two boulders had been thrown against each other.


    Melmarc watched the silhouette of their mother stagger back. The assailant darted forward, covered the distance between them and struck again.


    Their mother weaved away from the blow, caught the assailant''s arm, and threw him over her shoulder. He flew into the half-broken wall where Melmarc¡¯s bed had once been, destroying the little that was left of it.


    Their mother moved to go after the man but hesitated. She paused, head on a quick swivel. Her attention moved around the room quickly before stopping at the closet.


    Melmarc could see her relax visibly when she stared at the closet. Then she darted out of the room and through the wall she had thrown the enemy into. Another clash ensued outside in booms and explosions. A flash of bright light illuminated the other room and was followed by a scream. Someone shot through the wall and back into the room, crashing into another wall, but not going through it.


    The assailant stepped back into the room in a stagger. Their mother had weakened him.


    Please win, Melmarc prayed. Dear God, if mom wins I promise to always listen to what she says. I¡¯ll be nicer to my sister, Ninra. I¡¯ll always obey daddy and mommy. I¡¯ll never make noise¡­


    Tears streaked down his eyes.


    Only when Ark¡¯s hand tightened over his mouth did he realize he had been sobbing.


    Please, he begged. Please save mommy.


    The assailant stood in the room, unmoving. Then his head turned slowly. He took in the entire room. The debris. The broken bed. The shattered walls. The small children¡¯s reading table. The action figure of a man in a cloak sculpted to look as if it was blowing in the wind. It was a sculpted action figure of Dark-mist. He was a famous Delver known for his stealth, and Ark¡¯s favorite.


    Finally, the assailant turned to their mother.


    ¡°You have kids?¡± he asked. He sounded surprised, startled. ¡°So that¡¯s why you¡¯ve been keeping me away from this room. I thought there was, like, loot or good gear here. Maybe a healing¡ª¡±


    Their mother shot away from the ground and tackled the man. She ran into him with a purpose and enough force to pull a wall down.


    The man took her attack head on. He slid back a few inches before stopping. Then he raised both hands above his head and a ring of light encircled the both of them before he brought them down on their mother¡¯s back.


    It struck her, leaving a shock wave and a boom that brought her down to the ground. He kicked her for good measure and she slid to the side of the room. The man turned and coughed into his hand. He looked at it for a short moment before wiping it on his chest.


    ¡°In case you¡¯re worried,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m not here for the kids. I didn¡¯t even know you had kids.¡±


    On the ground, surrounded by dust and debris, Melmarc¡¯s mother spat to the side.


    The man scratched his head in mild frustration.


    ¡°The quest only said to take you out,¡± he explained. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to draw your aggro while the others do whatever they¡¯re supposed to do.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t win,¡± their mother spat. ¡°You and your kind can¡¯t win.¡±


    The assailant shook his head. ¡°We aren¡¯t here to win. We¡¯re simply doing this to survive.¡±


    ¡°Survive, my ass.¡±


    Their mother pushed herself up.


    ¡°Stay down,¡± the man said. ¡°We¡¯re trying to clear the quest without having to kill anybody we don¡¯t have to. Mine said I had to defeat you, not kill you.¡±


    Their mother got all the way up to her feet. She placed herself in a fighter¡¯s stance, but she didn¡¯t look steady. Melmarc could see her feet shaking beneath her.


    ¡°Your quest will get too many people killed. You have to be stopped.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have enough mana for this,¡± the man muttered. He sounded annoyed. ¡°And neither do you.¡±


    He placed his hands together, and a ring of light appeared around him. It was similar to the one that had encircled his hands when he¡¯d struck her down, white and bright with a soft glow. Like a halo. He stood at the center of it and their mother stood where she was, a fighter. She wouldn¡¯t succumb, she wouldn¡¯t lose. Melmarc knew this as surely as he knew he was bleeding.


    He only had one prayer now.


    Don¡¯t lose, mommy.


    The man¡¯s ring of light grew brighter, whiter, until it was almost blinding to look at.


    ¡°Stay down,¡± the man warned their mother. ¡°Last chance. You might not have a health bar but I¡¯ve done this enough to know when your HP is low.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s mother gave him a toothy grin. ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    The man sighed. ¡°So be it.¡±


    The ring exploded in a blinding light that left Melmarc¡¯s world white. It was all he could see. In the back of his mind only one sentence filled his world. The last sound he heard wasn¡¯t the explosion but his brother¡¯s voice.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright, Mel. It¡¯s going to be alright.¡±

 TWO: Rings of Saturn

    Norman sat in the darkness of the room. He sat on a slab of concrete that could¡¯ve easily been a fallen part of the roof or a blown up part of a wall. Before the fight had begun, he¡¯d isolated this entire part of the building with [Secrecy] to prevent troubles. The skill had a single design, it isolated him and a chosen target from the rest of the world. It eliminated sound and other sensory effects.


    He let out a sigh as he looked down at the quest line.


    [Quest Failed]


    [You have failed to defeat the Final Boss. The Final Boss has escaped]


    [Would you like to read more?]


    Yes/No


    He didn¡¯t need to read the details of the failure.


    No.


    He had held up his part of the quest and that was that. Defeating the Oath of war had been difficult. If the Oath of madness had been present, he doubted there was any member of the team that could¡¯ve helped him defeat the both of them. His real issue, however, was with his intel. They¡¯d taken an entire day to set this whole thing up. Through it all, there had been people on recon duty, people who had made it their duty to predict the location of every Oath in town with the capability of stopping them from killing the mayor.


    There was no way any of them was going to say they didn¡¯t know the Oath of war had kids. Which meant they had kept that little tidbit from him.


    And he knew exactly how he felt about it. He didn¡¯t like it. He didn¡¯t like it at all.


    Ella, do you copy? He thought. Hopefully the telepath of the team still had a telepathic link open.


    Norman waited for a time that seemed to stretch on forever and got no answer. While he waited, he checked himself, took stock of his injuries. He had only one rib that wasn¡¯t broken. He was missing a few teeth¡ªnothing a healer couldn¡¯t fix¡ªand had more torn muscles than anybody was supposed to be able to survive.


    The Oath of war had done a number on him, and the only reason he was still kicking was because he had technically cheated. During the fight he had taken a degenerative pill designed to temporarily suppress his pain senses. It was the only reason he had been able to keep going. The doctor said it was a bad idea to rely on pills like that, but he¡¯d had no choice. He¡¯d almost lost even when using it and unhindered by pain, so imagine if he hadn¡¯t.


    He stared at the open hole in the side of the room. It placed the streets outside into view. It was peaceful, quiet. The streets were illuminated by the moonlight glow of street lights placed equidistant from each other. It was a sharp contrast to the dark chaos of the room he was in.


    Norm, do you copy?


    The words twitched in his mind like a phantom limb. He winced at their presence. He always hated telepathy. It felt invasive. Wrong. Using it was like doing drugs but without the ecstatic effect.


    Copy. I got the quest update, he thought back. What happened?


    Wally failed to eliminate the mayor.


    Norman frowned. Weren¡¯t there like eight of you?


    Six, Ella replied. Connor and Liz had to be dispatched to take out Dark-Mist.


    Wasn¡¯t Dark-Mist all the way on the other side, like two towns out? How did he know we were here? And how did he get here so fast? Who was in charge of recon? Never mind. Where are you guys? I¡¯ll come to you.


    Negative, Ella replied, thoughts ever calm. We¡¯re already on our way to you.


    Norman stood up and winced at a sharp pain in his side. The Oath of war had given him quite the beating. Looking down at her body lying on the floor, he couldn¡¯t help but respect her. He was a level 146 Delver hopped up on pain depressants and she¡¯d still given him a run for his money. And even now she wasn¡¯t dead. After taking his strongest skill eight times throughout the entire fight, she was still alive.


    He could probably count on his fingers the number of people alive that could take a direct hit from the skill three times and still be standing.


    ¡°I guess she¡¯s not a mini Boss for nothing,¡± he muttered to himself.


    The right thing to do now was to kill her, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it. He was a soldier, not a monster. Instead, he moved over to a particularly large chunk of the wall that had been blown out in their battle and dragged it over. Before he¡¯d unlocked his first skill, it would¡¯ve been impossible to do what he was doing. The wall was twice the size of a normal person and weighed so much that a crane would be needed to move it. But here he was, dragging it over with one hand.


    Perks of being a hunter, he thought.


    What¡¯s that, Norm? Ella asked.


    Not for you, he told her. Isolate contact. Limit telepathic link to only intentional thoughts. I¡¯ve told you this before, El. I don¡¯t like it when you hear what you shouldn¡¯t.


    Then control your thoughts, she returned. We¡¯re on our way to you, just sit tight. ETA is three minutes.


    Norman felt her touch slip from his mind. It left him with the familiar sense of loneliness it always did.


    Three minutes, he thought to himself. More than enough time.


    He dragged the boulder over the Oath of war and let it down gently. He had exchanged enough blows with her to know how sturdy she was. A boulder of this much weight would not crush her.


    He heard a gasp in the corner and paused. Thoughts flickered through his mind. What should he do? What could he do? He had perhaps two minutes left.


    There was nothing he could do in two minutes.


    ¡°Stay still, and stay quiet,¡± he said loud enough to be heard. ¡°You do not want to be noticed when they get here. If they find you, I can¡¯t help you.¡±


    Another pain shot up his side and gripped his heart. He winced again, every part of him begging him to just lie down. He could feel every crack in his broken ribs, every cut and tear, every torn muscle. He could feel his mana fatigue.


    He needed a seat. But not yet.


    He looked at the boulder he had placed over the Oath of war and knew luck had played a part in his victory. He had used every potion he had in this fight. Stamina. Health. Mana. And he had used multiple, to the point that his inventory was empty.


    But unlike most Oaths, the Oath of war had used none. Norman had come into this fight knowing it was a suicide mission but had come out alive.


    He should kill her. It was what any soldier would do, what any hunter would do. But he couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it. Not in her children¡¯s room. Not in front of her children.


    He staggered back, fought his growing pain as the effects of his pain depressants lost their hold on him. He leaned against what was left of the door frame, kept himself from falling.


    There he waited for the others.


    When they came, it was through one of the holes in the wall. They strolled into the building, and he counted only three of them.


    ¡°God, Norm, you¡¯re a mess,¡± Ella said. She was a small woman with her hair held up in a bun. At least that was how she kept it whenever they went on missions. However, it was a mess right now. Worn down poorly and stained in blood.


    Norman¡¯s only response was a nod.


    The other two with Ella were the team¡¯s medic, Kwaku, and the team leader, Omar. Kwaku was skinny and tall. Lanky. He fought for shit and relied on one of his passive skills that gave him high vitality and health regen boost. It didn¡¯t make him a tank, but it did make him extremely difficult to kill. They said he¡¯d been a doctor before he¡¯d gained his powers and had somehow developed only healing skills over time as he leveled up.


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    His kind was rare.


    It was almost impossible to find a hunter with only healing skills. Most hunters had at least one skill designed for killing. Kwaku had none. He was, technically, a pacifist. He only used violence when it was unavoidable. Even then, his skills in violence were only what the military had taught him. And he had learned those skills poorly.


    It¡¯s a good thing he¡¯s here, Norman thought. If anyone found out about the kids in the closet, he could count on Kwaku to take his side in leaving them be.


    He wasn¡¯t saying the others were monsters, but they were soldiers first, then hunters, before they were human. If they felt in any way that the continued existence of the children was somehow a present, potential, or future threat, he wouldn¡¯t put it beyond them to take lethal action.


    Omar was a soldier all the way. He was almost mechanical about it. Orders were the principles by which he lived. Any orders given to him were carried out to the letter. The soldier was more inclined to die first than not carry out his entire mission. He was a bald man with piercing grey eyes that always seemed to look into a person¡¯s soul and see nothing. And Ella followed him everywhere.


    He was more beat up than Ella in torn clothes, and sported multiple injuries, one of which was still bleeding. They looked almost as terrible as Norman¡¯s.


    Norman looked between Omar and Kwaku, wondering why their medic hadn¡¯t cast any healing spells on him.


    ¡°Out of mana?¡± he asked.


    Kwaku looked away in embarrassment. It was confirmation enough.


    ¡°It was a tough fight,¡± Ella explained. ¡°We lost Todd. No amount of healing could help him. Kwaku practically ran through all his skills trying to keep him al¡ª¡±


    Her head snapped to the side.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± she asked.


    A touch of worry ran down Norman¡¯s spine. ¡°What the hell was what?¡±


    ¡°That,¡± she scowled. ¡°I can sense an active mind. ¡°Are you sure the fight is over?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bold question.¡± Norman stood straighter, fought the pained grimace that threatened to usurp his expression. ¡°I won. It¡¯s definitely over.¡±


    Omar was looking around now, alert. Norman didn¡¯t like it. He needed their attention on him.


    ¡°Were you notified of your victory?¡± Omar asked him.


    The answer to that was simple: No.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Norman lied. ¡°Enemy has fallen. You have defeated the Oath of War.¡±


    Omar nodded slowly. When his attention returned to Norman and stayed, it was all Norman could do not to let out a sigh of relief.


    His father had always told him that he wasn¡¯t cut out for the military. The life of a soldier was a tough life, and sometimes, for the greater good, they had to do some bad. His father always said that was the hard part for Norman; the bad.


    Norman liked to think of himself as a hero for justice and that was likely to get him killed.


    But today¡¯s not that day.


    Ella was still suspicious, skeptical. She was still looking, searching. Her eyes settled on something and Norman fought himself not to look.


    ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡± she asked.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Kwaku asked. Of all of them, he was the only one who didn¡¯t move like he¡¯d gone through a grinder. His clothes were a mess but he stood and moved fine.


    Ella¡¯s eyes squinted. ¡°It looks like a child¡¯s drawing book.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Kwaku said, voice sad. He looked at Norman. ¡°W¡ªwere there¡­¡±


    The medic¡¯s voice trailed off, unable to complete the question. It was one of the reasons Norman liked him. If not for the world they were in, Kwaku would¡¯ve been a good guy, through and true.


    Ella, however, didn¡¯t have Kwaku¡¯s mentality.


    ¡°Were there children here?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Negative,¡± Norman answered. ¡°However, the Oath of war did fight like she was in a hurry. Perhaps her children are on their way.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± Ella swore.


    It surprised Norman. She was usually cold and detached about details of a mission. His surprise must have shown on his face because she turned on him with a scowl.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked, with a touch of bitterness.


    Norman looked away. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a monster.¡± She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, grimacing from the action. ¡°I can understand being attacked by an enemy and not wanting my kids to be there. I can picture Jane coming home to find me dead while some portal fucker stands over my body. I wouldn¡¯t wish that on any mother.¡±


    Omar made a thoughtful sound, and it drew their attention.


    ¡°There¡¯s no place in our report that shows Oaths can have children,¡± he said.


    ¡°What can we say we truly know about this world apart from what the quests tell us,¡± Kwaku said with a touch of guilt. ¡°For all we know we could just be invaders to them, coming into their world and taking from them.¡±


    ¡°Save it for therapy, Kwaku.¡± Ella patted him on the shoulder, then she turned to Norman. ¡°Where¡¯s the body?¡±


    Norman thought fast. Enemies always left behind bodies, it was how they confirmed their kills. Despite how the quests and skills often made it look, this wasn¡¯t some game where they were spared the gores of battle and the defeated evaporated into smoke or some other variable of disappearance.


    Body, he panicked. What do I say? How do I¡­


    Omar frowned. ¡°Do Oaths disappear when they die?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Not that I know of?¡± Kwaku said. ¡°Dark-Mist didn¡¯t disappear when Seven killed him.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s different for each Oath. We¡¯ve only killed one before,¡± Ella said.


    ¡°With the Oath of war and darkness, that makes it three,¡± Omar pointed out.


    ¡°Yea. And I remember the Oath of light exploded when we killed her,¡± Ella added.


    Allowing this line of reasoning go on was good for his short-term goals. Norman didn¡¯t want to kill the children and didn¡¯t want them to watch their mother die. But this would be bad in the long-term, it would leave the team with wrong theories, theories that would guide their actions and decisions, and could prove fatal in the long run.


    Norman shook his head. ¡°I think what happened with the Oath of light was an isolated incident. I think she might¡¯ve used a skill to blow herself up, take us with her.¡±


    ¡°Then how do you explain the absence of a body?¡± Ella asked. ¡°Did you kill her somewhere else?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then?¡±


    ¡°I hit her with [Rings of Saturn].¡±


    Kwaku winced.


    Norman could remember the first time the medic had seen him use the skill. [Rings of Saturn] was designed to annihilate a target. It flashed with a light bright enough to create enough heat to melt bones. When it exploded in the direction of his choice, it could decimate an entire building.


    Kwaku had thrown up his lunch the first time he had seen its effect.


    Omar nodded, pleased with Norman¡¯s answer. But Ella wasn¡¯t buying it.


    ¡°She was an Oath,¡± she said. ¡°It would take more than that to do the kind of damage that leaves no body.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d argue that the Oath of shields is the only one that can withstand eight blasts from [Rings of Saturn],¡± Norman said easily. Ella opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off with more words. ¡°I¡¯m bleeding HP just standing here, and I have no plans to die after accomplishing my end of the mission. I¡¯m out of mana, and the only thing keeping me on my feet is sheer will.¡± He turned to Omar. ¡°Is the portal still open?¡±


    Norman could see the red caution sign blinking at the top left of his vision.


    HP: 00008/78,000.


    MP: 00006/98,000.


    Omar nodded.


    ¡°For now,¡± he answered. ¡°I¡¯ve gotten confirmation from Terry that it¡¯s still up, but it won¡¯t be open for much longer. The timer has already begun.¡±


    A notification popped up at the top right corner of his periphery, and Norman checked it. True to Omar¡¯s words, the timer had already started.


    Portal Deactivation [00:12:58].


    No one wanted to be left stranded inside a portal. There were instances were portals closed behind hunters once they entered. Those were called special portals. In cases like those, the quests were usually extremely complicated, and the portal only opened when the quest was finished.


    There was only one way to close a portal, and that was by finishing the quest, either by passing it or failing it. For whatever reason, the portal considered success or failure a status of completion. On some occasions, death was the only failure. Luckily for them, this was not such an occasion.


    They¡¯re luck on this quest had been its simplicity. They were to kill the Mayor of the city they were in. The only registered threats to the mission had been the Oath of war and the Oath of inevitability. The Oath of darkness also stayed in this town, but recon had claimed he was out of town at the moment.


    Only for him to show up, Norman thought bitterly. At least he¡¯s dead.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Omar said finally. ¡°We¡¯re killing time. Time we do not have. That portal isn¡¯t going to stay open forever.¡±


    They left the house in quiet strides. When they were out in the open, there was already a growing chaos, even if it was a silent one. Norman looked around as they walked, illuminated under the light of the moon in the sky and the street lamps on the road.


    He found people staring from the windows of their homes, eyes filled with fear.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t use [Secrecy]?¡± Ella asked, unconcerned by the watchful eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m not the reason for all the attention,¡± he replied. ¡°I¡¯d bet it was your fight with the mayor. Anyway,¡± he added, turning to Kwaku. ¡°What will you do when we get back home?¡±


    ¡°You can crash at my place,¡± Ella offered the medic. ¡°Jane will be happy to spend some time with you. She¡¯s always happy to spend time around a doctor.¡±


    Kwaku smiled fondly but shook his head. ¡°Hard pass,¡± he said. ¡°Jane has too many questions, and I don¡¯t think I¡¯m in the right frame of mind to answer so many.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m just going to fly back home. We¡¯d just sent a few Delvers into a portal before this one opened. I¡¯m kinda worried.¡±


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± Omar said. ¡°I remember when I flew out to China to help with their portal while Norman tackled the poison swamp portal. I was out of my mind with worry.¡±


    They were out of the residential area, free from watchful eyes and strolling up to what was left of their team now. They hadn¡¯t been worried of being attacked. Any real threat to them was already isolated, defeated or too beaten to come after them. The normal people they found within portals never went near them, never attacked. They were also only rarely seen.


    Norman had gone through more than his fair share of portals since becoming a Delver, and this was only one of two times he¡¯d ever gone into a portal chuck full of civilization of this level.


    ¡°What exactly happened with the mayor that made you guys fail the quest?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Coward sealed himself inside an impenetrable bunker,¡± Ella spat.


    ¡°You can¡¯t really call him a coward,¡± Kwaku countered. ¡°What was he going to do against four Hunters of over level 100. That he even lasted against us for as long as he did was commendable enough.¡±


    Ella looked at him as if she was looking at a sweet and na?ve child and shook her head. She gave him a soft pat on the back.


    ¡°Ghana¡¯s really lucky to have a sweet-heart like you, you know that,¡± she said.


    ¡°I think being a Ghanaian makes me the lucky one,¡± he said. With nostalgia in his eyes, he added: ¡°I can¡¯t wait to get back home.¡±


    ¡°Me, too,¡± Norman said. ¡°Me, too.¡±


    Everyone gathered themselves up before stepping through the portal. Entering was easy but returning was often known to be disorienting. It wasn¡¯t life threatening, but Delvers didn¡¯t like the idea of embarrassing themselves on their return. Besides, everyone was thinking the same thing.


    While Kwaku was heading back to his country, Britain had to prepare for the consequences of failing the quest. They had to prepare for a Chaos Run. If they prepared properly, then there would be no civilian casualty. And that was only if they prepared well enough.


    As Norman stepped into the disorienting blue void of the portal back home, he knew the next six hours were going to be a long one. As a participant of the quest, he had the option of opting out of a Chaos Run, but he knew he wouldn¡¯t. Not if he was in good shape when the time came.


    The portal swallowed him whole and sent him back home where he would prepare for a new battle.

 THREE: Player

    Three weeks later¡­


    Melmarc walked down the hospital hallway, watching patients move about some of them assisted by one nurse or the other. Unlike most hospitals, this one wasn¡¯t chaotic. It was organized, and high end. The city had put a lot of money into building it.


    Melmarc held onto his drip stand, rolling it forward as he walked. The constant sound of patients talking filled the hallway as one nurse or the other gave them one assurance or the other. Some of the patients were amiable to their words and some were not, but the nurses were always kind always smiling. Melmarc had been in the hospital long enough to spot the fake smiles now, the smiles that were plastered on because the nurses were meant to be kind to their patients.


    He continued his stroll down the hallway, his drip stand following alongside on its rollers. The doctors said he needed time out of bed, time to move about so that his muscles didn¡¯t weaken. So he did. Once every day, at the time of his brother¡¯s choosing, under the supervision of his sister.


    Today was different, though. For one, he usually walked around noon, closer to the evening when Ark was back from school and still had that after school energy rushing through him. Each time, some of it would rub off on Melmarc and motivate him to have the walks.


    He would walk in silence while Ark would entertain him with stories of the world outside the hospital. Ark would tell him about the classes he was having. Who was bullying who. What new teacher had joined the school. Which teacher was his favorite. Mundane things like that. But he would tell it with so much zest and joy that it would seem so much more than mundane.


    Through it all, Melmarc would walk in silence with the occasional smile, the once in a while chuckle, and the often misplaced frown. And Ark would just keep on telling, asking only the most important questions.


    It was like clockwork with Ark. Every weekday he¡¯d barge into Melmarc¡¯s room with a wide smile, mischievous eyes, and all the energy in the world. Their sister, Ninra, would be right behind him, chewing gum and tapping away at her phone.


    Ark would ask if he was ready, and Melmarc will always fail to say no. His brother¡¯s energy was always contagious.


    Ark would hurry over to his bed and ask the simpler questions.


    ¡°Does it hurt today?¡±


    ¡°How bad is it, on a scale of shut up to get the hell out?¡±


    Ninra would always scold him for using adult words but it never changed anything. It was routine now, for the past three weeks. Did it hurt? How bad was it? Did you miss me? He would always ask the last part with a cocky grin that made his face look more like a cartoon villain than a smug child.


    Melmarc always thought the look was intentional, practiced to perfection because every day it just kept getting more cartoonish, until his brother was the perfect grinning cartoon villain.


    Every day Melmarc would answer honestly. It always hurt on the scale of bite your teeth. The first time he had said it, he¡¯d said it while laughing. Laughter made his injury hurt back when it hadn¡¯t healed, and he needed his brother to stop making him laugh. Shut up would get him a scolding from Ninra even if he was hospitalized, so he settled for the next best thing.


    Somehow, bite your teeth had evolved to mean the pain was acceptable. And Ark would accept it with a grin. Then Ninra would help Melmarc out of his bed and his brother would take him on a walk.


    ¡°Thirty minutes and no more!¡± Ninra would bellow after them as Ark led him out of the room. ¡°And no running!¡±


    The first order was most often ignored. The second was always obeyed.


    Ninra never followed them, and Melmarc always understood. At thirteen, she didn¡¯t have much in common with them. Ark was seven and Melmarc was six.


    She¡¯d gone on the walk with them once and Melmarc had seen how miserable it had been for her. Ark did all the talking, as was his way, and she just moped around, saying hi to the nurses and some of the patients.


    Melmarc knew the reason she had followed them and had been sure to let her know she didn¡¯t have to follow them all the time. The simple fact that she was present at all, was good enough for him. They were not the closest of siblings but he didn¡¯t like seeing her miserable.


    Ark said she blamed herself for what happened to him. Apparently, she believed that if she had been home at the time, things would¡¯ve been different. Not the outcome of what happened to their mother, just the outcome of Melmarc being injured.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t understand why she thought so, but he didn¡¯t have the words to best explain to her nicely that her presence would¡¯ve made no difference, so he did the little he could. He smiled and waved at her every day before leaving his hospital room with his brother.


    He hoped that would be enough to stop her from blaming herself.


    It was a Friday night which meant Ark got to spend the night at the hospital. Currently he was balled up on one of the couches one of the nurses had been happy to have moved to his room for that very purpose, sleeping peacefully in his pajamas of Dark-Mist, his favorite Delver.


    They¡¯d gone on their long afternoon walk. Now Melmarc was out on a midnight walk.


    As for their father, he didn¡¯t come every day, but he came whenever he could, which was always towards the darker hours of the day.


    As an Oath, he had a duty to the world. Melmarc understood this, but it didn¡¯t mean he liked it. He consoled himself with the fact that he visited their mom as much as he could. The last time he¡¯d asked Ark, he¡¯d said their mother was in a coma, three weeks and counting. The doctors said they couldn¡¯t tell when she would wake up.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Today was one of the many days when his father didn¡¯t come. Usually, Ninra would be sleeping in his room with Ark but she had a school project or something like that so she wasn¡¯t around.


    Melmarc¡¯s nightly stroll was simple. He was alone in it but not lonely.


    A television was turned on in the hallway but its volume was reduced to a level so low that Melmarc couldn¡¯t hear it. The mayor was on, saying one thing or the other that he did not know. It was likely a re-run because the mayor addressed nobody at night. Melmarc was of the opinion that the mayor¡ªlike everyone else¡ªslept at night.


    The end of Melmarc¡¯s stroll brought him back to his room. His eyes were heavy with sleep and he was ready to turn in for the night. But the night seemed to have other plans for him.


    At the door, he found his father standing there, waiting for him with no expression on his face.


    He wasn¡¯t a stern father, not really. He was just one of those fathers that lacked expressions. His love was mostly shown in his actions and his words. Ark said it was the side effect of being the Oath of madness.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t really understand it, but he accepted it. He doubted his brother understood it either.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    Melmarc watched his father gently cover his brother with a blanket. Their father moved slowly, purposefully. It was how he was. Every action was always intentional, calculated perhaps.


    He watched his father smile slightly as he tucked Ark in, tucking the edges of the blanket under him until he was wrapped like a mummy from shoulder to feet just the way his brother liked it. Throughout the entire process, Ark turned mildly and mumbled sleepy nonsense.


    Despite the incomprehensive nature of his sleep influenced words, their father nodded and made sounds in response until he was done and Ark was back to silent sleep.


    When he was done, he turned to Melmarc.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get you in bed,¡± he said in a deep and hoarse voice.


    He picked Melmarc up from under the arms, easily and gently, and placed him in bed. He covered him with the blanket that came with the hospital bed. He left Melmarc¡¯s left foot uncovered on the side of the arm with the drip, leaving enough enough space for Melmarc to slip out without hindrance but cover him well enough to keep out the cold.


    Once upon a time Melmarc had been a fan of being wrapped like a mummy like his brother, but that had been once upon a time. Some things were different now.


    His father looked at his exposed foot hanging outside the blanket and his face twitched in something Melmarc couldn¡¯t place. He assumed that was his father¡¯s version of a frown. Then his father looked up at the drip, brows furrowed.


    ¡°The nurses say my injury is fine,¡± Melmarc told his father, breaking the silence.


    His father nodded, slow as most of his actions often are.


    ¡°She said the drip is helping my body expel most of the external mana from me,¡± Melmarc added.


    His father studied the drip a little longer before turning to Melmarc.


    ¡°Is that why a healer couldn¡¯t treat you with magic?¡± he asked.


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°They said it kept getting in the way. I have to remove it myself, but it will take time.¡± He paused, thinking of how best to explain it so his father would understand. ¡°It¡¯s like going for a number two.¡±


    His father looked down, his lips twitching in a whisper of a smile.


    ¡°Like pooping,¡± he said, almost to himself, then chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s a good analogy.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember a time when his father had ever chuckled. He¡¯d seen him smile a few times, like when he was tucking Ark in, but never a chuckle.


    ¡°So the drip helps you do a number 2 better?¡± he asked.


    Melmarc nodded, motivated by his father¡¯s chuckle.


    ¡°The nurses say the faster it comes out the sooner I can go back home, and back to my¡­¡± his words trailed off. Memories came knocking and he remembered the state of his room the last time he¡¯d seen it.


    More importantly, did he even want to go back?


    His father waited patiently while he collected his thoughts. He didn¡¯t fill the silence with words or sounds or anything. He just sat on the side of the bed and waited. Melmarc had learned that unlike most people, his parents were very comfortable in silence. They wore it comfortably the way people wore clothes.


    Melmarc moved on the bed, pushed himself until he sat up. His father leaned forward as he did and adjusted his pillow so that it cushioned his back.


    Melmarc fidgeted with his fingers. He had a question but wasn¡¯t sure how to go about it. His hesitation was clear because his father spoke.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± he said. It was the way he motivated them whenever they had something to say but weren¡¯t sure they should, or worried that they wouldn¡¯t like the response they would get.


    Melmarc took a deep steadying breath before he spoke.


    ¡°How is mom?¡±


    His father looked to the side, stared at the curtain that hid a window with a view of the city. It kept out the night lights of the tall buildings and corporations that never went to sleep. It kept out the lights of the night life. What should¡¯ve been a glass wall window with a view of the world beyond was nothing but a mundane brown curtain.


    His father looked back at him.


    ¡°She¡¯s doing alright,¡± he said finally. ¡°The doctors say she¡¯s healed completely.¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s still asleep,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Have they found out when she¡¯ll wake up? Ark said she¡¯s in something called a coma. That she¡¯ll wake up when she''s done. Is she dreaming about the person that broke in?¡± He looked down at his fidgeting hand. ¡°I don¡¯t want her to dream about that.¡± Tears welled in his eyes and he couldn¡¯t keep them from falling. He looked back up, met his father¡¯s eyes. ¡°I know it¡¯s not good because you and mom always said not to mess with people¡¯s heads, but can they make it so that she dreams about us, instead? Ark said it¡¯s better if she does.¡±


    Their father turned to look at Ark. Melmarc¡¯s brother was sleeping peacefully.


    ¡°Ark said that, did he?¡± their father said.


    Melmarc nodded, even if his father wasn¡¯t looking at him. His eyes were filled with tears and he was sobbing now. Melmarc didn¡¯t like crying. He knew children that liked crying because they cried for any reason, but he didn¡¯t like it. He didn¡¯t like how he looked when he cried.


    After a while, his father turned back to him. His eyes turned down to Melmarc¡¯s torso. ¡°How is it?¡± he asked.


    Melmarc looked down at his shirt, wiping the tears from his eyes with a single hand.


    How was it?


    ¡°I don¡¯t feel it unless I laugh really hard,¡± he answered, sniffling. Then a thought came to him. ¡°Wanna see it? It¡¯s almost gone, but you can still see it. The doctors said once the outside mana is gone, they¡¯ll bring in a healer to remove it completely.¡±


    His father smiled at that. ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if his father meant he¡¯d like to see the injury or if he¡¯d like it to be removed by a healer. Regardless, he raised he shirt up for his father to see.


    Just there, beside his navel, was a scar as long as his longest finger.


    ¡°The doctor said it¡¯s healing well,¡± he said with a smile.


    His father nodded. ¡°It is,¡± he agreed.


    ¡°I also asked him about the outside mana and why they won¡¯t let a healer remove it,¡± Melmarc went on. ¡°Jerry, a boy in my class, got a magic injury last year when he traveled with his family, and the healers removed it.¡±


    His father¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. Melmarc and his brother knew what that meant. It was one of the few expressions their father had, one of the few they knew. It was the one he carried when he was considering if something should be said.


    Melmarc gave his father his biggest smile and said, ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    His father paused, smiled slightly, then nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s because yours is a different kind of mana,¡± he said.


    ¡°My teacher in school said that there¡¯s only one type of mana.¡±


    ¡°There is, but you were hit by mana from beyond a portal. It works differently from normal mana. It¡¯s why they can¡¯t remove it easily.¡±


    Melmarc was surprised. It was rare to have people from beyond the portal show up in cities. Usually they showed up in uninhabited parts of the world. They were like ghost stories; they happened in places normal people didn¡¯t go.


    ¡°What type of¡­¡± Melmarc paused, trying to remember the name for people that came from beyond the portal.


    ¡°Intruder,¡± his father supplied, and Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°What type of Intruder was he?¡±


    His father stared at the curtain again, an odd look in his eyes. ¡°He was a Player.¡±

 FOUR: Classes

    Melmarc had heard the word before. Player. But it was a scarce word. If his memories were serving him well, he¡¯d only heard it once before. Most of the things that came out of portals were just called intruders. It made it easier to remember. He knew there were different kinds of Intruders but couldn¡¯t say he¡¯d ever thought much on it.


    At six all he knew was that they were the bad guys that always came to their world to do bad things. He didn¡¯t really care much for the distinction; they were all Intruders to him. But he wanted to know the person that had tried to kill his mom.


    ¡°What¡¯s a Player?¡± he asked.


    Tonight his father was showing too many emotions. He had smiled at least three times, had frowned¡ªat least what went as a frown for him¡ªand had hesitated. This was the most emotional, he had ever seen his dad.


    Now, his dad showed hesitance again. Uncertainty.


    His father didn¡¯t speak for a while, and Melmarc thought he had pushed too far. But he wanted to know, and there was no other way to know than to ask. Adults got to ask questions all the time, so why not kids.


    ¡°Dad?¡± he pressed.


    His father¡¯s jaw tightened slightly. It could¡¯ve been anything, but Melmarc interpreted it as a sign of contemplation.


    So he waited, and hoped, and waited. Time seemed to stretch, testing the limits of his patience, pulling it like an elastic band. Melmarc held on to hope.


    And hope did not fail him.


    ¡°A Player is a special type of Intruder,¡± his father said slowly, picking his words like a chef picks their beans. ¡°They are¡­ humans.¡±


    That surprised Melmarc.


    ¡°There are humans beyond the portals?¡± he asked, unable to stop himself.


    Again, his father frowned.


    ¡°They are like humans,¡± he corrected. ¡°A humanoid species from a world beyond the portal. Some people theorize¡ªsay¡ªthat they are us, but not us.¡±


    ¡°And they came for mom? Why? Is it because she¡¯s a Delver¡­ like you?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But they didn¡¯t come for your mother. She just happened to be around when they came. The Player that attacked your mother has been here before. Unlike most Intruders, they are calculated.¡± He paused. ¡°Do you know what calculated means, Mel?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°It means to choose what you do wisely.¡±


    ¡°I guess you can put it that way.¡± His father nodded before continuing. ¡°Players are calculated, and because they are calculated, it makes them one of the harder Intruders to fight. It makes them unpredictable sometimes. And since they are very much like us, it means they know us too well.¡±


    The lights above their heads that illuminated the room flickered mildly, making his father stop. He raised one finger to Melmarc.


    ¡°Just a moment,¡± he said. Then he got up from the side of the bed, walked up to the door, and opened it.


    He put his head outside, looked from one side to the other.


    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± he asked someone Melmarc could not see.


    Whatever response the person gave was only loud enough for his father alone to hear. It didn¡¯t surprise Melmarc. His parents were Gifted, but they weren¡¯t just Gifted, they were Delvers, people chosen by the world, given powers that placed them well above other humans. Their job was to go into portals and do portal things. And when portals ran out of control, their jobs became to fight the Intruders that came out of portals.


    Which begged the question: How had the Players gotten all the way to civilization without being stopped?


    After a brief exchange of words in a conversation Melmarc couldn¡¯t hear, his father stepped back into the room and closed the door behind him.


    He turned to find Melmarc waiting expectantly.


    ¡°This is a high-end medical facility,¡± he explained. ¡°And they just brought a Delver in.¡±


    Amongst the things his father stood out from other people for, using descriptions instead of nouns was another one of his habits. Instead of school, he said educational institute. Instead of hospital, he said medical facility.


    Instead of cry, he said shed tears.


    Their mom said it helped him remember what was where. If that made any sense.


    ¡°Is he going to be alright?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Are they going to be alright,¡± his father corrected simply. ¡°When you don¡¯t know the gender of a person being spoken of, the pronoun ¡®they¡¯ is the correct choice.¡±


    Melmarc nodded and corrected himself. ¡°Are they going to be alright?¡±


    His father retook his position on the side of Melmarc¡¯s bed, and it dipped under his weight. His classmates said that Delvers weighed far more than normal adults, but he always found it hard to believe. If they weighed as much as his friends said, then they wouldn¡¯t be able to use normal chairs or lay in normal beds. They would break them.


    When his father was comfortably positioned, only then did their conversation continue.


    ¡°I did not get to see the Delver,¡± his father explained. ¡°But I¡¯ll check in the morning. Hopefully they¡¯re fine. They just came from a Chaos run, so it¡¯s anyone¡¯s guess. They just hooked the Delver up to some of the equipment and it caused a surge¡­ made the lights go out. I¡¯m guessing the person¡¯s an electric type.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    He had more questions, but he didn¡¯t want to deviate from what was more important. His mom always said it was important to handle what was first first, before moving on to the next thing.


    ¡°What happened to the player that attacked mom?¡± he asked, hoping the short distraction had not caused his father to lose interest in the subject.


    His father closed his eyes. It wasn¡¯t tight, but there was something wrong about it. It was¡­ too closed, if that was a thing.


    Melmarc had never seen the expression before, and he wished Ark was awake to see it, too.


    They had made a game of sorts out of their father¡¯s expressions. Guessing, predicting, anticipating them every time. Over the years, the game had taught them to spot only one, the face their father made when he was contemplating on a subject that had to do with conversations, mainly how best to say something.


    But this was not it.


    Melmarc could only imagine how many ideas Ark would come up with if he saw this one. Was he angry? Was he tired? Did he finally want to take a poop? Melmarc almost chuckled. That last one was always an option Ark added simply for the fun of it.


    Then his father opened his eyes and the expression was gone.


    ¡°The player made it back into the portal,¡± he said. ¡°The others didn¡¯t make it to your mother in time.¡±


    ¡°But he didn¡¯t kill her,¡± Melmarc said, holding onto that sliver of good news as he¡¯d been doing since he¡¯d found out. ¡°Mom survived.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯ll be fine, right?¡±


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


    His father nodded, but it was a slight thing, barely noticeable. It was too insignificant to pass for an answer, and Melmarc didn¡¯t know how to feel about it. His father probably didn¡¯t want him to notice, but kids saw a lot more than adults thought, there wasn¡¯t a child that didn¡¯t. They saw most of the things adults forgot to hide and a few of the ones they tried to hide.


    But what differentiated them from adults was that most children didn¡¯t understand most of the things they saw. When it came to their father, Melmarc and Ark did their best to at least try and understand them.


    It was their game, but it was also one of their connections with their father.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes looked down. He watched his hands fidgeting again, stared at the blue sheets covered in little yellow fishes as long as his thumb.


    ¡°Will she be fine?¡± he asked in a quiet voice. The moment the words were out of his lips, a small part of him hoped his father hadn¡¯t heard it.


    But of course he had. His father was a Gifted. His human abilities were beyond any normal person. It took him a moment to answer, but he did.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, buddy. The doctors are doing the best they can.¡±


    Melmarc nodded absently.


    A part of him had wanted to know. But now that he knew, he wasn¡¯t sure how he felt. He didn¡¯t like it, certainly, but that was not enough. There were more. There was a part of him that was happy his father had told him the truth, and a part of him that was sad his father had told him.


    ¡°Mel.¡±


    Melmarc raised his head.


    ¡°Your mom is alive,¡± his father said. ¡°I visit her every day, and every day she¡¯s alive.¡±


    ¡°What of the portals?¡± Melmarc asked.


    His father was a Delver, his job was to close portals when they opened.


    Sometimes a portal could be open for days, or weeks. Melmarc had never heard of a portal that had been closed in less than half a day. And those that were closed within a day were rare, like full expressions on his dad¡¯s face.


    ¡°The country can handle the portals without me for a while,¡± his father answered. ¡°For now I do the things I can do, and make out time to see your mom every day.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, not that he knew the details of what his father was saying.


    There were times when his parents could be gone for days. Whenever that was supposed to happen, uncle Dorthna came to spend time at the house. He wasn¡¯t really their uncle, not biologically, but they called him uncle. He was simply a friend of their parents. A Gifted but not a Delver.


    So whenever uncle Dorthna showed up at the door, they knew work would take their parents for a long time. But it was never too long. The longest they had ever been gone for was two weeks, and that had happened only twice.


    Mostly, it was for just a few days.


    So Melmarc couldn¡¯t understand what his dad was saying. His parents had never spent more than four consecutive days at home unless they were on a holiday, and Ninra said their holidays were no more than two weeks every few months.


    Still, he nodded, accepted that his dad had stayed for three weeks unhindered.


    ¡°He used a type of light on mom,¡± Melmarc said suddenly. ¡°It was big and bright and white. He used it to hurt her.¡±


    His father nodded. ¡°He did.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He watched his father¡¯s contemplative expression slipped on. His father looked to the side, stared at the brown curtains.


    ¡°Because your mother is strong,¡± he said finally.


    ¡°But she¡¯s not the only Gifted in town.¡± Melmarc had heard a few things about that night, nothing certain, but enough rumors to know that was not the whole answer. ¡°There are other Gifted around. Jennina¡¯s dad was around. And Ton¡¯s mom, too. Ton¡¯s mom is strong, really strong.¡±


    Melmarc had taken an Iguana Ark had found on their front yard a few months before, and their parents had allowed him take care of it. Nobody had expected any of the children to bring anything truly special, then Ton had brought his mom.


    It had been the best show and tell ever.


    Melmarc¡¯s dad simply nodded along as he spoke, waiting patiently, listening aptly.


    When Melmarc was done, he said, ¡°Ton¡¯s mom is not your mom. The person that fought your mom had friends that wanted to do bad things. He knew your mom was going to stop them so he tried to stop your mom.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t Ton¡¯s mom stop them?¡± Melmarc asked.


    His father shook his head. ¡°She could not.¡±


    ¡°What of Jennina¡¯s dad?¡±


    ¡°He could not. You know that the Delvers are different, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. Everyone knew that.


    And it wasn¡¯t just the Delvers. The Gifted as a whole were different, and amongst them only a few went on to be Delvers. The Delvers were the Gifted that chose to not only register their classes and skills with the government but also agreed to work towards closing portals, either with the government or independent companies.


    The government and these companies took them and paid them a lot of money because it was a risky job. So while all the Gifted registered their classes and skills with the government, not all Gifted were Delvers.


    As for the difference between the Gifted, it was their classes and ranks. Naturally, they were many times stronger than ordinary people, but amongst themselves things differed more.


    Some of them were skilled with what were called Strength based classes. They were more on the physically domineering side of strength. The Agility type classes gave the Gifted speed and dexterity. And the Intelligence type classes were the ones that actually looked like they could work magic. Most of their skills looked like something from a wizard comic.


    It was a common take on the Gifted that you could expect a Strength type to break down the house, the Agility type to get away quickly, and the Intelligence type to dazzle you while packing a punch.


    Ton¡¯s mom was an example of a Strength type. She¡¯d told them the name of her class but Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember it.


    There were outliers, though. Gifted who belonged to one class but had other perks. Like a Strength type Class could probably smell really well or hear really well. There was a popular Delver who could hear a pin drop over ten kilometers away and another that could smell the rain before it fell.


    Some of them could even fly, or shoot lasers from their eyes like in the comic books. There was a Delver amongst the Intelligence type Classes that people called Dragon-Knight who could breathe fire from her mouth, like an actual dragon.


    Melmarc and his brother could never really decide if Dragon-Knight was really an Intelligence type or a Strength type. If she was an Intelligence type then the fire would be magical, and if she was a Strength type, the fire would be pure fire.


    She had said at the beginning of her career that she was an Intelligence type, considering she had an actual familiar. But as her career evolved, some things happened to called that into question.


    His father nodded, drawing Melmarc from his contemplations.


    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± he said as he nodded. ¡°Ton¡¯s mom is something called an augmenter. Most of her skills allow her increase how strong she is. And Jennina¡¯s dad, Mr. Ilya, uses his skills to make fire not hurt him.¡±


    ¡°So he¡¯s fire resistant?¡± Melmarc said.


    His father nodded. ¡°Yes, Mr. Ilya is fire resistant. But while they are strong, they wouldn¡¯t have been able to stop the Players.¡±


    ¡°So he fought mom because mom is strong?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    It never occurred to Melmarc that being strong could put you at risk. It had never occurred to him that there could be a day when his parents could go out and never come back.


    ¡°He would have left her alone if she wasn¡¯t strong,¡± he mumbled, looking down again, thinking. ¡°But if you are weak you get bullied.¡±


    He stopped fidgeting with his fingers and placed them on the sheets. Countless tiny yellow fish stared at him from the sheets.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be weak so that you don¡¯t have bullies,¡± he said after a while. ¡°And don¡¯t be too strong so that bad guys don¡¯t break into your house.¡±


    ¡°Or you could be strong enough that they wouldn¡¯t even dare.¡±


    Melmarc looked up abruptly. There was something in his father¡¯s voice, something hard. He¡¯d heard it in adults in movies from time to time, even in normal adults. But never in his father. When he looked at his father, he found him staring at nothing.


    His eyes were wet, but he wasn¡¯t crying. Just staring. But his jaw was hard, and his bottom lip quivered slightly.


    ¡°The weak get bullied,¡± his father said in so low a voice that Melmarc could barely hear him, ¡°so we protect them. But you need to be strong to stop a bully.¡±


    ¡°But if you¡¯re strong when a crime is happening, the criminals target you,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°So you get stronger.¡± His father still wasn¡¯t looking at him. ¡°Very strong. So strong that they won¡¯t want to come to your house and fight you. So strong that they won¡¯t come to your house when you¡¯re not around and attack your wife.¡±


    Is he crying?


    A single tear crawled down his father¡¯s left cheek. His father didn¡¯t bother to clean it so Melmarc reached forward with the hand that didn¡¯t have the drip in it and cleaned it.


    ¡°Dad?¡±


    At first his father didn¡¯t answer him. He simply stared out into nothing. It worried Melmarc so he tried again.


    ¡°Dad?¡±


    His father took a deep breath, then let it out in a slow sigh.


    He looked at Melmarc as if he¡¯d forgotten he was there and his toneless expression returned. ¡°The ambulance said that when they found you and your brother, the two of you were together. That is good. You and your brother should always protect each other. Protect your sister, too, just the way she will protect you. Even if you are Gifted or not, you should always care for each other. It¡¯s what good people do, and it is what families do.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t even considered the possibility that he would not be gifted. Not everybody gained skills, he knew this. But he¡¯d just always thought he would be one of those that did. His mom and dad were Gifted so it just seemed normal that he and his brother and sister would be Gifted.


    ¡°I might not become a Gifted?¡± he asked, unable to stop himself.


    His father¡¯s eyes softened. ¡°Not everybody gets to be a Gifted.¡±


    It was a simple answer, yet it scared Melmarc. The possibility of not being a Gifted had never crossed his mind. He even had skills he always wanted.


    Hearing that he might not be was a new worry.


    His father watched him, as if he could see into his mind, then continued. ¡°For every ten thousand people there is one gifted, Mel. Not being gifted is what is normal. Normal people are not gifted.¡± He paused, contemplative. ¡°Not being Gifted is also good.¡±


    Melmarc could hear everything his father was saying, but he wasn¡¯t listening. The Gifted were strong, and there was no argument that could change that. It was like arguing that his head was stronger than a tree. But that was a lie, no matter how many times he hit his head on a tree, it would always hurt.


    I might not get any skills, he thought. I might not become a Delver.


    His hands trembled again and reminded him of the time he¡¯d spent hiding in the closet with Ark while someone tried to kill their mom. The possibility that he might not be like his parents pressed down on him, and suddenly his scar started to hurt again.


    The doctors had been wrong. They¡¯d said it was completely healed.


    ¡°Mel?¡±


    Melmarc looked at his father. He had a lot of things running through his mind, a lot of things to say. Only one came out.


    ¡°But I want to be a Delver¡­ like you.¡±


    For the first time he saw his father¡¯s face fall. It was the heaviest expression he¡¯d ever seen on his face.


    And it was painful to look at.

 FIVE: Tricked

    Melmarc remained in the hospital for another few weeks before he was discharged. According to the doctors, he was fine, healthy. They had only kept him for further observation.


    ¡°Just a precaution,¡± one of the doctors had said to his father. ¡°We just want to be a hundred percent certain that he¡¯s good to go.¡±


    His father had nodded and said nothing more.


    A week before his discharge they had brought a gifted to his room. She had been one of the many gifted who was not a Delver. Instead, she used her skills, all of which were designed towards healing of one form or another to help hospitals around the country. Sometimes she helped in other places too.


    She was brought in to clear out Melmarc¡¯s scar only after they¡¯d asked if he still wanted it gone.


    ¡°It¡¯s a cool scar,¡± was all Ark had said when Melmarc had asked him what he thought of the idea of getting rid of it.


    Ninra had shrugged, which wasn¡¯t surprising. And his father had said he would support any decision Melmarc took. It was odd how everyone was treating it like a life changing decision.


    Despite everyone¡¯s opinion¡ªor lack of opinion¡ªon the matter, Melmarc found it odd that the doctors had even had to ask. Who would want to keep a scar? It wasn¡¯t like it was a cool scar that made him look deadly, like the scar a Delver, aptly named Scar, had that ran horizontally across the bridge of his nose.


    In the end, the healer had been brought in to heal his scar.


    She had failed.


    Melmarc had been depressed to learn he would not be getting rid of the scar. It would remain with him, a reminder of a terrible night. His father had seemed unbothered by the healer¡¯s inability. When the doctor claimed there was a chance the strength of the Player¡¯s mana might have had qualities that made getting rid of the scar impossible, his father had simply nodded.


    Ark took the entire ordeal in a different direction. It was still a cool scar to him.


    On the day they were discharged, Uncle Dorthna had come to pick them up in his car. He was as full of life as usual, cracking jokes about any and everything. He was one of those people that could get away with making any kind of joke. Melmarc never really understood how he did it. Uncle Dorthna always knew what to say to make you laugh, and how to say it, and when to say it.


    He didn¡¯t have a funny face, because, according to Ninra, he was handsome. But he had funny words and a smile that made you smile back.


    On their way home, Ark, playing with an action figure of the Delver, Dark-Mist, had offered his excitement about Melmarc¡¯s scar and the fact that they couldn¡¯t get rid of it. ¡°I get to tell everyone that my brother fought a Player and survived.¡±


    Melmarc had stared up at the ceiling of the car. He wasn¡¯t sure of how he felt about people knowing of what had happened to him, but in their city everyone knew everything so it would be hard to keep this a secret. ¡°I didn¡¯t fight a Player, Ark. I fought a piece of glass in my belly.¡±


    ¡°A piece of glass with a Player¡¯s mana. And you won. To me, that¡¯s fighting a Player and winning.¡±


    Melmarc wondered if he should mention that he¡¯d actually lost when he¡¯d fallen unconscious in Ark¡¯s arms in the closet, and had only survived because he¡¯d managed to get to the hospital, which meant the doctors and nurses had been the ones to actually win the fight. But he had a feeling his brother would just turn it around and make it sound like he¡¯d still played a major part in the win.


    So he said nothing.


    He caught Uncle Dorthna watching him through the rearview mirror. When their eyes met, uncle Dorthna gave him a wide smile and mouthed, Cool scar.


    Melmarc smiled back and closed his eyes for the rest of the car ride. Unlike most people, a car ride was like a rocking crib to him. It was the perfect place to fall asleep. Before he did, though, he remembered a piece of plastic he¡¯d hidden from the nurses when he¡¯d heard uncle Dorthna was coming.


    He pulled the plastic out of his pocket and held it out to his uncle. It was an old game uncle Dorthna played with all of them since Melmarc could remember. Any disposable that was relatively clean was a disposable he was willing to take from them. There were some he refused. Melmarc and Ark had speculated countless time on what criteria constituted one that was acceptable and one that was not.


    They still hadn¡¯t figured it out.


    With his eyes still on the road, his uncle reached behind him with one hand and took the plastic. It had been a cup once.


    Dorthna studied it casually as he drove. He turned it from side to side, then around. After a while, he placed it gently on the dashboard where it turned gently on its own.


    Then Melmarc allowed himself fall asleep. When they got home and he woke up, the cup was nowhere to be found.


    I guess it wasn¡¯t a good trash.


    Their house was already back in shape by the time they got home. There were no broken walls from explosions or his mother being thrown into them. The stairs and the front porch were newer than before, but except for them, the entire house looked the same.


    The living room had the same chairs and everything. A four seater couch that was brown and could be extended into a bed that Uncle Dorthna loved spending his nights on even though he had his own room for whenever he came to stay. Their wide screen television was still mounted on the wall. The few other chairs that filled the living room were still there looking exactly the same as he remembered. A massive red rug, pictures of the family hanging on the walls, and a treadmill they¡¯d gotten for Ninra when she joined the track team a year ago.


    Melmarc passed them all, staring in awe as he went to his room. Everything was somehow the same, which didn¡¯t make sense.


    Ark was giddy through it all, happy with Melmarc¡¯s reaction. Ninra smiled throughout, chewing on an at least two pieces of chewing gum and smiling almost as excitedly as Ark. It was one of the few times when she wasn¡¯t on her phone.


    Their room was also the same. There was nothing out of place in it. The broken bed had been restored. The flooring was the same brown wood as it had always been. Everything was¡­ the same. It was as confusing as it was impressive.


    ¡°It was my idea,¡± Ark told him when everyone had finally left them in the room to go about whatever else they wished to do after confirming that Melmarc was fine. ¡°Do you like it?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know, but he nodded. He could tell his brother had put some thought into the idea. It was how it was with him. Ark could blurt out the most outrageous ideas as if they just came to him, but Melmarc knew most of them came after thoughtful consideration.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Ninra wanted to make it look more pic¡­ more¡­¡± Ark puckered his lips in thought as he tried to find the word he was looking for. When he did, it was with a wide smile. ¡°More picturesque. Nin wanted to make it more picturesque.¡±


    He pronounced the word more slowly the second time, as if he might bite his tongue if he didn¡¯t.


    Melmarc nodded as his brother spoke. He had no idea what the word meant, and he had a feeling his brother didn¡¯t know either. It was likely that their sister had used the word and he¡¯d just held on to remembering it.


    Still, Melmarc liked learning, so he asked, ¡°What does it mean?¡±


    ¡°What does what mean?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°That word. Picsh¡­¡± Melmarc frowned. It was a harder word to remember than he¡¯d thought. ¡°The word that sounds like picture.¡±


    ¡°Oh, picturesque?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°No idea,¡± Ark said with a shrug and a big smile. ¡°But it¡¯s a big word, and I like it.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but smile back. He could always count on Ark to do things like this, things people didn¡¯t normally do.


    He spent a few more seconds looking around the room and found nothing new. His attention paused when it fell on the window in the room. It was the first thing that had destroyed. A piece of it had almost killed him. But there it was, looking back as if it had never been broken.


    It still has that crack from when Ark threw his toy at it.


    He turned back to Ark. ¡°But how did they get it to look the same?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Ark said, happy to explain, ¡°daddy asked if we wanted to move, and Ninra said no.¡±


    Melmarc remembered that. On one of their many walks in the hospital, Ark had pitched the idea of moving to a new place to him. At the time he hadn¡¯t really given it too much thought. He went to school here, and his few friends were friends from school. Moving meant he¡¯d have to find new friends, and his friends would miss him just as much as he would miss them, so he¡¯d simply asked why they had to move.


    Ark had said nothing to that, simply nodding. He must¡¯ve taken that as Melmarc¡¯s wish not to move. Not that he was wrong. Melmarc had a feeling similar reasons surrounded Ninra¡¯s decision to stay, too.


    ¡°So we told him we didn¡¯t want to move,¡± Ark was saying. ¡°He didn¡¯t really say anything to that¡ªyou know how he can be¡ªbut he had that look on his face. You know the one where he¡¯s looking at nothing but looking at something at the same time.¡±


    ¡°His thinking face,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s thinking face. I thought he was thinking of fixing up the house and how, so I said he should make it exactly the same.¡±


    And he did, Melmarc thought. But how?


    ¡°But Ninra said it was impossible,¡± Ark continued. ¡°And daddy said it was not. So he bringed.¡± He paused. ¡°He brought a friend from work, and he looks around the place for like thirty minutes and says it¡¯s doable. Another friend comes later, and here we are. New house, old house.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ magic,¡± Melmarc concluded.


    ¡°Yep. Delvers are amazing.¡±


    Melmarc said nothing. There wasn¡¯t much to say.


    Delvers were amazing. They had been amazing since the first gifted to ever have skills over two hundred years ago. But things had been simpler two hundred years ago, according to most people¡¯s take on it. In fact, there had been no Delvers then. People had simply developed skills over time and used them for whatever they wanted.


    At first it was simple skills like the ability to smell very well, like dogs. Or the ability to move simple things with their minds. Or light a candle from twenty feet. Or see very far.


    In school they¡¯d been taught the name of the first ever recorded gifted. Melmarc didn¡¯t care enough to remember what the woman¡¯s name was because it hadn¡¯t been really important to him. But he remembered that her gift had been healing and it had made people turn her into what his teacher called a religious figure.


    There were people with her skill now, or at least some variation of it. It was called [Word of Minor Healing]. According to a website were the owner listed out all publicly known skills and what they did, [Word of Minor Healing] was a healing skill that cured simple injuries like grazes or cuts. It could cure dislocations, too. But serious injuries like a broken bone or a really deep wound were out of its reach. According to the website, all it could do for injuries like those was remove some of the pain.


    Delvers didn¡¯t appear until after a hundred years. Melmarc could still remember the first time he¡¯d learned about it in school. Ms. Tutchi had come down with a cold and they¡¯d gotten a substitute teacher who looked like it had always been his dream to teach.


    It was after the first recorded portal had appeared, and the first intruders had come to the world. No one knew what types of intruders they were, but many people claimed they were more like monsters. The gifted had done their best to protect themselves, fighting off the intruders until the portal had closed. Then portals had slowly become a part of their lives. At that time, the number of gifted when compared to normal people was small. It was still small now, but it had been very small then.


    The question became, how did Delvers come to be.


    The answer he knew was simple but suspicious. According to what he was taught in school, the first Delver was a man called Daytona. His last name started with an ¡®S¡¯ but Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember it. What he could remember was that the man had fought the first Player to come from a portal. He had lost horribly, but he was called the first Delver because he was the first person to enter a portal and come back.


    He was also the one that motivated the further study into skills and what they were truly capable of.


    No one disturbed him and Ark for a good while.


    Ark¡¯s joy and excitement lasted for longer than Melmarc had thought he would be able to keep it up. He was more than enthused to show off how old everything new was. From his toys to his clothes to his school books.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Melmarc asked, pointing.


    Ark turned away from the closet where he was putting back one of his favorite shirts that had a green stain around the shoulder that had never washed off. It was very clear against the shirt¡¯s yellow color. Their mom had tried to throw it out once but Ark had thrown a fit. In the end, he got to keep the shirt.


    Ark walked up to their reading table at one end of the room and placed his hand on a short stack of books. They¡¯d spent most of their time on that table doing home assignments. School work was the only reason the table was in their room, so when he saw something that didn¡¯t belong, it caught his attention.


    With one hand on the stack, Ark took a book from the pile with the other. He slid it out dramatically and held it up for Melmarc to see. ¡°This?¡±


    Melmarc read the title. ¡°Dark-Mist and his many tales.¡±


    On the front page Melmarc was the picture of the Delver, Dark-Mist, in his popular combat uniform. He wore a black hooded cloak that covered the top half of his face. The cloak billowed about him, and most of his body was shrouded in mist that came out from within the cloak. It made it hard for the rest of his body to be seen.


    The book was thick, and Melmarc looked at his older brother skeptically. ¡°What exactly is that?¡±


    Ark turned the book to face himself. He ran his eyes along the cover of the book as if he wanted to be sure he was holding up the right book, then looked back at Melmarc. ¡°It¡¯s all the stories about Dark-Mist.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t get it. He knew Ark was obsessed with the Delver, but the book was too big.


    ¡°But you don¡¯t like reading,¡± he said.


    Ark lowered the book, crestfallen. ¡°You don¡¯t have to say it like that.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Like I¡¯m dumb.¡±


    Melmarc paused, confused. Then it took a moment for it to come to him. ¡°But I said you don¡¯t like reading, not that you don¡¯t know how to read. I didn¡¯t say you were dumb.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s how it sounded.¡±


    Melmarc bit down on his lower lip, held back the urge to defend himself even though he really wanted to. He hadn¡¯t said his brother was dumb.


    But if someone had told him something like that, someone that wasn¡¯t his brother, he might¡¯ve taken it that way. Maybe he had said it wrong. What he¡¯d meant was that Ark didn¡¯t like reading. He did his math home assignments easily and quickly. It was the reading assignments that gave him a problem. Uncle Dorthna always had to help him with those.


    As true as his words were, the confidence of saying the truth paled in the presence of his brother¡¯s sad face.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said after a while. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that. I know you¡¯re smart. You help me with my math homework all the time.¡±


    A slow grin split Ark¡¯s face. ¡°That I do. And you¡¯re right, I hate reading.¡±


    Then he beamed suddenly and ran up to their bed where Melmarc was sitting, book in hand. His excitement was back as if it had never left.


    He climbed up the bed to sit next to Melmarc with a wide smile. ¡°That¡¯s why this book isn¡¯t about words.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± Melmarc complained. ¡°You tricked me.¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°No I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You made me think you were sad.¡±


    ¡°I never said I was sad.¡± Ark opposed. ¡°Why will I be sad? I don¡¯t like reading. That¡¯s why this,¡± he raised the book up, ¡°is a comic book about Dark-Mist.¡±


    Melmarc had never seen a comic book that big. It was almost half the size of a dictionary.


    Ark opened the book, and while Melmarc didn¡¯t like the fact that he¡¯d been tricked, his worries went away with the first page.


    In it, Dark-Mist was a boy¡­ Just like him.

 SIX: IED

    ¡°I think Mr. Trald and Ms. Pentint are dating,¡± Delano North said, rubbing his left eye furiously with one hand as they walked down the sidewalk. ¡°He keeps looking at her the way Eroms looks at milkshake, and she keeps making jokes about him eating her plate clean when they think we can¡¯t hear them.¡±


    His left eye was red as an apple with orange streaks, and was beginning to swell. It was also tearing up.


    ¡°I thought you said you were getting that checked.¡± Melmarc, held a ball under his arm while they walked back home from school.


    ¡°I did.¡± Delano rubbed a little less furiously. ¡°The doctor said I¡¯ve got some kind of eye irritation. I got eye drops, and some pill the size of my thumb. Say¡¯s I¡¯m supposed to swallow it whole.¡±


    ¡°How else are you supposed to take pills?¡± Eroms, the third member of their group asked, genuinely curious. ¡°I always take mine whole.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you innocent thing,¡± Delano cooed, patting Eroms on the back. ¡°There are many other ways to take a pill, my massive friend.¡±


    A few years ago, Eroms had been ¡®my fat friend¡¯ to Delano. Then a year ago he got his growth spurt. He didn¡¯t lose much in the way of his fat, but now, he looked less like a fat kid and more like a huge kid. He stood over most kid by well over a head.


    All three of them had left school almost thirty minutes ago. Normally they took the school bus but they¡¯d stayed behind because Delano really wanted to play a game of basketball so they¡¯d missed the bus.


    ¡°I¡¯ve still got the pack in my bag, if you want to see.¡± Delano was maneuvering his bag around his shoulder so he could reach it. He was wearing a dark hoodie with the symbol of the bank where his dad worked emblazoned across the front, simple black pants and a white shoe. Rummaging around in his bag he looked like a sketchy drug dealer.


    Despite his size, Eroms looked like a teddy bear, at least that was how Ninra described him. Melmarc didn¡¯t see it. All he saw was a really tall boy with a lot of size on him. Maybe it was because he¡¯d known Eroms since he was the same height as the rest of them.


    He was also very innocent, and it showed in his curiosity as he patiently waited for Delano to be done rummaging in his bag.


    From the sounds Melmarc was hearing, Delano wasn¡¯t bringing out the entire pack from his bag.


    His brows furrowed. ¡°Are you opening one right now?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± Delano answered easily. He pulled out a single pill and held it up like something sacred and to be venerated. ¡°Behold! The eye healing pill. Affordable at pharmacies near you.¡±


    He scratched his eye again, and Eroms smacked his hand away.


    ¡°Stop that,¡± he complained. ¡°It¡¯s making me want to scratch mine.¡±


    They had stopped walking to look at the pill, and while it wasn¡¯t as big as Delano¡¯s thumb, it was definitely on the larger side of pills Melmarc had ever seen.


    ¡°That¡¯s very big,¡± Eroms said. ¡°But I still don¡¯t see any other way to take a pill.¡±


    ¡°There are suppositories,¡± Melmarc said on an off-hand then bounced the basketball once, looking away from the pill. The sound of the bounced ball rang loud.


    ¡°Why would you go and make me think of that?¡± Delano complained. ¡°Do you see the size of this thing? Why would I want to¡ª¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Eroms asked.


    Delano turned to him. ¡°It¡¯s a pill you put up your ass.¡±


    Eroms eyes widened slowly, then his face scrunched up in disgust. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I know right, why would he make me think of putting something this big up my¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Eroms interrupted him. ¡°And stop talking about putting things in your ass. I meant why would anyone put pills up their bum?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged, and they started walking again. ¡°I don¡¯t know. That¡¯s just how the pills are made. You¡¯re supposed to¡­¡± he made a gesture of slipping something up a hole with his finger, then shrugged again. ¡°It¡¯s just how it works.¡±


    Eroms shivered visibly. Winter was close, but the first snow had not fallen. And with his sweater with a brown bear design on the front and his grey pants, there was no way it was from the cold.


    ¡°Why would anyone want to be putting things up their bum?¡± he asked, not wanting an answer.


    But Delano was more than happy to give him one. ¡°Well, sometimes it helps you¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Melmarc said hurriedly, cutting him off.


    ¡°But he¡¯s a big boy.¡± Delano was grinning, the topic of the size of his pill forgotten. ¡°He¡¯s sixteen, he should know these things.¡±


    Melmarc could always trust Delano to take any chance he got to tell Eroms things Eroms would later wish he¡¯d never learned. For instance, different situations that led to suppository usage, and any other bum related transactions.


    ¡°Stop trying to teach Eroms things you aren¡¯t qualified to¡ª¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re getting married next month.¡± Eroms adjusted his bag, staring ahead of them as they got to an intersection and waited to cross the road.


    ¡°Sorry, who?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Trald and Ms. Pentint. I heard the principal talking about it last week. He was trying to get substitute teachers to take over for when they¡¯re on their honeymoon.¡±


    ¡°One month ahead?¡± Delano snorted. ¡°Talk about thorough.¡±


    The road freed up enough and they crossed it to the other side. They all lived in the same general direction. It would be a few blocks before each of them would have to go their separate ways. But their homes weren¡¯t very far from their school so walking wasn¡¯t much of a big deal.


    Melmarc adjusted his bag. The thing kept slipping from his shoulders everytime.


    ¡°It¡¯s a backpack,¡± Delano said, reaching forward to tighten the strap on the hand. ¡°Emphasis on backpack. You wear the straps over both shoulders. If you keep wearing it over one shoulder, it¡¯ll keep slipping.¡±


    He tightened the strap Melmarc had over one shoulder. ¡°That should keep it from slipping now.¡±


    Then he adjusted his, tucked it over his shoulder once more.


    Melmarc stared at the boy pointedly, looking from his face to the simple strap of his own backpack worn over one shoulder.


    ¡°Really?¡± he said flatly.


    ¡°What can I say. Do as I say not as I do.¡± Delano adjusted his backpack once more. ¡°Anyway, looking for a substitute teacher one month ahead is just overkill.¡±


    ¡°It beats looking for a substitute teacher at dying minute,¡± Eroms countered.


    ¡°True. But he can meet it half way, right. Look for a substitute teacher just before they leave. That way it feels more natural.¡±


    Melmarc smiled a bit. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the general consensus for natural, D. I think that¡¯s just you.¡±


    ¡°Says the guy taking self-defense classes at a local gym when his parents are actual Delvers.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve told you before,¡± Melmarc said with a sigh. ¡°You can¡¯t expect my parents to teach me how to defend myself. I¡¯m sixteen, and they¡¯re Delvers.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Eroms said, voice slightly muffled. ¡°One mistake and he could go splat.¡±


    Melmarc looked at him. ¡°Yeah, exac¡ªwhere¡¯d you get a donut?¡±


    ¡°Lunch lady.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand how the lunch lady keeps getting you these things when the cafeteria food is honestly horrible,¡± Delano said. ¡°It¡¯s like they¡¯re duty bound to make sure we don¡¯t go back for seconds.¡±


    Eroms paused. ¡°I go back for seconds.¡±


    ¡°Eroms.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°No offense, and I say this from a place of love, you¡¯re like a raccoon. You¡¯ll eat anything.¡±


    Eroms gave it some thought, then shrugged.


    ¡°And that¡¯s why he gets donuts from the lunch lady, and she always gives you the part of the chowder that tastes weird,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°I swear she¡¯s out to get me.¡± Delano brought out his wallet from his pants pocket and was looking around. ¡°Do you know I¡¯m the only one who¡¯s chowder tastes funny on chowder Tuesdays. Trust me, I¡¯ve asked around. It¡¯s like she makes a special portion she only brings out when she sees me coming.¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°You called her food prison grub.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s true. My Uncle Edwin went to prison and the food in the cafeteria tastes the way he describes food in prison. And how was I supposed to know she was standing right behind me. That only happens in cartoons and shitty comedies. You¡¯re not supposed to run into the cafeteria lady in the hallway. It¡¯s like running into a snow man in spring.¡±


    Finding nowhere he could spend his money on whatever he was looking for, Delano slipped his wallet back into his pocket. ¡°Also, I said I was sorry.¡±


    ¡°No, Eroms said you were sorry. All you did was mutter something about not seeing her there while he bent your head and made you bow.¡±


    ¡°In my defense, I didn¡¯t see her there.¡±


    Eroms finished his donut, reached into his backpack and brought out another one.


    ¡°You see.¡± Delano pointed at him. ¡°How does he get two donuts? And this one¡¯s glazed. How¡¯s that fair?¡±


    Delano had a point. It did seem kind of unfair. It was no rumor in school that Eroms got the best cafeteria treatment on account of being the lunch lady¡¯s friend.


    The donuts looked good. And Eroms certainly looked like they were.


    ¡°Do you have any more of those?¡± Melmarc asked him.


    Eroms nodded and pulled out another one easily. It was in a paper wrapper and was sprinkled with sugar. Standing between them, Delano watched the donut change hands.


    Melmarc bit into his donut. These are actually good.


    Delano looked between both of them. ¡°Uhh¡­ there are three of us. Don¡¯t I get a donut?¡±


    Eroms looked at him. ¡°No.¡±


    Delano sighed. ¡°Sorry. May I please have a donut.¡±


    Melmarc chuckled. Eroms had developed a new method of interaction with Delano sometime last year, and was sticking to it. Delano had to learn to use words like please, sorry, and thank you where appropriate anytime he needed or wanted something from him.


    At first Delano had said it wouldn¡¯t last, and Melmarc had been inclined to believe¡ªthe boy didn¡¯t have one polite bone in his body. But it had been going for one year and counting now so¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why I have to say please and sorry,¡± Delano complained. ¡°Marc didn¡¯t even ask for a donut. He just asked if you had any more, and you gave him.¡±


    Eroms simply stared at him, brown eyes waiting.


    Delano sighed. ¡°Please?¡±


    Eroms folded the wrap of the donut he just finished into a square as small as it could get and put it in his pocket. ¡°No.¡±


    Delano¡¯s jaw fell. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because you called me fat.¡±


    ¡°But that was in middle school. I didn¡¯t know better.¡±


    There were fully into the residential neighborhood. Soon they would split. Melmarc would take a turn and walk the rest of the journey alone while Eroms and Delano would go further together before they separated.


    While his friends went back and forth about who¡¯d offended who and what retributions and amendments had been made, Melmarc bit into his donut.


    It was as sweet as it looked.


    Off in the distance, just outside the residential streets, a large billboard stood high and wide enough to be seen. On it was the bright smile of one of the country¡¯s Delvers. The government didn¡¯t have a monopoly on Delvers but they did the best they could to train the best they could.


    The man on the poster had a wide smile with white teeth and sparkling blue eyes that could be seen despite the glasses he was wearing. He wore a spandex with bright colors that mixed in yellow and red. It made him stand out, which was the intention. On the billboard, next to his bright smile was a simple line.


    LOOK TO THE SKY AND KNOW IT¡¯S ALRIGHT WHEN IT¡¯S ALL BRIGHT!


    It was a corny line as far as lines went. But Melmarc had a feeling whoever had pitched the line to the advertisement agency had just really, really wanted to use that rhyme. He couldn¡¯t blame the guy for it, he blamed the ad agency.


    On the billboard the Delver looked happy, jovial even. He looked like the kind of guy you¡¯d trust to watch your kid while you stepped away to do something quick. Which, if Melmarc was being honest, was a creepy thing when he really thought about it.


    But All Bright¡ªthe Delver¡ªwas one of the good guys. There were never negative speculations about him on the tabloids or the news outlets, and the only bad light he was ever caught in was from glancing blows simply from his association with the government.


    Melmarc found himself remembering something Ark had once said.


    A year or two ago, before Ninra had moved to college, they¡¯d been sitting in the living room, watching a re-run of one of the news reports where it had been found out that a string of bank robberies had actually been orchestrated by a gifted with the ability to mold metal.


    He was eventually stopped by a Delver, but he¡¯d successfully robbed eight banks before that happened, and there had been casualties.


    The news had speculated that the gifted had ties to the government, and had, at one point in time, been a government sanctioned Delver. According to the news, the government had since destroyed all files and evidence linking him to them.


    Ninra had made a comment about how the government was giving Delvers a bad name and how only private contractors really did right by Delvers. Apparently, the politics involved in governments were preventing Delvers from doing only the right thing.


    Ark had looked up from one of many comic books he liked to read and simply said, ¡°There¡¯s politics everywhere, Nin.¡±


    Ninra had frowned before taking a sip of her vegan smoothie with so many vegetable-based contents that it was basically swamp green. ¡°What I¡¯m saying is that it¡¯s the government. They¡¯re always hiding something. A Delver with ties to them robs a few banks, and instead of owning up to it, apologizing and doing better, they¡¯re hiding and destroying evidence.¡±


    ¡°And the news tells you that their only evidence suggesting the guy was tied to the government is that they say so. But they can¡¯t prove it because the same news claims that the government has destroyed said evidence that supports their claim.¡± Ark had returned his attention back to his book. ¡°Sounds a bit suspicious to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the government,¡± was all Ninra had said. ¡°They¡¯re always doing something shady.¡±


    ¡°Most powerful people are always doing something shady. The government. The number one Delver in the world. The contractors. I¡¯m sure the principal at my school does shady things, and he¡¯s just a principal.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t given it much thought then, but he had sided with Ark on that one. Besides, the news had been reported by Channel 12 which was notorious for their constant attack on the government and government appointed Delvers.


    As Uncle Dorthna liked to say, the day Channel 12 says something good about the government would be the day a Delver rode reindeers on a sleigh in the middle of a winter night and gave presents to kids.


    Then again, he had once been a government sanctioned Delver before retiring for reasons no one talked about, so perhaps it was safe to say that his opinion on the news channel wasn¡¯t entirely objective.


    But he couldn¡¯t agree with part of all powerful people doing shady things. It was like saying Delano didn¡¯t have a filter all the time. Well¡­ he kind of didn¡¯t. But that wasn¡¯t the point. Sometimes he at least knew when not to say something, even if he was going to say it eventually. Still, Melmarc couldn¡¯t bring himself to agree that all powerful people did shady things.


    Their parents were powerful, after all.


    ¡°Marc! Oh, Maaarc.¡±


    Melmarc turned, jostled from his mind. His thoughts fell and he looked up to find Delano and Eroms looking at him.


    ¡°You think he heard anything we said?¡± Delano asked Eroms.


    Eroms shook his head.


    ¡°I think so, too.¡± He gave Melmarc a worried look. ¡°You good? I said your name like twice.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°You sure? You looked really deep in thought.¡±


    ¡°Was just thinking about All Bright.¡± He gestured at the billboard. ¡°Which led me to thinking about that gifted that was robbing banks and how one of the news channel said he was related to the government. Do you think he was?¡±


    Eroms and Delano shared a look.


    ¡°You know why I spend time with you, Marc?¡± Delano asked.


    ¡°Because nobody¡¯s willing to put up with you, and Eroms likes hanging out with me, and you have a crush on my sister, and you think I have secret government information because my parents are Delvers?¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t have any other friends,¡± Eroms added around a bite of another donut.


    How many did the lunch lady give him?


    ¡°No,¡± Delano said, then scowled at Eroms. ¡°And no. But I do think Ninra¡¯s fine¡ª¡±


    ¡°I thought you had a crush on Jennina.¡±


    ¡°I used to have a crush on Jennina. Then I met your sister. She¡¯s like a plum blossom at the tip of a martial blade. Spotless.¡±


    Melmarc winced.


    Eroms chuckled. ¡°You should see your face.¡±


    ¡°As I was saying,¡± Delano interjected pointedly. ¡°Those aren¡¯t the only reasons why I spend time with you, even though I know for a fact that you are keeping at least two government secrets from me. Another reason is because you have that weird thing you do.¡±


    ¡°What weird thing?¡±


    ¡°The one you do with your thoughts.¡±


    Melmarc looked to Eroms, confused. Their friend¡¯s response was a shrug.


    ¡°Wait, you really don¡¯t know?¡± Delano looked between the both of them. ¡°You had a thought that had you spacing out, then, when I ask you, what do you do?¡±


    ¡°I tell you,¡± Melmarc said slowly.


    His friend snapped his finger at him. ¡°Exactly. A normal person would say nothing. But you¡­ you say exactly what¡¯s on your mind.¡±


    Melmarc scratched the back of his neck. ¡°Do I?¡±


    ¡°Uhuh. Like the time you spaced out thinking about how many chickens it takes to feed the entire town and how many farmers can breed how many chickens. Which led you down a spiral of how many farmers are in the town.¡±


    ¡°Turns out the country actually has a main chicken farm that distributes chicken throughout the country, which supports normal chicken farmers. Other countries have something similar too. I found out when¡ª¡±


    His phone vibrated. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. It was a call from Ark.


    Delano peeked over his shoulder and shivered visibly.


    Melmarc let out a sigh as he answered the call.


    ¡°You really have to get over your fear of my brother," he told Delano.


    ¡°I would, but I¡¯m not a fan of that much violence. Just last week he bashed Ebu¡¯s face in for looking at you funny.¡± Delano shivered again.


    ¡°Ebu¡¯s a bully,¡± Eroms pointed out. ¡°I think he got what he deserved.¡±


    Delano thought about it before nodding in agreement. ¡°But how didn¡¯t your brother get expelled?¡±


    ¡°Because there was no evidence, and Ebu didn¡¯t report it,¡± Melmarc said, then he put his phone to his ear. ¡°What¡¯s up, Ark?¡±


    ¡°Where are you?¡± his brother¡¯s voice came in from the phone. He sounded in a hurry, and excited.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡± Melmarc looked around. ¡°You know that place where you get a good view of All Bright?¡±


    ¡°That horrible poster?¡±


    ¡°Billboard,¡± he corrected. ¡°But yes. That¡¯s where I am.¡±


    ¡°34th and Mane. Good. You¡¯re not far. Hurry up, I¡¯ve got something you¡¯ve got to see.¡±


    ¡°This better not be another baby snake. Uncle Dorthna already said you can¡¯t keep those.¡±


    His brother laughed on the other side of the phone. ¡°Not that. I promise you¡¯ll like this one.¡±


    He hung up on Melmarc without a goodbye, and Melmarc stared at the phone, confused.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Delano asked.


    Melmarc shrugged, then slipped his phone back into his pocket. ¡°He¡¯s got something he wants to show me. He sounded really excited.¡±


    ¡°Another baby snake?¡±


    Melmarc thought about it and shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I asked and he said it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°You think he¡¯s learned new ways to bash people¡¯s head in?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed as he thought about what could have his brother so excited. ¡°And you¡¯re going to have to get over that. He¡¯s got a condition. He went to therapy last year, and the doctor said he has something called an IED.¡±


    Delano blanked, confused. ¡°He¡¯s got an Improvised Explosive Device?¡±


    ¡°No. An Intermittent Explosive Disorder.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how you almost get killed from an Intruder attack but your brother¡¯s the one with the PTSD¡­ But I think I get it. You don¡¯t have to almost die to have one of those. I have two uncles in the military. The one that got blown up by an IED has a good bill of mental health, while the one that did the blowing up, has military mandated therapy for his PTSD.¡±


    Eroms grabbed Delano by the ear and steered him to the side.


    ¡°Ow!¡± Delano whined. ¡°You¡¯ve got meaty fingers, that hurts.¡±


    Eroms didn¡¯t stop. Instead, he looked to Melmarc and said, ¡°You should hurry home. Apart from the snake thing, I don¡¯t remember the last time Ark called you home.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. On days when he didn¡¯t take the bus, Ark was always content with waiting him out back home. He turned and was going when Delano asked a question.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t Ark seventeen?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to think about it. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Delano chuckled as he was steered away. ¡°Isn¡¯t that like the age people get their first skills? Imagine if he¡¯s calling because he just got a skill.¡± Then a terrified look crossed his face. ¡°Somehow the thought of your brother having a skill doesn¡¯t make me feel very safe.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but think about it as Delano and Eroms waved him goodbye. He waved back as he turned to the road that would lead him home. He thought about Delano¡¯s words, not the safety part, the skill part.


    Was it possible? Had Ark gotten a skill? Was he gifted now?


    Well, I won¡¯t know till I get home.

 SEVEN: A Dragon

    Five minutes later, Melmarc arrived at his neighborhood. It was an interconnecting area of tarred roads and currently empty sidewalks. Houses stood side by side, demarcated from each other by white picket fences.


    Each home had its own front yard with each individual designs. Some kept clean lawns and others let theirs grow out in odd ways, leaving only a clear path from the front porch to the picket fence.


    In the entire neighborhood, there were two known Gifted, none of which were married to each other. Then there were his parents, the only Gifted that were Delvers. So four in total. Since it wasn¡¯t a mandate of any kind that Gifted become Delvers, most of the Gifted were free to live their lives however they pleased.


    Obviously, criminal acts were frowned upon, and there were special rules designed for the Gifted who committed crimes of any kind. Some states even went the extra mile, building prisons designed to hold only the Gifted.


    Melmarc walked past each house until he arrived at his own. His mind was filled with Delano¡¯s words. He knew his friend had been joking, but he couldn¡¯t get the possibility out of his mind.


    It was common knowledge that the Gifted gained their skills around the age of sixteen. But there were instances were a Gifted gained theirs late. It was a very limited circumstance, and there were only records of four Gifted who¡¯d gained theirs at the age of seventeen. But few didn¡¯t mean impossible.


    Ninra was fine not being Gifted, but Ark had been in a somber mood on his seventeenth birthday. It hadn¡¯t been the most obvious, but Melmarc had seen it. For most people, seventeen marked a new age. For Ark, seventeen marked the end of his dream to be a Delver.


    Inside, Melmarc was greeted to the sweet smell of pasta. He closed the door behind him and walked into the living room.


    He met Uncle Dorthna lounging on one of the sofas, occupied with something on TV.


    ¡°Evening, Uncle Dorth,¡± he said, walking by. ¡°Who¡¯s on kitchen duty?¡±


    ¡°Your sister.¡± Dorthna spoke without looking away from the television. His voice was deep but smooth, nothing like Melmarc¡¯s father¡¯s hoarse baritone.


    Melmarc positioned himself behind his uncle¡¯s couch. He dropped his basketball on the ground, placed his foot on it, and rested his hands on the back rest.


    Dorthna tilted his head up to look at him. He paid Melmarc half his attention while the television played an episode of a show called The Damned and Daring.


    It was one of his uncle¡¯s favorite show where seemingly normal people played a game where they were dared to do seemingly abnormal things with a price at the end of the season for whoever was able to last until the end.


    ¡°What can I do you for?¡± Dorthna said finally.


    ¡°Nothing much.¡±


    Melmarc remembered the folded up donut wrap in his pocket. He hadn¡¯t actually planned on keeping there, he just had a habit of keeping disposable things with him until he was near a bin he could properly dispose the, in.


    But since his uncle was around, he might as well have it. For reasons unknown to anybody, uncle Dorthna liked having things like that. It wasn¡¯t necessarily trash, just simple disposables that were relatively clean.


    In the beginning, it had started with him taking them from him and his siblings when they were younger, then asking for them politely as they grew. Before they knew it, they were keeping things just so they could give him. Nothing too old, though.


    They¡¯d finally learned that anything under ten minutes was always welcome. Fifteen minutes was stretching it. And anything more than fifteen minutes was definitely going to be rejected. Not that all of them made the cut. These were only criteria that determined if he would receive it. The criteria that determined if he would keep it remained a mystery to them.


    Ninra had offered him one of the wraps from her laundry that was over thirty minutes old once, and he¡¯d looked at it as if she¡¯d offered him poop.


    This has to count, right?


    Melmarc slipped his hand into his pocket and brought out the folded wrap that had housed the donut Eroms had given him and held it up for his uncle to see. ¡°I got you this.¡±


    One side of Dorthna¡¯s lips quirked up in a slight smile at the sight of the wrap, and he raised an open palm to receive it.


    Melmarc placed it in the open palm. ¡°It¡¯s a wrap for a donut my friend gave me. He said he got it from the lunch lady in school.¡±


    ¡°That sounds interesting.¡± Dorthna was looking at the folded, white wrap like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Melmarc could turn the TV off and he wouldn¡¯t notice.


    You don¡¯t sound very interested in the backstory, though.


    ¡°Anything else for your good uncle D?¡± his uncle added, placing the folded wrap gently on the couch beside him.


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Well, thank you.¡± With that, his uncle returned his attention to the TV where a guy was wrestling a live anaconda.


    Uncle Dorthna said none of the dares were actually harmful, but Melmarc had a tough time believing him. Especially when dares like this one happened.


    Satisfied with their short encounter, Melmarc turned to go, but Dorthna¡¯s voice stopped him.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to go help your sister in the kitchen?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged his bag over his shoulder out of habit. ¡°She¡¯s good. If there¡¯s anything she¡¯s a master at, it¡¯s making pasta. She even does it better than mom. Where¡¯s mom, by the way?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna was rarely around unless their parents were out on a job, and his mom had been home when he left for school this morning. She¡¯d been discharged from the hospital a month after him, and had stayed home for two more before returning to work.


    ¡°She¡¯s not out on work, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.¡± Dorthna absently turned the wrap with a finger, moving it by its edges. It made a perfect turn each time, as if he¡¯d placed it on a stick and not their rough couch.


    How does he keep it turning in place?


    ¡°Is she home?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He didn¡¯t need to ask about his dad. Their dad had been called to work a few days ago and was yet to return.


    Melmarc made his way to his room only to stop at the door.


    ¡°Uncle D,¡± he asked.


    Dorthna turned to look at him. ¡°Yes, kiddo?¡±


    ¡°Are you ever going to tell us what you keep doing with all the things we give you?¡±


    A sad expression crossed Dorthna¡¯s face, but it was gone as if it had never been. ¡°Every trash has a story to tell. Some are worth listening to, and others are not.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re listening to their stories?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Dorthna turned back to the TV as if he¡¯d given a perfectly logical answer. ¡°Thanks for the wrap, kiddo. It may not look like it, but I really appreciate you helping out.¡±


    Helping out with what? Melmarc thought as he entered his room.


    Dorthna had been a Delver once, until something had happened to make him retire. What type of Delver he had been was a mystery. Apart from his uncanny ability to make things turn on their own, he had never displayed any skill for as long as Melmarc had known him. And he and Ark doubted he used his skill for a task as boring as making trash turn on their own.


    ¡°Alright, Ark,¡± he muttered as he stepped into their room, taking off his bag. ¡°What¡¯s so important that you couldn¡¯t wait for me to get¡ª¡±


    He stopped at the sight of an empty room. To be more precise, the room was full. They had exchanged their twin beds for two single beds when Ark had turned thirteen, so there were now two beds in the room. Apart from that, not much had changed. The room was the same.


    But there was no Ark.


    His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. Emblazoned on the screen was one word.


    ARK


    He accepted the call and placed it to his ear.


    ¡°Did you get lost?¡± Ark asked immediately.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I should be asking you,¡± Melmarc replied, tossing his bag on his bed, and placing his basketball on the ground. He sat on his bed and began taking his shoes off. ¡°I just got in, and I can¡¯t find you.¡±


    ¡°You should¡¯ve said so.¡± He could still hear the excitement in his brother¡¯s voice. ¡°Hurry up, then. Forget about your shoes and socks and come find me.¡±


    Melmarc paused half-way through undoing his shoelace. ¡°Alright but I¡¯ve got to know where you¡ª¡±


    The call ended abruptly, and Melmarc removed the phone from his ear.


    ¡°You¡¯ve really got to get a hold of your emotions,¡± he muttered as he slipped his phone back into his pocket and got up from the bed.


    When his brother got this excited, there was no calming him down. According to him, his therapist said that was part of the reason he had IED. He wasn¡¯t the best when it came to controlling himself. He was impulsive, and needed to learn how not to act on his impulses.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Melmarc rolled his basketball under their reading table, left his bag on his bed, and walked back into the living room.


    ¡°Have you seen Ark?¡± he asked Dorthna as he passed him. On screen a lady was eating a live cockroach from a bowl of live cockroaches still crawling about.


    Melmarc almost gagged.


    Dorthna raised his hand and waved it in a random direction. ¡°Check out back. Something¡¯s got him all excited since he got back from school.¡±


    ¡°Any idea what it is?¡± Melmarc was past the living room and into the dining now. Far enough that Dorthna had to raise his voice slightly to answer.


    ¡°No idea. I tried asking him, but he said it was a secret.¡±


    So he does know how to control himself.


    ¡°Thanks, Uncle D.¡±


    Dorthna waved his thanks down with another vague gesture before dropping his hand.


    Melmarc smiled at how quickly he¡¯d gone back to his show when he realized the folded donut wrap was still on the couch next to his uncle, spinning on its own. It hadn¡¯t been that long since he¡¯d given it to his uncle.


    I guess it made the cut, he thought as he walked into the kitchen.


    The first thing to greet him was the sweet, strong smell of pasta and chicken stew. He inhaled deeply before he could stop himself and caught his sister staring at him with a smirk.


    Ninra was, for a lack of better words, pretty. And Delano¡¯s crush on her certainly wasn¡¯t unfounded. Even as his sister, he could see it. She had their mother¡¯s eyes, a deep forest green that was just a little light around the edges. Her brown hair was always braided one way or the other, and she cared so much for her face that he couldn¡¯t remember ever seeing any pimple on it since she was fifteen.


    She was beautiful, but he¡¯d never be caught admitting it. For record purposes, she¡¯d always be ugly.


    ¡°This is dinner,¡± she told him pointedly. ¡°You missed lunch so mom had me keep yours in the fridge. If you¡¯re hungry, put it in the microwave. If you want any of this, you¡¯ll wait until dinner.¡±


    Melmarc pulled out his phone and checked the time, then turned it for her to see. ¡°Who cooks dinner by 4pm.¡±


    She turned, dropping the spatula in her hand in the sink and turned on the tap. ¡°People who know it¡¯s better to eat dinner before 8.¡±


    She washed her hand under the running water then turned the tap off.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she continued, turning back to him as she dried her hands with a kitchen towel. ¡°What¡¯s got Ark all giddy? I haven¡¯t seen him this happy since we ran into that Delver at that carnival and they told him that he could also be a Delver.¡± She turned her head to the ceiling in thought. ¡°I never can remember that guy¡¯s name. You remember him, right? he was one of those ones that walk around in spandex and like to play superhero.¡±


    Melmarc knew exactly who she was talking about. He knew the Delver¡¯s skills, too. But he shrugged.


    ¡°I remember,¡± he answered, walking up to the fridge. He wasn¡¯t going to be eating now, he just wanted to have a glance at what lunch had been. ¡°So he didn¡¯t tell you why he¡¯s so happy?¡±


    Ninra snorted. ¡°When do you guys ever tell me anything. It¡¯s why I went to church every day praying for a sister when mom was pregnant with you. Then she went and had you. If I didn¡¯t believe God loved me so much, I¡¯d have thought he was trying to punish me.¡±


    Melmarc spared a brief moment to stick his tongue out at her before returning his attention to the fridge.


    Beans for lunch, then pasta for dinner. He reached inside and moved the transparent flask that held his share of lunch. Not too frozen yet. I guess lunch hasn¡¯t been that long ago.


    He closed the refrigerator and turned back to his sister. ¡°Do we have any bread?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Ark had the last slice.¡±


    ¡°Of course he did.¡± Melmarc walked across the kitchen, made his way to the back door. ¡°He¡¯s out there, right?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Tying himself up in knots trying not to tell anyone why he¡¯s so happy. Do me a favor, yeah. I know it¡¯s a secret, but can you tell me when he tells you?¡±


    Melmarc thought about it.


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    He pushed the door open and stepped out into the backyard.


    ¡°You were meant to be a sister,¡± Ninra muttered.


    ¡°I heard that!¡±


    ¡°You were meant to!¡± she called back.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­..


    Melmarc stepped into a breath of fresh air.


    As Delvers, even if government employed, their parents were rich as individuals. Married, they were very rich. However, they weren¡¯t ones to live the life of extravagance. It wasn¡¯t that they were frugal or anything like that¡ªat least that what uncle Dorthna said¡ªit was simply because they didn¡¯t really have what they really wanted to buy.


    The proof of their wealth could be seen in little things. Ninra¡¯s college was one of those things. It was the best the country had to offer when you put their reputation and the success expectancy of their graduates. Two years ago it was voted the best school in the country on an educational standard. Last year it came third and Ark had cracked a joke about how Ninra¡¯s IQ had dropped the school¡¯s average IQ.


    Another place where their riches showed, but only to a minute degree, was in the backyard.


    First, it was the largest in the entire neighborhood. Their mom had always been in love with gardening, and whenever she had the time, she could always be seen here, tending to roses and hibiscuses and flowers with names Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember.


    It was as large as the entire house, maybe larger. She filled it with flowers aplenty so that their entire backyard was one wide patch of green field surrounded by colors. There were roses, hibiscuses, sunflowers, astrantia, astra, azalea, calendula. Or as Ark liked to call them: Red, purple, yellow, pink, white and vomit green.


    Where he got the last part was anyone¡¯s guess, but any time he made fun of how colorful the garden was, he never missed out on vomit green. So Melmarc never forgot it.


    He couldn¡¯t forget how happy their mom had been when she¡¯d returned home to find the entire garden recreated. Their dad had called it a piece of her once, and Melmarc only came to agree the day their mom had come home.


    It was like a privately owned enchanted forest. It smelled like it, too.


    Melmarc took in another breath, inhaled the sweet smell of a garden properly cared for. It helped that whenever their mom wasn¡¯t around uncle Dorthna was always more than happy to tend to it. On the one hand, it meant that he and Ark didn¡¯t have to learn gardening. On another hand, if their mom had insisted they care for it, she was most likely going to end up with some dead flowers.


    He found Ark squatted at one end of the garden. He had a wide and dusty brown hair. His shirt had two tears across the back. Each one was a straight line that gave a glimpse of his fair skin beneath the shirt.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember any stories of Ark getting into a fight in school today so he couldn¡¯t imagine what could have torn his brother¡¯s shirt. And if he hadn¡¯t heard of it, then his brother hadn¡¯t gotten into one. It was just how it was, Ark¡¯s fights were never quiet.


    The only reason he hadn¡¯t still been expelled from school was because some of his fights were clearly justified in defense of Melmarc, and most of them were usually out of the reach of teachers.


    ¡°So what¡¯s so important that you forgot you were supposed to tell me where to find you?¡± Melmarc said, approaching his brother.


    Ark raised a hand to stall him, only half-turning but not looking at him. ¡°Be quiet.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Melmarc dragged the word, uncertain.


    He stood where he was, not sure what his brother was doing. The only thing in the garden besides them and the garden, was a small box all the way on the other side of the garden.


    Melmarc looked around one more time, then plopped down on the grass. It was soft, but capable of staining his pants.


    ¡°There we go,¡± Ark said finally, standing up and dusting his hands. The action left his dust filled hands less dirty but not anywhere near clean.


    ¡°Am I still playing mime or can I speak now?¡± Melmarc reached into his pants pocket and brought out his phone. ¡°Or this going to be a waiting game so I can just start reading one of my books.¡±


    So far the stories he read online had no new chapters coming out today. He¡¯d only pulled his phone out because he¡¯d had nothing he was doing with his hands. The part about reading his books was an empty bluff. Well, it wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t go hunting for new books to read.


    There¡¯s always a hidden gem somewhere in here¡­ or something I would like a lot less than the last story I didn¡¯t like.


    ¡°You hurt my feelings.¡± Ark placed a hand to his chest in mock hurt, realized he¡¯d just stained the shirt and proceeded to dust it off with his still dirty hand. After a brief moment, he stopped and looked at Melmarc. ¡°I¡¯m a klutz.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Look on the bright side. You could¡¯ve been an ugly klutz.¡±


    ¡°Touch¨¦.¡±


    ¡°So why are we in the garden, Ark? Did you suddenly awaken without anyone noticing?¡± Melmarc had intended for the words to come out as a joke but there was no hiding the slight tension beneath it.


    But why? It¡¯s not like I¡¯m worried.


    One look at Ark¡¯s face told him the answer to his question. The glint in his brother¡¯s eyes and the wide smile dimmed slightly.


    Melmarc felt bad for even bringing it up. I guess that¡¯s a no.


    ¡°Way to hit right where it hurts,¡± Ark said, then did a three-sixty.


    Melmarc noticed there were a few more tear marks on the front of his shirt. ¡°What the hell happened to your shirt?¡±


    ¡°Nothing a trash can can¡¯t fix,¡± Ark answered with a dramatic bow.


    ¡°But we¡¯re not here about my shirt,¡± he continued before Melmarc could point out that the shirt seemed like a pretty important topic of conversation. ¡°What we¡¯re here for is completely more interesting. And just because I know the shirt¡¯s going to bother you for a long while, what I¡¯m about to show you is tied to the great mystery of my amazing shirt.¡±


    ¡°How did you even get in without anyone asking about your shirt?¡±


    ¡°That.¡± Ark pointed at something in the corner.


    Melmarc looked. Crumpled in the corner was a grey hoodie, he didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°And no one asked why you were wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer? You¡¯d think that would be worth a few questions.¡±


    ¡°Just last week, I took up lacrosse.¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m the impulsive one, remember? Anyway¡ª¡±


    ¡°Whose hoodie is that?¡± Melmarc was still looking at the hoodie.


    They had black hoodies and blue hoodies. No grey. He and his brothers had similar tastes in clothes and light colors weren¡¯t part of those tastes.


    ¡°I borrowed Freda''s hoodie.¡±


    ¡°You borrowed your girlfriend¡¯s hoodie. I¡¯m assuming this was after whatever happened to your shirt happened to your shirt, and she didn¡¯t think to ask what happened?¡±


    Ark just stood there, staring at him, saying nothing.


    Melmarc¡¯s brows wrinkled in a slight frown. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Has anyone ever told you you¡¯re a spoilsport?¡±


    ¡°Worrying about my brother doesn¡¯t make me a spoilsport.¡±


    ¡°It does when he has an amazing announcement to make and you keep interrupting with boring questions. Now shut up and hear my announcement.¡±


    Melmarc pressed his lips in a thin line. He pantomimed zipping his mouth closed.


    ¡°Now,¡± Ark stepped sideways, ¡°as I was saying. I did not get any skill out of nowhere, and I¡¯m not suddenly gifted. Sad, but I¡¯m kinda accepting that at this point. The silver lining to that is you get a chance at having powers.¡±


    ¡°You do know that thing about how married gifted only have one child that gets to be gifted is just a rumor, right?¡± Melmarc interrupted.


    Ark smirked. ¡°Is it?¡±


    ¡°Think about it. We all know that skills aren¡¯t some kind of mystic power. Its abilities generated from an accumulation of innate mana which cannot be measured. When someone has enough of it, it coalesces and forms your first skill.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t saying anything that supports you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s like biology,¡± Melmarc explained. ¡°If your heart pumps enough blood, you stay alive. If you don¡¯t have enough platelets and protein plasma in your blood, you get issues with your blood clotting when you have an injury. If you don¡¯t have enough innate mana, you don¡¯t get a skill. So two Gifted only being able to have one gifted child doesn¡¯t make sense. What if they have thirty children, do they only get one gifted? What if they have only one, does that one become the only gifted? What if they have one child and that child dies does that¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s dark,¡± Ark pointed out, and he paused.


    ¡°Fair point,¡± he conceded after a while. ¡°My point is that two Gifted won¡¯t get only one gifted child. Mana isn¡¯t some mystic thing or sentient will that chooses who gets to have skills or not, just the way tallness and shortness doesn¡¯t pick which kid is going to be tall or short when a tall person marries a short person. It¡¯s just dumb luck.¡±


    Silence settled between them when Melmarc was done.


    Ark scratched the back of his neck. ¡°If I was some random stranger listening to you over the phone, I¡¯d think you were short.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s not why we¡¯re here, spoilsport,¡± Ark interrupted him. ¡°I will admit you¡¯ve taken all the excitement out of it, but an announcement I have, and an announcement I must make.¡± He walked over to the cardboard box that occupied the back yard with them.


    ¡°There better not be another snake inside that box, Ark.¡± Melmarc didn¡¯t like how whiny his voice sounded, but he really hated snakes.


    The last one Ark had brought home had tried to bite him before Uncle Dorthna had found out about it and thrown it out.


    Ark chuckled. ¡°I already told you it¡¯s not a snake.¡±


    He bent down and held the box, then continued. ¡°You know how I don¡¯t have powers of any kind whatsoever?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got the next best thing.¡± Then he raised the box. ¡°Tada!¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t tell what exactly it was he was looking at when the box came up. It was a bright orange with blue spots that glinted under the evening¡¯s dying sun.


    He could make out a tail, what could be scales on its orange body. He bent his head to the side. Is that a head?


    Whatever it was, it looked a little too large, when compared to the rest of the body. He saw clawed limbs, too. So Ark was right, that definitely answered the question about his shirt.


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°What am I looking at, Ark?¡±


    ¡°This,¡± Ark gestured at the creature, and it turned around, as if on cue, ¡°is a dragon.¡±


    The creature turned and Melmarc spotted stubbled horns extending from both sides of its head.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­ Ark.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a dragon.¡±

 EIGHT: A Guardian

    Melmarc was staring at the orange creature and just couldn¡¯t see a dragon.


    ¡°What do you mean it¡¯s not a dragon?¡± Ark looked between him and the creature. ¡°That¡¯s got to be a dragon.¡±


    The creature unfurled itself from its cooped up position, and Melmarc saw its head clearly.


    ¡°Well, for starters, it¡¯s got horns.¡±


    Ark looked down at the creature. ¡°Well, it could be a different breed of dragons. Who said dragons can¡¯t have horns?¡±


    For something that looked very unnatural, even if it was a little cute with its smallish figure and wide mouth that looked as if it was going to always be smiling, Ark had no problem standing right next to it.


    How long has he had it, exactly?


    Melmarc opened his mouth to give his brother more reasons why the creature was not a dragon when it opened its eyes.


    Large orbs of black eyes looked at him, stained with countless white dots. It was like looking at a star-filled night sky. The entire eye was the single orb, and he found himself unable to look away from it.


    ¡°Mel?¡± Ark stared between the both of them, then smiled. ¡°See? I told you it was a dragon.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head, as if from a trance. He turned his attention back to his brother.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s got no wings. It¡¯s got two horns, and its head is a bit too round for a dragon.¡±


    Ark looked behind Melmarc, checking if there was anyone else listening in. He still had the cardboard box in hand, just in case. ¡°Dragon-Knight¡¯s familiar had a round head when it was small, too. It¡¯s got pictures all over the internet.¡±


    ¡°But it didn¡¯t have horns," Melmarc said. "And it had wings.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe this one¡¯s like a land dragon that can¡¯t fly.¡±


    The creature rose on all four clawed limbs and Melmarc took an involuntary step back. On all fours it barely rose two inches higher than Ark¡¯s ankle. It didn¡¯t even look like a threat of any kind.


    Melmarc looked between it and Ark and cocked a brow. ¡°Do you really want a flightless dragon? That¡¯s like being happy you got a flightless bird.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a name for those: Penguins. And there¡¯s nothing wrong with a flightless dragon, just like there¡¯s nothing wrong with penguins.¡±


    ¡°Who said there¡¯s anything wrong with penguins?¡± Melmarc turned on his phone and went to the internet. After a few taps and a quick search, he turned the screen to his brother. ¡°See? They look similar, but not enough to be the same.¡±


    On the screen of his phone was a picture of Dragon-Knight in a casual outfit and her familiar¡ªa small dragon¡ªon her shoulder. Melmarc estimated the picture had been taken at least two decades ago when the Delver was still a very public figure.


    At the time she had been a sensation. The first Delver to also have a familiar that wasn¡¯t summoned. When it had been young, her dragon familiar had been cute, and black, very black. Now it was larger than a house, still black, and vastly dangerous. Dragon-Knight was also no longer a public figure. As her strength had grown her publicity had dimmed.


    Now the only time people saw her was when she was entering portals.


    Ark bent down to rub the little creature¡¯s head, and it pushed its head against his palm the way cats do when they enjoy a person¡¯s touch.


    Ark rubbed the top of its head gently before moving lower to scratch under its jaw. As he did this, he looked up at Melmarc¡¯s phone.


    ¡°So Dragon-Knight¡¯s familiar¡¯s jaw was a little squared,¡± he said. ¡°And it had wings. So what? They¡¯ve got the same eyes, though.¡±


    Melmarc turned his phone and looked at it. Not that he needed to. Everyone knew what the eyes of the only dragon in the world looked like. They were like a starry night sky. Deep and polished. It was part of what made people love it quickly. There had been so much mysticism about it.


    Now the cuteness was gone. And with its size, the eyes that had once held enthralling mysticism now looked arrogant and dangerous.


    ¡°Ow!¡± Ark hissed suddenly.


    Melmarc raised his head and found Ark clutching his hand in suppressed pain. He ignored his phone immediately, and rushed to him.


    Ark was back to standing again. ¡°Arsehole bit me again!¡±


    Melmarc stood in front of his brother, staring down at the wounded hand. There was blood. A lot of it. Enough for a few drops to hit the grass.


    ¡°We need to get that wrapped up,¡± he said, patting his pockets for his hand towel. He didn¡¯t find it and he remembered why. ¡°Shit, I think I left it in my bag.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Ark waved his worry away. ¡°It just bleeds for a few second then stops.¡±


    Melmarc paused, confused. ¡°It just bleeds for a few seconds then stops?¡±


    Right on cue, the flow slowed, then stopped. What remained was still enough to continue dripping, though.


    Ark raised his hand on display. ¡°See? Not even a scratch.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped. He grabbed his brother¡¯s hand and peered closer. ¡°What the hell?!¡±


    Ark was grinning. ¡°Told you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s got healing properties?¡± Melmarc pressed. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°Cool. I know.¡±


    Ark removed his hand from Melmarc¡¯s, slipped his other hand into his back pocket, and pulled out a handkerchief.


    He wiped the blood from his hand with it. "Got to get at it while its still fresh or it''ll be annoying to get off."


    Melmarc stared at the handkerchief. It was red with a few spots of white peeking out. ¡°Was that supposed to be white?¡±


    Ark snorted as he cleaned off the last of the blood on his hand.


    ¡°This ol¡¯ thing?" he said. There was something in his voice. Worry perhaps. "I can¡¯t say I even remember. Maybe it was red.¡±


    Melmarc narrowed his eyes at him. ¡°Again.¡±


    Ark looked at him, puzzled. ¡°Again?¡±


    ¡°¡®Asshole bit me, again.¡¯ That¡¯s what you said.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Ark refused to make eye contact, and moved the handkerchief behind him.


    ¡°How many times has it bitten you, Ark?¡±


    he shrugged. ¡°Not many.¡±


    Melmarc sighed. He stepped away from his brother and rubbed his forehead in frustration. When he was done, he gave Ark a pointed look.


    ¡°How many times is ¡®not many¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Four?¡±


    ¡°How the hell do you get bitten four times between when you got home, and now?¡± he hissed.


    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s actually four times¡­ today.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve had that¡ª¡± Melmarc cut himself off at the level of his voice and looked at the back door leading back into the house.


    He didn¡¯t see their sister or anyone watching so he looked at the windows upstairs. Those were empty, too. His voice hadn¡¯t drawn any attention so he turned back to Ark and did his best to keep his voice calm.


    ¡°You¡¯ve had this thing the whole day?¡±


    Ark nodded. ¡°I found it at the back of school. The abandoned building that the principal keeps saying is going to be repurposed for one thing or the other.¡±


    ¡°The school is expanding,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°They¡¯re looking to have more classrooms. Wait, why were you at the back of the old abandoned building? Your class is on the other side of the school.¡±


    Ark waved the question aside with a vague gesture. ¡°Long story. Bottom line, I got a dragon.¡±


    ¡°Jury¡¯s still out on that one.¡± Melmarc took a deep breath. ¡°So how do you plan on keeping this a secret? If you bring it in the house, everyone will know. And you can¡¯t keep it out here in that box. Because that¡¯s just¡­ Well that¡¯s just cruel to your pet. And mom¡¯ll find out quickly.¡±


    ¡°Who said anything about keeping it a secret?¡±


    ¡°I thought that was the plan.¡±


    Ark stared at him as if that was the dumbest idea he¡¯d heard all day. Oddly enough, the creature stared up at Melmarc, and he could¡¯ve sworn its black starry eyes were given him the same look.


    Ark looked down at the creature, and it looked up at him. Melmarc could¡¯ve sworn they share a look before looking back at him.


    ¡°What gave you the idea that Nologia was a secret?¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°First, we¡¯re not calling it Nologia.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re not naming it after your favorite anime dragon. Second, you refused to tell anyone about it. And I know uncle D asked. You only told me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because I wanted to show you first.¡± Ark chuckled. ¡°I can¡¯t hide a dragon in our mom¡¯s garden, Mel. That¡¯s just impossible.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough. Then how are we doing this?¡±


    Ark bent over the creature, unfazed even though it had just bitten him mere moments ago, and picked it up from under its front limbs like a baby.


    It went with him quietly, staring at him with an expression that would¡¯ve been confusion on a human¡¯s face. But Melmarc knew better than to trust his ability to interpret the animal¡¯s expression.


    ¡°Into the box you go,¡± Ark cooed in a baby-ish voice as he dropped it back in the box. With that done he turned to Melmarc. ¡°Help me with that hoodie please.¡±


    Melmarc walked over to the grey hoodie and picked it up. It smelled citrus-y and stung the nose. But it was a nice smell.


    Freda did always smell nice


    He handed it over to Ark and found him holding up the box.


    Ark took the hoodie from him, balancing the box on one hand as he did. Holding the hoodie, he offered Melmarc the box.


    Melmarc hesitated before taking it. ¡°You sure I should be the one carrying it? It¡¯s your pet, after all.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Ark laughed. ¡°I think you¡¯re missing something there, little Mel. It¡¯s our familiar now.¡±


    With that, he wrapped the hoodie carelessly around the hand that had been bitten to hide whatever remaining blood stain there was and moved towards the house.


    Melmarc held up the box and found it heavier than he¡¯d expected. From the uncovered top he could see the animal. It had curled itself back up the way it had been when he¡¯d first seen it, eyes closed and breathing steady.


    Maybe it was a dragon, just a different kind.


    He turned and followed Ark.


    Ark stopped at the door and looked back over his shoulder. ¡°If Ninra asks what¡¯s in the box, say it''s nothing.¡±


    ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t want to keep it a secret.¡±


    Ark grinned. ¡°I don¡¯t. But it¡¯s going to drive her crazy not knowing. And that¡¯s going to be a lot of fun.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t even need to think about it. He and Ark had different definitions of fun. He read novels and Ark read comics. He played basketball and Ark played every other sport. He was friendly with Ninra every time she was home from college and Ark liked to drive her crazy.


    It was simply the dynamic.


    His only response to his brother¡¯s words was a shrug. As they went in, he didn¡¯t deny the fact that he did enjoy seeing Ark drive Ninra crazy sometimes.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    When they entered the house, the kitchen was empty. At some point Ninra must¡¯ve gone inside.


    The look of dismay on Ark¡¯s face showed Melmarc that he¡¯d really been looking forward to messing with her.


    There was a covered pot on the gas, and the light of the fire was gone. The lid was see-through and Melmarc caught the sight of reddish pasta inside.


    Was she going to leave the pot out until dinner?


    Their mom usually timed the cooking so that the food was ready around thirty minutes before dinner. Sometimes she would miss the mark and serve their plates when it was ready and still very hot. There were also odd occasions when she allowed them serve themselves.


    When uncle Dorthna was the only adult in the house, lunch and dinner were take-out. He would always buy more than enough for dinner so that it served as breakfast the next day. He wasn¡¯t incompetent, he just really liked take-outs.


    Dad never cooked.


    As they passed the living room, they found uncle Dorthna still lounging on the couch watching his show that just seemed to go on and on into the depths of more questionable dares.


    As if their presence rang some kind of alarm, uncle Dorthna looked back at them. ¡°What do you guys have inside the box?¡±


    There was something in his tone Melmarc couldn¡¯t place. His voice was calm and simple, normal, but there was an underlying note beneath it that he couldn¡¯t place.


    ¡°We got a new pet,¡± Ark said cheerily.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a snake,¡± Melmarc added hurriedly.


    Ark looked from uncle Dorthna to Melmarc and back, then nodded. ¡°Definitely not a snake. I learned my lesson last time. Scouts honor.¡±


    ¡°I seem to remember you refusing to join the scouts, Ark. Something about how they always like acting as if they¡¯re better than everyone.¡± Dorthna rubbed his jaw in thought. ¡°So what kind of pet is it?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes narrowed at their uncle.


    There it was. Uncle Dorthna was faking ignorance, pretending. He remembered that tone. It was the one he always used when their parents made decisions they didn¡¯t like and he pretended not to be aware of it.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly the same, those were usually more dramatic¡­ and obvious. This one was dialed way down. If the tone was a fire cracker, today it was a snapping finger.


    Ark looked at Melmarc, and Melmarc shrugged.


    ¡°You did say it wasn¡¯t a secret,¡± he told his brother.


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Ark¡¯s voice was a low murmur. ¡°But it¡¯s kind of hard now that he¡¯s sitting right there.¡±


    Ark put his hand inside the box and picked the creature up. When he revealed it, the look on Dorthna¡¯s face tightened.


    Ark held the creature up for Dorthna to see. ¡°I got a pet dragon.¡±


    Dorthna stared at it. Just stared. He didn¡¯t react or say anything. Silence was his response. In it the television sounded a little too loud.


    ¡°Uncle D?¡± Melmarc called.


    ¡°Yes, Mel.¡±


    ¡°We got a pet dragon.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna didn¡¯t take his eyes off the creature. Its eyes were opened now and they stared at each other.


    ¡°Not a dragon,¡± he said finally, running a hand through his hair. ¡°But you¡¯ve definitely got something there.¡±


    Ark deflated a little. ¡°Any idea what it is?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But I must warn you, your mom might be happy and your dad will be worried when they see it.¡±


    Melmarc winced. ¡°That bad?¡±


    Dorthna turned back to the television as if he¡¯d suddenly lost interest. ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine. Your mom¡¯s just more open minded than your dad. And she¡¯s always wanted a Guardian. It just bummed her out when she found out that they¡¯re nearly impossible to get.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Ark put the creature back in the box. ¡°You¡¯re saying it¡¯s possible that there might be another one of these out there.¡±


    ¡°Of course. You see it on TV from time to time. Dragon-Knight always goes into portals with her Guardian.¡±


    Ark smirked at Melmarc. ¡°Told you it was a dragon.¡±


    ¡°Not a dragon,¡± Dorthna corrected, and Melmarc smirked back. ¡°A Guardian. Big difference.¡±


    ¡°But you just said it¡¯s a Guardian, like Dragon-Knight¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°Like Dragon-Knight¡¯s. Key word there is ''like'', Ark.¡± Dorthna ran his hand through his hair again.


    He¡¯s worried, Melmarc realized.


    Dorthna always ran his hand through his hair when he was in a bind or was worried. It was one of his nervous ticks.


    ¡°Whatever it is,¡± Dorthna said, ¡°I¡¯d advise showing your mom first and getting her on your side if you want to keep it. If your dad sees it first, you might not get to keep it. He¡¯ll probably have it going face first into the next portal that turns up.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s a Guardian, but not a dragon,¡± Melmarc said, readjusting his hold under the weight of the box, ¡°that will mean that Guardians are like an entire species, and a dragon is like one race.¡±


    Dorthna raised a thumbs up and Melmarc continued.


    ¡°Which means this is another race.¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s thumbs up went higher and Melmarc¡¯s lips pursed in thought. Ark looked between him and their uncle.


    Melmarc thought about it.


    The fact that he didn¡¯t know much about guardians was a problem here. In fact, he knew different things about the different creatures that had ever made their way out of portals or had been captured on camera by the Gifted that worked for news and entertainment agencies, risking their lives to get live footage of Delvers doing their work during Chaos Runs.


    But this was the first time he was ever hearing the term Guardian being used.


    Accepting that he wouldn¡¯t be able to figure out what the creature might be, he gave a defeated shrug. ¡°So what is it?¡±


    Dorthna ignored his show to look at them once more and gave an honest smile. Melmarc didn¡¯t like how impish it looked.


    ¡°Now where¡¯s the fun in telling you?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound fair,¡± Melmarc complained. ¡°There¡¯s only one other kind in the public eye and we didn¡¯t even know it was called a Guardian until you just said it.¡±


    ¡°Yea,¡± Ark supported. ¡°It¡¯s going to be impossible to find out what it is.¡±


    Ark gave a thoughtful pause and Melmarc had a feeling he wouldn¡¯t like it.


    Ark grinned. ¡°Unless¡­¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Melmarc hissed.


    Ark chuckled. ¡°You haven¡¯t even heard what I have to say.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to. I heard your mind working, and I know it¡¯s not going to be a good idea.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Mel. The least you can do is hear me out.¡±


    ¡°He does have a point,¡± Dorthna said, without looking away from his show. ¡°The least you could do is hear him out.¡±


    Melmarc looked between the both of them. Uncle Dorthna was watching his show and Ark was smiling expectantly.


    ¡°Alright. What¡¯s your idea?¡±


    ¡°I say we ask Dragon-Knight.¡±


    Dorthna burst into laughter on the couch. It was loud and heavy. A full belly laugh. He held his side and rolled off the couch for dramatic effect.


    ¡°Mel was right,¡± he said, still laughing. ¡°You¡¯ve got the wildest ideas. And I love it.¡±


    It took a little time before Dorthna was done laughing. While they waited for their uncle, Ark held onto his grin, and his idea. Though, his grin was more on the sheepish side now.


    Dorthna picked himself up and sat back down on the couch. His laugh had become a chuckle and he wiped a tear from the edge of one eye with a single finger. ¡°It¡¯s times like this that I wish I had a brother¡­ or a sister.¡±


    Melmarc and Ark paused.


    This was a rare occurrence.


    Uncle Dorthna was fun, and they wouldn¡¯t give anything to change him. But he never talked much about himself, at least not on the things that mattered. This was the first time he was hinting at anything relating to an actual family situation.


    They called him uncle, but the position wasn¡¯t biological. He was more of a family friend that had been present since before they were born.


    But he would always be their uncle.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Dorthna said, ignoring his show once more. ¡°How about a little motivation?¡±


    Ark nodded vibrantly, and Melmarc couldn¡¯t deny he was curious. Dorthna didn¡¯t toss out motivations willy-nilly, and the little he did toss out were usually good. There was that one time he¡¯d given Ark an entire hundred-dollar bill when he¡¯d figured out how to pick a lock on his own.


    Or when he told me the name of his favorite skills after making me learn the names of the two rarest classes.


    Or when he taught Ark how to jump a fence quickly and quietly for getting the highest grade in his English class.


    Now that he thought about it, since they¡¯d known uncle Dorthna he hadn¡¯t motivated them with anything more than six rewards, combined. And most of what he motivated Ark with were criminally inclined. Even some of the achievements Ark had to make.


    Picking a lock. Jumping a fence. Conning a guy into buying a two-dollar pen for four dollars. That last one could be misconstrued for a sales skill, though.


    Melmarc was pulled from his thoughts by Ark¡¯s next words.


    ¡°And what are the conditions for this?¡±


    ¡°First, no asking Dragon-Knight. She''s not a bad guy, but she¡¯s more than likely to feed you to her Guardian than give you information about anything relating to it.¡± Dorthna turned his head up and his face scrunched up in thought. ¡°She¡¯ll probably try to buy it off you, too. And knowing her, it¡¯ll probably be for a good price. Anyway, leave Dragon-Knight out of this. Chances are you¡¯ll never get to meet her, so no real worry there.¡±


    ¡°Dad could get us to meet her,¡± Ark objected.


    ¡°No, he won¡¯t.¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s words allowed no argument. It was flat and final.


    ¡°But,¡± he continued. ¡°The chances of getting killed by a baby aren¡¯t high, but they are not zero. So, if you do ever run into Dragon-Knight, against all odds, don¡¯t bring up anything about a Guardian. Trust me, it¡¯s safer for everybody. As for your motivation, how about this. If you do manage to figure out what it is.¡± He raised a cautionary finger. ¡°Without asking your mom and dad. I¡¯ll tell you what I do with all the trash you keep giving me.¡±


    ¡°And why you keep collecting them,¡± Melmarc added quickly.


    Dorthna smiled fondly. ¡°And why I keep collecting them.¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not really that interested.¡±


    ¡°Well I am,¡± Melmarc interjected, then adjusted his hold on the box. Was it just him or was the box getting heavier?


    He looked down at the creature and found it still curled up with its eyes closed.


    ¡°So what do you say?¡±


    Melmarc looked up at his uncle and smiled. ¡°Deal.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Dorthna returned his attention to his show.


    Melmarc looked back at the creature, thought about what it could be, did a few mental historical, mythical math in his head.


    They only knew of one Guardian, which was a dragon. And from the way Dorthna spoke about Dragon-Knight¡¯s possible reaction to being asked about Guardians, it was safe to say they were very rare. It was the only way that justified why Dragon-Knight wouldn¡¯t want people asking questions about them. A secret was easy to keep if you were the only one that knew it.


    Then there was the second option. A dragon was a mythical creature. Rare and impossible as it was, it wasn¡¯t the only mythical creature existent in myths. There were centaurs, minotaur, krakens. And this was only to name a few.


    Clearly, he could eliminate a lot of the options.


    ¡°It can¡¯t be a kraken,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°Krakens belong in the water.¡±


    And it couldn¡¯t be a Loch ness monster because¡­ well, simply because. The Loch ness monster, for certain reasons, just never felt mythical to him. It was just too urban for him to consider it mythical. It was like big foot or a jabberwocky.


    He looked down at it again. It had scales but wasn¡¯t serpentine enough to be a basilisk. He hated to admit it but the closest mythical creature he knew it looked like was a dragon.


    Using that as an answer didn¡¯t sit well with him. A relative of a dragon maybe? A guivre wouldn¡¯t work since they were more serpent than dragon. Wyrms came next but they were also just as serpentine as guivres were meant to be.


    That left only one option, and he gave it even though he doubted the answer.


    ¡°It¡¯s a drake.¡±

 NINE: No Idea

    It was not a drake.


    Melmarc had returned his mind to the task of sorting through mythical creatures. The plan was to go through all of them. Once he was done with what the west had to offer, he would scrape through what the east had to offer.


    Ark had guessed a chupacabra for reasons unknown to Melmarc. If his brother had seen a picture of a chupacabra, he wouldn¡¯t have guessed it. The creature was more ugly-cat than wingless dragon.


    But uncle Dorthna had been contemplatively quiet that they¡¯d almost believed that the most insane guess was the right one. Melmarc had sighed in relief when it had been wrong. For some reason, learning the reason for their uncle¡¯s trash collection with that as the answer just felt very anti-climactic.


    Before they went to their room with their new pet, as Ark had put it, uncle Dorthn had added a new clause.


    ¡°Oh, just the way the chances of being killed by a baby are exponentially low but not zero,¡± he¡¯d said. ¡°There is another condition on this one.¡±


    Ark and Melmarc stopped at the door to their room.


    ¡°What¡¯s this thing about death by babies?¡± Ark had asked, genuinely curious.


    Melmarc had more important curiosities than that. ¡°What¡¯s the third condition?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ the chances of it happening are very low.¡± Dorthna¡¯s voice was disbelievingly strained. It sounded like he was hinting at something but didn¡¯t want them to put too much stock in it.


    It was like hinting at a birthday present you weren¡¯t entirely sure you could get for a friend.


    ¡°Uncle D,¡± Melmarc pressed. ¡°What¡¯s the condition.¡±


    Dorthna scratched his jaw thoughtfully. How he managed to look contemplative and entertained by his show at the same time was almost impressive. Finally, he let up.


    ¡°Alright. Here¡¯s how I¡¯m going to put it. You¡¯re both smart kids so it shouldn¡¯t be too difficult to understand. I¡¯m not going to tell you what the third condition is but¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not fair.¡±


    Dorthna raised a finger to stop Ark. ¡°But, I will tell you this. If you find out about what kind of creature it is through the third condition, which you will both know it was if it happens, then you also don¡¯t get a reward. Deal?¡±


    The weight of the box was pressing down on Melmarc so he moved it to Ark who took it comfortably.


    ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is that there¡¯s a mystery third way of finding out, and if we stumble on it somehow, then we don¡¯t get to know why you collect things from us.¡±


    Dorthna nodded.


    Melmarc thought about it. The only condition that was meant to seem very impossible was Dragon-Knight telling them. Actually, telling them wasn¡¯t what seemed impossible, meeting her was what seemed impossible.


    Ark had claimed their dad could help, but Melmarc knew that was pushing it. Their dad was an important government Delver, but Dragon-Knight was in an entirely different league. She walked around with a literal freaking dragon. And the Delver fan sites ranked her among the top ten Gifted in the entire world.


    ¡°This mystery way of finding out, why?¡± he asked. ¡°If it¡¯s a mystery way you can¡¯t even tell us, shouldn¡¯t learning through it be worthy of learning your secret?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not really a secret, Mel. I just haven¡¯t told you. And no. This third mystery method is entirely¡­ nope, that¡¯s going into territories that will help you figure it out.¡± Dorthna¡¯s face scrunched up in thought again. He was more like their mother and less like their father, always full of expressions. ¡°All I can say is that the mystery method has nothing to do with hard work or any skill on your part, so learning through that method would just be you guys being spoon-fed the answer. So it won¡¯t count.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it again and couldn¡¯t figure out how it was going to work. If he removed the other conditions of being told by their parents or Dragon-Knight, he couldn¡¯t find any other way that met the criteria for the mystery condition.


    The only thing I can think about is if the thing tells us itself. He paused, looked at Ark, specifically the box in his hand. It can¡¯t be that, right? Dragon-Knight¡¯s dragon can¡¯t talk¡­ Right?


    ¡°Alright,¡± Melmarc concluded finally. ¡°We¡¯ve got a deal.¡±


    And hopefully that thing won¡¯t start talking in our sleep.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­..


    Their mom didn¡¯t come out of her room that night. Not for dinner, and not for a late night snack. Melmarc and Ark had stayed up late even if it was a school night, trying to figure out what their new pet was.


    The internet had a wide variety of suggestions. A dragon and a drake were the most common answers they got when they put in the creature¡¯s description. There were a few suggestions that it was a Leshrac which looked like a mix between a goat and an alpaca.


    Melmarc had never heard of it before so he moved on from that pretty quickly.


    They considered asking live forums. It would be a great way of getting more heads in on the project. With enough people trying to figure it out, there was no way they wouldn¡¯t get more accurate suggestions.


    But Ark was quick to object to it.


    ¡°Everyone only knows about one guardian,¡± he said, holding their pet up over him like a baby while he laid on his bed. ¡°And they don¡¯t even know it¡¯s a guardian. I don¡¯t think we want to be asking weird people on the internet to help us figure it out. First they¡¯ll try figuring out what it could be, then they¡¯ll try figuring out who we are and what we have. Too creepy.¡±


    So the internet idea was a bust.


    They didn¡¯t see their mom until the next day.


    Dawn had broken and the roosters had crowed their lungs out when they saw her.


    They had bathed, brushed and were dressed for school. Melmarc had his bag in his usual one handed carry. Ark¡¯s bag was literally one handed, like those suitcases new employees who liked to commute tended to wear. He wore it diagonally, so that it crossed over from his right shoulder to his left hip.


    Melmarc had watched him wrap Chioma¡¯s hoodie carefully before putting it in his bag with an odd expression.


    They met their mom when they stepped out of their room. She stood in the living room, dressed in black. She wore a fit top and pants, with combat boots Melmarc knew were designed to muffle the sound of footsteps. It was her favorite one.


    ¡°Hi kids,¡± she said with a sweet smile when she saw them.


    Their answer was instinctual, not that they would¡¯ve given any other. ¡°Hi mom.¡±


    ¡°Your uncle Dorthna over here was just telling me about how you¡¯ve got a new pet.¡±


    They looked around the living room and didn¡¯t see their uncle Dorthna.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± their mom continued, walking over to them. ¡°It¡¯s quite literally my first task before I¡¯m deployed. I get to see what you guys have and take the sole decision of if your father¡¯s letting you keep it or not.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t trust her smile. It was too happy, too satisfied with itself.


    ¡°She¡¯s enjoying this,¡± Ark said. To her he added: ¡°You¡¯re enjoying this.¡±


    Their mom chuckled easily. ¡°Uhuh.¡± She ruffled his hair as she passed them and pushed the door to their room open. ¡°Now let¡¯s see what you have in there.¡±


    ¡°I wanna see, too!¡± Ninra rushed down the stairs, most likely from her room upstairs. ¡°They didn¡¯t let me see it when they got it.¡±


    ¡°Because you won¡¯t be interested,¡± Ark said, rushing to close the room door behind them.


    Ninra barreled into the door with enough force to resist Ark¡¯s hold. For a moment Melmarc watched his brother bounce on the door.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be mean to your sister.¡± Their mom wasn¡¯t looking. It was an off-hand comment made as she stared around their room.


    The creature was nowhere in sight. Unsurprising since it was back in its cardboard box hidden under the bed.


    ¡°Your uncle made it sound like a magical creature.¡± She stepped deeper into the room and looked around. In her boots her steps were without sound. ¡°I don¡¯t sense any magic or mana. Is it a stealth type?¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve been happy to let her know that he had no idea, but knew she wasn¡¯t talking to him. Soliloquy was one of her habits. Their dad said that she couldn¡¯t think in her head to save her life during a stealth mission.


    She walked around to the other side of the bed as Ark¡¯s struggle with Ninra over the door ended. Their sister stumbled in, shot Ark a glare, adjusted herself, and joined them.


    Their mom knelt beside Ark¡¯s bed and looked under it. ¡°Did you guys hide it?¡±


    ¡°Under Mel¡¯s bed,¡± Ark offered.


    Melmarc turned to him, befuddled. ¡°I thought we agreed we were going to keep it under yours?¡±


    ¡°You did.¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°But I figured, I spent the whole day playing with it yesterday, and since it¡¯s going to be our pet, and by our,¡± he gave Ninra a pointed look, ¡°I mean Mel and I, I figured it has to spend some time with you in some way.¡±


    Their mother was kneeling beside Melmarc¡¯s bed now. She reached under it and pulled out the cardboard box they kept the creature in.


    ¡°What did you guys wrap it in?¡± she stared inside the box. ¡°And why did you wrap it all up? I can¡¯t even see anything.¡±


    She picked it out of the box and Melmarc saw that it had been wrapped like a burrito. A really fat burrito. It was wrapped in a green¡­


    ¡°Is that my shirt?¡± His jaw dropped. ¡°Please tell me that¡¯s not my shirt, Ark. Tell me you didn¡¯t wrap it in my green shirt.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s for your sake, Mel,¡± Ark answered easily. ¡°You won¡¯t spend time with it so how¡¯s it going to get used to you. I read somewhere that if you put your worn shirt in your puppy¡¯s bed when it sleeps it gets used to your smell and loves you more.¡±


    ¡°But I liked that shirt. And it¡¯s not a puppy.¡±


    Their mother walked up to them, holding the creature up. ¡°Well it definitely isn¡¯t a puppy.¡±


    She didn¡¯t look very happy. But at least she didn¡¯t look mad. So the chances of them keeping it were fifty-fifty.


    She looked at Ark. ¡°Where did you get this?¡±


    ¡°Why me?¡± Ark answered with mock hurt. ¡°It¡¯s like you¡¯re so sure I¡¯m the one that brought it home. It could¡¯ve easily been Mel.¡±


    Melmarc looked at him. ¡°Really?¡±


    Ark smiled easily.


    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to throw you under the bus or anything,¡± he explained. ¡°I¡¯m just saying that when shit like this happens¡ª¡±


    ¡°Language,¡± their mother cautioned.


    ¡°When stuff like this happens,¡± Ark corrected, ¡°everyone just assumes it¡¯s me.¡±


    Ninra walked up beside them to get a closer look at the creature. It was still wrapped like a burrito so that only the front of its face was showing.


    When did he even get the time to wrap it up? And what was I doing that I didn¡¯t see him using my shirt?


    ¡°Looks kinda cute,¡± Ninra concluded. ¡°Anyway, people always assume it¡¯s you because it¡¯s you. Everyone knows Mel hates animals and wouldn¡¯t bring one home, talk less of some stray.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t necessarily call it a stray.¡± Their mom was unwrapping it from the swaddle. ¡°Lost? Definitely, but not a stray.¡±


    She dropped Melmarc¡¯s shirt on his bed and held the creature up. It stared down at her with starry eyes, polished marbles stained in dots of white like the night sky.


    ¡°Wait, that looks like a¡­¡± Ninra frowned, then turned to Ark. ¡°Wasn¡¯t there a Chaos run last week when the Salnug Delvers failed to clear that portal? Why would you go near a portal during a chaos run?¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t go near any portal during a Chaos run,¡± their mom said absently. She was turning the creature one way and the other.


    Melmarc was worried it would bite her at some point. For now, it just looked down at her like she was some weird, oddly calm anomaly.


    ¡°Chaos runs are the most protected portals you can find,¡± she continued. ¡°When a portal opens, the government gets access to it and picks a company of its choice to handle it, and the company is left to do it however they like. As long as it¡¯s within the law. If they fail, we get a Chaos run where monsters start flooding out. Before that happens, we get a brief period of time to prepare.¡±


    ¡°During that time the government sets up a perimeter,¡± Melmarc jumped in, and his mother let him, still studying their pet. ¡°They cordon off a wide stretch of the area, deploy some of their own Delvers and conscript Delvers from other companies, depending on the portal rank. Then they wait. It¡¯s not unheard of for monsters to slip through here and there, but it¡¯s very rare. But it¡¯s impossible for normal people to slip into the cordoned area.¡±


    ¡°So this one slipped through?¡± Ninra asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s my best guess.¡± Their mother placed the creature on Melmarc¡¯s bed, specifically on his green shirt, and started wrapping it back up.


    ¡°Mom!¡± he whined.


    She looked back at him. ¡°What? Your brother¡¯s right. We all know you won¡¯t play with it, but it¡¯s also your pet, so it has to get used to you somehow.¡±


    Melmarc let out a defeated sigh but Ark perked up.


    ¡°Does that mean we get to keep it?¡± Ark asked, excited.


    Ninra stepped in front of him. ¡°Please say no, mom. That¡¯ll teach him not to bring home random animals.¡±


    Their mom chuckled as she finished wrapping the creature up. ¡°Do you even know what this is?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ark answered. ¡°But don¡¯t tell us.¡±


    She cocked a quizzical brow at him.


    ¡°Uncle Dorthna said he¡¯d tell us something fun if we find out on our own,¡± Melmarc explained. ¡°But we don¡¯t win if you, dad, or Dragon-Knight tells us.¡±


    This time their mom laughed.


    ¡°You have a higher chance of being killed by a baby than running into Dragon-Knight.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s with you guys and being killed by babies? Are you sure Uncle D¡¯s not some long lost brother of yours? Or was there a portal of murderous babies no one found out about?¡±


    ¡°Portal of murderous babies,¡± their mom nodded. ¡°We went in with Dragon-Knight and a few others because the portal was A-rank.¡± She chuckled. ¡°I¡¯d never seen your uncle so terrified in my life.¡±


    ¡°That said,¡± she placed the creature back in the box and slid it back under the bed. ¡°Next time you want to use your brother¡¯s things for questionable¡ªeven if good¡ªreasons, ask for permission first, Ark.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mom.¡±


    Ark didn¡¯t look in the least bit chastised. Not that Melmarc had wanted him to be.


    ¡°So do we get to keep it?¡±


    Their mother got up smiling. ¡°It¡¯s going to give your father an aneurysm when he comes back in the weekend, but definitely. Why not?¡±


    Ark gave a fist pump in the air. ¡°Yes!¡±


    Their mom was smiling fondly at them now.


    ¡°Alright, alright. That¡¯s enough of that.¡± She walked up to Melmarc and smoothed his hair out. It changed the way he¡¯d dressed it but he didn¡¯t complain.


    She looked him in the eye, her green meeting his hazel. ¡°Be good in school, okay. And stay away from bullies. Let¡¯s work with your brother to keep him out of fights.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, and she kissed him on the head. She wasn¡¯t very tall, and at sixteen he was her height so he had to tilt his head forward to make it easier for her.


    She walked over to Ark and scattered his hair some more. ¡°Stay out of fights.¡±


    Ark grinned at her. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious, Ark,¡± she warned, though she was still smiling. ¡°I know it¡¯s a condition due to what happened with the Player, but you¡¯ve got to control it. You can¡¯t go around beating up everybody that looks at Mel sideways.¡±


    ¡°I only beat the bullies back then,¡± Ark complained. ¡°If you¡¯re going to hit someone, you have to be ready to be hit back.¡±


    Melmarc looked between the both of them. ¡°Why do you guys sound like I have bullies? Like it¡¯s a constant thing? It was just three times.¡±


    All three of them gave him a flat look.


    He threw his hands up. ¡°I swear I don¡¯t have bullies.¡±


    ¡°You got bullied three times, Mel,¡± Ninra said. ¡°That¡¯s you having bullies. If Ark wasn¡¯t a walking grenade, you¡¯d be bullied more.¡±


    ¡°No, I got into two fights that I couldn¡¯t win. The first one was me being bullied and I¡¯ll take that one. But the other two were different. Eroms was being picked on in one of them so I had to step in, and Delano had a bit of an issue in the second one.¡±


    Ark scratched above his lip with a finger in thought. He was clearly thinking about all three since he¡¯d been the one to give the bullies a beating. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°See? I¡¯m not being bullied.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear.¡± Their mother walked past them. ¡°So remember, Mel, be good. Ark, no fighting. And you.¡± She stopped in front of their sister.


    Ninra beamed up at their mother. She¡¯d gotten their mom¡¯s looks, but hadn¡¯t really gotten any of their parents¡¯ height. Melmarc wouldn¡¯t say she was short, but she was definitely the shortest in the house.


    Their mom¡¯s lips pursed in thought. ¡°When¡¯s school resuming?¡±


    Ninra¡¯s mouth fell. ¡°You sound like you¡¯re already trying to get rid of me. I just came back last week.¡±


    Everyone laughed at that. Their mom gave her a kiss on the cheek before walking out the door.


    ¡°I am,¡± she called over her shoulder. ¡°Go back to school, Nin.¡±


    Ninra followed after her with a few words of complaint. There was something about not being appreciated for her pasta skills, and another about calling a children¡¯s strike.


    Alone in the room, Ark looked at Melmarc and said, ¡°That went well.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. While their mom had been mildly surprised at the sight of the creature, her willingness to keep it meant it either wouldn¡¯t be too dangerous, whatever it was, or there were benefits to keeping it.


    Either way, they got a pet. A magical one.


    ¡°Now we¡¯ve just got to name it,¡± he pointed out, adding, when Ark wanted to speak: ¡°We are not naming it Nologia or any variation of comic book or anime names.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I was going to say that we also have to figure out what it eats." Ark shrugged. "Because I¡¯ve got no idea.¡±

 TEN: Ranks

    Classes today were not necessarily interesting to Melmarc.


    There was a high chance it wasn¡¯t the fault of the classes in and of themselves but his inability to concentrate. He kept his head on his desk during recess and stared at Gilian, a classmate of his that sat by the window.


    Their classroom was upstairs, so the window seats gave good buffs of fresh air.


    Must be good sitting by the window, he thought, then turned his head downward and stared at the ground. It was simple marble flooring with white streaks designed to look like cracks. They were not cracks, though, he¡¯d checked already, long ago when he¡¯d started school. But they always looked so real.


    As recess came to a fast end, his mind continued to be drawn in a single direction. For him, it was the wrong direction.


    What does he do with the trash?


    He knew he needed to move his mind towards his new pet currently swaddled under his bed in his shirt, but for some reason his concentration always pulled away from it. The answer to the question of what the creature was didn¡¯t seem very impossible to figure out.


    All he had to do was follow the logic of mythical creatures and he was sure he would find a clue.


    The portals were often known to hold different kinds of creatures. And most of the time, those that didn¡¯t look like sinful abominations of mixed monstrosities often looked like creatures from myths and fairytales.


    Just last year there¡¯d been a Chaos run where the creatures that had come out had been reported to be fairies. Actual fairies. They were tiny with gold dusted wings that let out fairy dust as they flapped, quick as dragonflies. They wrapped themselves in leaves that served as their garments and spoke with voices that sounded like the tinkles of glass.


    But they weren¡¯t necessarily like fairies in the stories. For example, they didn¡¯t have beautiful faces to look at. Someone had somehow gotten a picture of one of the dead fairies and posted it online. While humanoid, they had the heads of piranhas, so there was that.


    There were also reports that the fairy dusts that fell from their wings had hallucinogenic properties.


    One of the videos from a few of the news channels that employed Gifted to go into such chaotic situations and get footage for the media had captured a Delver clawing out his own face when the dust had gotten on him.


    It had been a grotesque scene, and one of Delano¡¯s favorite scenes.


    The bell rang, bringing recess to an end. It met Melmarc still thinking of fairy dusts and Uncle Dorthna¡¯s trash obsession.


    It can¡¯t be related to his powers, right?


    Ark speculated that it was either just an odd obsession, nothing more, a game to keep him as an entertaining uncle, or something related to his powers. They knew he quit Delving but not why.


    That was another mystery no one was willing to share with them. Ark was a firm believer that their uncle had somehow lost his powers. Which, in Melmarc¡¯s opinion, was vastly incorrect. Since the first Gifted, there had never been any record of a Gifted losing their power.


    Skills were mana based. All of them. Even the Power classes that got skills that acted to enhance their physical attributes multiple folds. No skill was without mana.


    And only the gifted had mana, so taking trash from them wouldn¡¯t do anything for their uncle in the way of skill re-acquisition.


    With the rest of his classmates trooping back in with the residual spirit of recess yet to die out, the class grew noisy.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t react much. He returned a wave or two and a greeting here and there. There wasn¡¯t much else to it. He wasn¡¯t a pariah or a loner, at least he didn¡¯t think of himself as the latter. He just simply liked to do what he had to do when he had to do it.


    He rested his jaw on his desk and watched the class as everyone trooped in.


    Delano and Eroms were in the same class, which was separate from his own and he only got to see much of them during the second recess. It was longer and more fulfilling.


    There was also gym class, which was a combined class, and the occasional once in a while when Delano was feeling extra rebellious and would sneak into his class.


    The silence died off as their teacher, Ms. Pentint, walked in. She was a chubby lady with large glasses and always held her hair up in a bun. The lens of her glasses were so thick that one of the mysteries of the school was what the color of her eyes were.


    A more notable part of Ms. Pentint was how strict she was. She wasn¡¯t a cruel teacher by any standard of the word, merely a strict one. All the rules had to be followed to the letter. Any student she caught breaking any of them would be given the specific punishment for breaking the rule.


    Ever since her ¡®rumored¡¯ relationship with Mr. Trald, she¡¯d loosened up a bit. Some students got away with a few things, and she let a few others slide in her class.


    Melmarc raised his head up and sat properly. No matter how loosened up she was, she still remained a stickler for good posture.


    Like most of his other classes, paying attention proved difficult. Ms. Petint taught business studies, and Melmarc couldn¡¯t bring himself to focus on lefts and rights of how a business¡¯ balance sheets were meant to be managed.


    Instead, he crossed off more possibilities in his head. He stared ahead, hoping Ms. Petint wouldn¡¯t notice his lack of focus. Ark thought their uncle had lost his skills but there were evidences that stood contrary.


    You can¡¯t make things move on their own without magic, after all, he thought, keeping his eyes on the general direction of their teacher.


    Besides, he doubted his parents would allow someone that wasn¡¯t gifted ¡®baby-sit¡¯. There had been that one time when Uncle Dorthna had been a day late. Ark had suggested a regular baby sitter, a girl Melmarc had known his brother was crushing on.


    Their mom had personally taken them to Mr. Ilya¡¯s place instead.


    Uncle Dorthna had picked them up when he¡¯d arrived. Melmarc had been eight years old then.


    At the time Melmarc and his siblings had just assumed their parents wouldn¡¯t trust their care into the hands of anyone who wasn¡¯t Gifted.


    In the end he was left with no answers at all.


    The skills in the world were too many, and the classes were the same. People had similar skills sometimes but the way they used it made them different. For instance, two Gifted could have fire magic but one would have orange flames and the other would have blue.


    And classes, though fewer than skills, could still be different. For instance, Dark-Mist had been a rogue class, but he was the only Rogue class that used mist. Melmarc didn¡¯t even know what the mist did.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Guessing why Uncle Dorthna took trash was impossible, and once again, not for the first time in his life, he accepted his defeat. He would never figure it out.


    Second recess was a thirty minutes long period. Students used the first recess for basic conversations, though most of them left their classes to do only God knew what. The second recess, however, was when they used the cafeteria, ate, and did whatever they could. It was a chance to use the school¡¯s sports facilities without being part of any of the sports clubs.


    Melmarc spent it with Eroms and Delano.


    They sat in the cafeteria, the only three members of a single table. Melmarc opted for a plate of rice, a juice box, and an apple.


    ¡°I swear I could see her hurrying on over when she saw me,¡± Delano was saying as he ate.


    They had waited for ten minutes before joining the queue simply because Delano didn¡¯t want the head lunch lady to serve him.


    Melmarc mixed his food with a plastic spoon, not necessarily hungry.


    ¡°For the last time, Delano. The lunch lady isn¡¯t out to get you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never had a sworn nemesis so you wouldn¡¯t know.¡± Delano shoved a fork of salad in his mouth.


    Eroms bit into a sandwich he¡¯d brought from home. ¡°The lunch lady is not your sworn nemesis, D.¡±


    Even seated, Eroms was considerably taller than the rest of them.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Delano said, pushing the topic of conversation. ¡°What was so important that Ark was calling you yesterday? Did he finally get a class? Was it an unranked one?¡±


    Melmarc poked his food with his spoon. ¡°Nope. He just had something to show me.¡±


    Eroms took the last bite of his sandwich. Still chewing, he asked, ¡°What¡¯s an unranked class?¡±


    Delano poked him in the side. ¡°Don¡¯t eat with your mouthful, big guy.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s don¡¯t talk with your mouthful.¡± Melmarc took a bite of his lunch.


    ¡°Is anyone going to tell me what an unranked class is?¡± Eroms asked. ¡°Or are we going to let Delano keep teaching me wrong food etiquette.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not wrong food etiquette. And it¡¯s the thought that counts.¡±


    Unlike Melmarc and Delano, Eroms was the friend with the littlest interest in the Gifted. Every child wanted to be gifted. If not for the money or the fame, then it was for the simple ability to do amazing things. Create fire out of nothing. Fly. Move a boulder like it weighed nothing.


    Every child wanted to be Gifted because it was cool, despite how little the number of people that got to be Gifted was. But the media always made it seem like anyone could be. Just in the country there were over ten thousand known and registered Gifted. So there was always one gifted or the other with one class or the other in your face whenever you turned on the news or opened the internet.


    It made people forget that the actual number was over ten thousand known and registered gifted in a country of over a hundred million people. And out of the ten thousand, only about a thousand were Delvers.


    ¡°Hey, Marc,¡± Delano said. ¡°Do you want to do the honors of explaining to our fine friend over here, or should I?¡±


    Melmarc made a gesture with his plastic spoon, giving his friend the honors, and Delano rubbed his hands together like someone about to do something grand.


    ¡°Classes are divided into seven major ranks, my fa¡ªtall friend.¡± He smiled at Eroms who had paused his meal to listen. ¡°Now the rankings are simple. We¡¯ve got F being the lowest, all the way to double S, which is the highest. There are only two known SS-rank Gifted in the world and none of them are from our country.¡±


    Eroms counted his fingers. ¡°Seven ranks, so F, E, D, C, B, A, S, and SS. Even my younger cousin knows that, and he¡¯s two. What¡¯s an unranked class?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re getting there, don¡¯t rush me. You don¡¯t just jump into the game, you start with a kiss, then some¡ª¡±


    Melmarc winced. ¡°Please no sex references at lunch, D. I¡¯ll lose my appetite.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you have any appetite. You¡¯ve been poking your food since you got it. But okay. Where was I, Eroms?¡±


    ¡°You were about to talk about sex instead of what an unranked class is.¡±


    ¡°Alright, before I get there, you know what a class growth potential is?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s how strong your class can be. If you get an F-rank class with an S-rank potential, then it can grow quickly. But that¡¯s unheard of.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, most people who get less than a C-rank usually get a similar growth potential. That¡¯s why a lot of Gifted aren¡¯t Delvers. There are Delving companies that won¡¯t employ anything less than a C-rank.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that discrimination?¡± Eroms asked.


    Melmarc disagreed.


    ¡°Not really. There are very few and rare E-rank portals that open up, so sending an F-rank into a D rank gate or a C rank gate is more like suicide.¡±


    Delano pointed his plastic fork at him. ¡°Exactly, there¡¯s no point wasting money on people who are just going to end up being cannon fodder. C-rank and above is where the money really is. Most of the Gifted that aren¡¯t Delvers mostly awakened less than C-rank.¡±


    Eroms shrugged. ¡°Sounds kind of unfair to me.¡±


    ¡°Nope, my good friend. Unfair is meeting the most beautiful girl in the world and finding out that not only is she older than you, but that she¡¯s also your friend¡¯s sister so you can¡¯t make a move on her.¡±


    Melmarc sighed.


    ¡°Even if Ninra wasn¡¯t my sister, you still can¡¯t date her. You¡¯re just sixteen, and she¡¯s twenty. It¡¯ll be statutory rape.¡±


    ¡°Still don¡¯t know what an unranked class is over here.¡±


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°In summary, what Delano¡¯s trying to get to, is that unranked classes don¡¯t really fall under any of the rankings. They are literally ¡®Unranked¡¯. According to the records, your class comes after you¡¯ve gotten a pick of your skills.¡±


    ¡°Which you don¡¯t have to do immediately.¡± Delano picked up Melmarc¡¯s apple and took a bite. ¡°I heard that if you wait longer, you get offered new skills, different skills. If you started with two skills, you could probably get a total of eight different skills in total to choose from if you wait for, like, a week or two.¡±


    Melmarc casually reached out and took his apple from Delano and placed it back on his food tray. He kept the part Delano had bitten into facing away from him.


    ¡°Everyone gets only two skills so waiting just gives you a chance of more options. You get two skills which then unlocks the class. You get to pick the skills but the skills pick your class. As for the unranked class, it¡¯s more of a double-edged sword.¡±


    ¡°But is there a way to pick it?¡± Eroms asked.


    ¡°None that anyone knows of,¡± Delano answered. ¡°They aren¡¯t that popular. And the Gifted that have it say they have no idea how to get it. Even the forums don¡¯t know, and those guys speculate a lot. They even know the skill combinations required to get the Barista class. Which is a useless class, because who wants to get magical powers that can only make really sweet coffee.¡±


    ¡°The problem with the unranked classes is the growth potential.¡± Melmarc moved the conversation along. ¡°With an A-rank class, even if your growth potential is F-rank, at least you know you¡¯re A-class. If you¡¯re B-rank with an A rank growth potential, then you know you might be able to get to S-rank one day.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Delano laughed. ¡°Good luck with that. Do you know how hard it is to get to S-rank? It took Dragon-Knight ten years to get to S-rank, and he started as a B-rank with an A-rank growth potential.¡±


    Eroms looked between the both of them. ¡°So an Unranked class doesn¡¯t mean very strong. It just means we don¡¯t know the rank?¡±


    ¡°Correct, my good friend.¡±


    Delano reached for Melmarc¡¯s apple again and Melmarc smacked his hand. Delano glared at him but turned back to Eroms.


    ¡°So with the Unranked class, everyone always looks out for the growth potential. The higher the growth potential, the more willing companies are to hire you.¡±


    Eroms thought about it. It was in the look in his eyes, and the way his lips moved.


    ¡°What of an Unranked growth potential?¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t exist.¡± Delano and Melmarc said easily.


    ¡°The growth potential¡¯s always ranked,¡± Delano said. ¡°There¡¯s no Gifted with an Unranked potential.¡±


    Eroms looked skeptical. ¡°None?¡±


    ¡°None.¡±


    Eroms made a sound that could¡¯ve meant anything then dipped his hand into his brown food bag and brought out another sandwich. He didn¡¯t eat it immediately, though. He just sat there, sandwich in hand, silent.


    After a while he shrugged and took a bite.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Delano picked the conversation back up. ¡°What did Ark show you?¡±


    Melmarc picked up his apple and bit into it. He stared at it for a while before dropping it back. He really didn¡¯t have any appetite today. ¡°He got a new pet.¡±


    Delano laughed. ¡°Tell me it was another snake. Oh, please say it was another snake.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t another snake.¡±


    ¡°Spoilsport.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a spoilsport,¡± Melmarc argued.


    ¡°You kinda are,¡± Eroms said. ¡°You kinda worry a lot. The first time I gave you an apple from the lunch lady, you didn¡¯t eat it. You kept asking where I got it.¡±


    ¡°Because you don¡¯t bring apples to school. I¡¯ve known you for four years, and no apples. Not even one.¡±


    ¡°Then,¡± Eroms continued, ¡°when I told you it was from the lunch lady, you asked why she gave me an apple.¡±


    ¡°The lunch lady doesn¡¯t just give people apples. And we hadn¡¯t even been to the cafeteria that day. She just found you and gave you apples for no reason. It¡¯s kind of suspicious.¡±


    ¡°She was being nice.¡±


    Delano banged the table with a plastic spoon to get their attention. In the large cafeteria, with students making all the noise they could, it wasn¡¯t very loud. But it got their attention.


    He looked pointedly between the both of them and said, ¡°Now that I have your attention, what kind of animal was it?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Haven¡¯t figured that one out yet.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right? Is it a dog or a cat or an alligator or an iguana? We already know it¡¯s not a snake so what is¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s magical so we don¡¯t know. Something called a Guardian.¡±


    He had intended for the words to come out as nonchalant so it wouldn¡¯t draw too much interest from his friends, but the looks on their faces told him he¡¯d failed.


    Eroms was the first to break the silence.


    ¡°What¡¯s a Guardian?¡±

 ELEVEN: Ophanim

    The rest of the school day went by quickly.


    Melmarc ran into Ark on two uneventful occasions. The first was on his way back to class from the cafeteria. Being a year older than him and a class above, their circles rarely clashed.


    They exchanged a few words when they met, and that was it.


    Ark asked what he was doing after school and he said he wasn¡¯t sure, which was true. He was torn between waiting behind to use the basketball court after the basketball team was done with it and going to the town library.


    The second time was after school when he stopped by to watch Ark in football practice. Ark tried out for a new club activity every semester. It made him quite versatile. There was scarcely a sport offered at their school that he couldn¡¯t play and hadn¡¯t tried.


    This semester football was his sport of choice.


    Eroms and Delano were with Melmarc for most of it. They were mostly quiet, silenced since they¡¯d learned of the Guardian under Melmarc¡¯s bed.


    ¡°So where we headed?¡± Delano asked as they left the bleachers and, ultimately, the school.


    ¡°Town library,¡± Melmarc answered.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Trying to figure out what exactly my brother¡¯s keeping in the house.¡±


    Eroms walked alongside them with his thinking face on. ¡°Your mom¡¯s a Delver, right?¡± he asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯s already seen it.¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°So why are you still worried about what it is?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not worried about it. I just don¡¯t like not knowing.¡±


    Melmarc took a different turn from their normal route outside the school and the others followed.


    ¡°Looks like we aren¡¯t going home soon,¡± Delano commented off-handedly.


    ¡°Sorry. We¡¯ll be on our way soon. I just want to stop by the town library and look up some things.¡± Melmarc could almost see the steam coming out of his own mouth.


    Winter was just around the corner, and the temperature was already dropping. Before he knew it, the first snow would fall, and winter would begin proper.


    He wondered if Guardians hibernated. Like bears.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Delano scratched an itch under his jaw. ¡°You do know that we¡¯ve got a pretty big library in school, right?¡±


    Melmarc knew, and he¡¯d already read most of the books there over the years. He knew what his school library had.


    Delano sighed. ¡°Let me guess. They don¡¯t have what you¡¯re looking for.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°And what are you looking for?¡± Eroms asked.


    Today he had no snack to satisfy himself with on the road, nothing to share or chew. He walked beside them in his towering height and paid attention to the road ahead.


    Kinda odd seeing him with nothing to eat on the road, Melmarc thought. Their friend was usually always eating something. If it wasn¡¯t a gift from the lunch lady, it was an excess from home.


    ¡°Mythical creatures,¡± Melmarc answered.


    His friends nodded as if it made a lot of sense. After that, they walked in relative silence. Delano talked about a few of the things he¡¯d heard in school, which student had asked which student out, what rumors were gaining popularity.


    They listened along the way, exchanged their opinions on whatever mundane subject was shared. At some point, the conversation moved to movies and comic books.


    Melmarc was more of a novel reader than a movie watcher or comic book enthusiast so he had very little to share in the conversation. So he listened to them talk and thought of different possibilities to Ark¡¯s pet.


    When he was done with all the possible options, he realized that while he knew a lot about Western mythical creatures, he knew nothing about any other region''s. Maybe he would start with updating his knowledge on mythical creatures from other regions.


    They were close to the library when Delano bumped him on the shoulder.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a library card, do you?¡± he said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    Eroms looked between the both of them. ¡°Do we need library cards to use the library?¡±


    Delano looked up at Eroms. ¡°Of course we do. That¡¯s why it¡¯s called a library card. You need library cards to use any library.¡±


    He was smiling. It was a smile Eroms would usually take note of, but for some reason he didn¡¯t today.


    ¡°But we use the school library without a library card.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because we¡¯re students. Our student ID serves as our library card.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯re members of the town.¡± Eroms scratched his head. He wasn¡¯t slow, but sometimes he did act like it. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean we don¡¯t need cards.¡±


    Delano shrugged and held out his hand. ¡°Do you have a town ID I don¡¯t know about?¡±


    Eroms reached into his bag and brought out a card. He placed it in Delano¡¯s hand, confused.


    Delano looked down at the card, then up at their friend. He repeated the action twice, each time a worried expression grew on his face.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ Marc.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    Delano held the card up for him to see. ¡°Please tell me I¡¯m not the only one that¡¯s never heard of a town ID.¡±


    In his hand was a green card with Eroms face on it. The picture looked like it had been taken over two years ago, when their friend¡¯s face was more on the chubby side than it was now.


    Melmarc stopped walking to look at it. He¡¯d never heard of a town ID before.


    He took it from Delano and turned it to Eroms. ¡°How¡¯d you get this?¡±


    ¡°My dad got it for me.¡±


    That was odd. There was no such thing as a town ID.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    The town library was a tall domed building with wide balusters surrounding it. It reminded Melmarc of the large and famous courts he¡¯d seen in the few law movies he¡¯d watched, with what seemed like countless stairs and people strolling in and out.


    It was painted white with a yellow domed roofing.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Inside was much unlike the exterior. While the exterior played the reminder of a court house, the interior was a proper library with countless shelves and more books than the eyes could see.


    Melmarc had been here once before, brought by his uncle as a reward for getting an eighty-six percent in his math final exam. Most people measured their achievements by the grades, but his uncle had been more specific. An eighty-six percent got him a trip to the town library.


    In the years since he¡¯d been here, the library had only grown. The shelves were vastly more and the number of books had all but gone out of hand.


    The librarian they met at the counter was an old woman, truly grown to age. She had a weathered face and held her hair up in a grandmotherly bun with the spectacles to boot for eye glasses. Despite this, she stood with a straight back.


    She had been managing the library for more than twenty years, sometimes single-handedly. Rumor was that she was a Gifted. Most likely, her skills somehow allowed her a great range of management skills that allowed her keep track of every book in the library.


    Considering there were classes like Barista that created a nigh perfect Barista, it wasn¡¯t far-fetched to think there would be a class called Librarian that would¡­ you guessed it¡­ give someone nigh perfect library skills.


    Magic was weird.


    The librarian looked at Melmarc and his friends as if they were drones moving from one task to another, and promptly returned her attention to a book she was reading.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ good evening,¡± Melmarc greeted as they approached her.


    ¡°Evening.¡± She looked with a blank expression from him to Delano, then up at Eroms. For Eroms, she gave an easy smile. ¡°How may I help you fine young man this evening?¡±


    Okaaay¡­Melmarc looked between the both of them. I do the greeting and he gets the service.


    Rather than dwell on it, he pressed forward. ¡°Sorry to intrude, but where can we find the mythical creatures section?¡±


    ¡°Isle 4D, shelf 8.¡± Her eyes never left Eroms. She reached under her desk and brought out a sandwich wrapped in a transparent cellophane. ¡°Would you like a sandwich, young man?¡±


    Delano looked at the sandwich like it would jump out at him. Regardless, he reached for it. ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯a¡ªOw!¡±


    The woman smacked his hand with a wooden ruler Melmarc hadn¡¯t noticed she was holding. ¡°Not for you.¡±


    Delano cradled his hand and turned away from them.


    ¡°What¡¯s with people and hitting me today.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what was happening right now, and wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to know. So he tugged on Eroms sleeves and motioned for them to go. They had the information they needed so there was no real reason to remain here with an elderly woman who drew rulers out of nowhere and offered people food.


    ¡°Thank you, ma¡¯am.¡± He gave a small bow of gratitude before turning away.


    Eroms, took the sandwich from the desk and gave the lady a small wave before following.


    The isles and shelves were labeled, and they found isle 4D shelf 8 easily.


    It was a tall, brown shelve, like all the ones around it, with a ladder parked at one end of it. Countless books filled it from top to bottom, large and small, thin and thick. The ladder was for those at the top.


    They grabbed a few from reachable levels without the help of the ladder and found a table in a corner they could use.


    It was against the window and Delano took the seat right next to the window. Melmarc sat on the other side of the desk, and Eroms took his place next to Delano.


    ¡°Don¡¯t libraries usually ask people to put their bags away when they come in?¡± Delano opened the book he¡¯d chosen and was leafing through its pages. ¡°The old lady didn¡¯t even look like she cared what we did.¡±


    Melmarc leafed through his book, an encyclopedia of northern myths. ¡°As long as I¡¯m in the library, I¡¯m not really bothered about much else.¡±


    ¡°And she just gave him a sandwich. Just like that.¡± Delano looked between them. ¡°No one found that odd? Like she saw him and thought ¡®let¡¯s give this young man something to eat¡¯ in the l-i-b-r-a-r-y.¡±


    Melmarc did pause this time. He¡¯d found it odd, too. But he¡¯d been too busy thinking of what type of Guardian he had back home.


    ¡°And he¡¯s just eating it like it¡¯s normal.¡± Delano reached out to snatch the sandwich from their friend and failed. ¡°Stop eating food strangers give you.¡±


    Melmarc raised his head to find Eroms was already half-way through with the sandwich.


    ¡°You good?¡±


    Eroms nodded.


    ¡°Any idea why people keep giving you food?¡±


    Eroms shrugged and took another bite.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to stop him from eating?¡± Delano complained. ¡°He doesn¡¯t even know the lady. Just the other day he came over to my place and my aunt Lizzy gave him a banana.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been friends since childhood, D.¡± Melmarc turned a page to a picture of a basilisk. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a big deal that your aunt¡¯s giving him food.¡±


    Eroms nodded in agreement, but Delano was far from agreeable.


    ¡°You don¡¯t get it. Aunt Liz doesn¡¯t share food. Never. But she just gives him a whole banana? It¡¯s my aunt Lizzy. There¡¯s no way you don¡¯t remember her.¡±


    Melmarc knew aunt Lizzy. She was Delano¡¯s nice aunt that turned psychopathic when it came to sharing food.


    Now that he thought of it, maybe it was weird.


    Eroms was done with the sandwich and rolled up the cellophane. He slipped it into his bag to be disposed of later on at the nearest trash bin he could find.


    Well, I can¡¯t stop him now.


    Delano grumbled a bit, but eventually they lulled into an easy library silence. Eroms had taken a small book from the shelf and was going through it. He looked particularly invested in whatever he was reading.


    After a while, Delano turned his book, a thick encyclopedia with a green cover, and pushed it towards Melmarc.


    He tapped on one of the open pages with a finger. ¡°How about that? You said it looks like a dragon without wings.¡±


    Melmarc looked down at the page. In front of him was a wyrm, wingless and serpentine.


    He shook his head. ¡°Too snake-like.¡±


    Eroms turned his small book. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    Delano took one look at it and gagged. ¡°Must be a demon of some kind.¡±


    Melmarc looked at it. It was a picture of what looked like a wheel covered in many eyes with more wheels inside covered with more eyes. It was¡­ not comfortable to look at.


    ¡°That¡¯s an Ophanim,¡± he said, returning his attention to his own encyclopedia. ¡°And it¡¯s not a demon.¡±


    Delano looked at it again and shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s got to be a demon. Can¡¯t be any other explanation.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an angel.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as Delano processed the information.


    Then he made a face. ¡°You¡¯re joking. Aren¡¯t angels meant to be handsome and beautiful with wings? All heavenly. I heard there are some that look like babies and some with, like six wings. This one looks¡­ wrong. It¡¯s just eyes all over¡­ and round.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re talking about cherubims. That¡¯s an Ophanim, also called ¡®many-eyed-ones¡¯.¡±


    Delano looked at the image one more time and gave a full body shiver.


    ¡°Well, they definitely named it right.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s next page showed him the picture of a drake.


    Eroms turned his book back to himself and continued leafing through it. Delano took his book and did the same, but with far less interest than Eroms.


    After a while, Delano looked up from his book and said, ¡°Have you considered that, though?¡±


    ¡°Considered what?¡±


    ¡°Angels.¡±


    Melmarc paused. He hadn¡¯t considered that because it hadn¡¯t been worth considering. His parents were Christians. It was difficult to believe his mom would learn that they¡¯d gotten an angel for a pet and act so nonchalant about it. Also, he didn¡¯t know of any dragon-like angel.


    I can¡¯t remember the last time mom and dad followed us to church, though, he mused. It¡¯s only uncle Dorthna that takes us these days¡­


    When last did we even go to church?


    Now that he thought about it, he hadn¡¯t been in a church in forever.


    ¡°Just hear me out,¡± Delano continued. ¡°We know that there are many types of angels. You just showed me one that looks like wheels inside wheels with way too many eyes. If that can be an angel, who says angels can¡¯t be wingless and look like dragons.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not a dragon.¡±


    ¡°But it is.¡± Delano raised his hands and ticked off his fingers. ¡°It¡¯s got leathery skin. It¡¯s got deep black eyes with white dots. It¡¯s got the body of a dragon. It¡¯s ticking all the boxes of Dragon-Knights dragon. Ergo, dragon.¡±


    Melmarc refused. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have wings.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it lost them on its way here.¡± Delano closed his book and leaned forward. ¡°The Chaos run that happened was what? A week ago? The Delvers had the entire place closed off, and I heard there was a lot of fire involved in the whole mess. Bigbluecroc99 said on his podcast that all the monsters that came out were all scaly and fire based.¡±


    Melmarc still shook his head. Uncle Dorthna had said it wasn¡¯t a dragon. He wouldn¡¯t lie. He never lied. Well, there was that one time¡­ okay, he lied sometimes, but only for jokes.


    Delano turned to Eroms. ¡°Help me out here. Everything points to it being a dragon. Dragon-Knight keeps his dragon in an active volcano somewhere because dragons thrive in places that are hot as hell. It¡¯s got to be a dragon.¡±


    It had to be. Yes. But it wasn¡¯t. Melmarc refused to believe his uncle had lied or been wrong.


    Delano sighed and leaned back on his chair.


    Then he tossed his hands up in defeat. ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing. Doesn¡¯t seem like anything I say will get to you. My personal opinion? It¡¯s a dragon.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    He didn¡¯t want to be difficult. It wasn¡¯t his intention. And his friends had given up on any plans they might¡¯ve had to follow him to the library just for this. He could feel Delano¡¯s frustration from across the table. His frustration at him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sor¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Delano pointed a finger at him. ¡°I swear to all that is sacred, if you apologize, I¡¯ll rip your leg off and feed it to Eroms over here.¡±


    Eroms made a face. ¡°Gross.¡±


    Delano snorted, then folded his arms over his chest. ¡°Says the guy that bit my leg in elementary school.¡±


    ¡°You had barbeque sauce on your leg. And I was curious.¡±


    Melmarc watched his friends exchange a few words. Delano joked about Eroms cannibalistic tendencies, and Eroms argued that he was the only human he was willing to eat.


    It was a weird conversation. But Melmarc guessed that being childhood friends set the standard for what could be considered weird very high.


    God knew he and Ark sometimes had the weirdest kinds of conversations without even noticing.


    ¡°What of you?¡± he asked Eroms after a while. ¡°What do you think it is?¡±


    Delano and Eroms stopped arguing, and Eroms looked down at his book. He turned a few pages back, then raised the book.


    Delano had to lean forward to get a look at what was on the page.


    ¡°A Hydra?¡±


    He looked at Eroms, found he was serious, and started laughing. ¡°That¡¯s a good one. I think I like his guess better.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Can¡¯t be a Hydra, Eroms. It¡¯s only got one head.¡±


    ¡°Just hear me out, yeah?¡± Delano was still laughing. ¡°A Hydra¡¯s got more than one head, but that¡¯s because each time you cut one, two grow out. So it¡¯s got to start somewhere, right? You can always try it out when you get home. Take its head off and see what happens.¡±


    Eroms turned to him. ¡°That¡¯s gross.¡±

 TWELVE: Angel Ass

    It was not a Hydra, a wyrm, a basilisk¡­


    Or an angel.


    The last one had gotten a good laugh out of Melmarc¡¯s uncle. It was a full belly laugh, satisfyingly it was not the roll-of-the-chair laughs that was their uncle¡¯s trade mark.


    ¡°An angel? What gave you that idea?¡± uncle Dorthna asked when he was done laughing.


    Melmarc shrugged.


    With his sister present and Ark carrying the Guardian like a baby, he wasn¡¯t sure how they would react to finding out he¡¯d told his friends about it.


    Was it supposed to be like a family secret? It was only one of two of its kind in the whole world. And the first had caused an uproar when it was revealed decades ago.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t possibly be an angel,¡± Dorthna told him. ¡°How many angels have you seen without their wings?¡±


    ¡°None.¡± Melmarc paused. ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve never seen an angel before. No one has.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    His uncle¡¯s face dropped into the emptiest expression they had ever seen. ¡°Well, all angels have wings. They may not always be feathered but they all have wings. So¡­ not an angel.¡±


    ¡°Uncle D,¡± Ninra said, suspicion lacing her voice. ¡°Are angels real? Like, real, real?¡±


    Dorthna gave a nervous chuckle. ¡°Of course they are. It says so in the bible.¡±


    ¡°She means real, real,¡± Ark interjected. ¡°Like you can wrap your hand around their neck and squeeze real.¡±


    He was standing behind Dorthna¡¯s couch and rocking steadily from side to side. The Guardian was cradled comfortably against his chest in one arm, and he had the index finger of his free hand in the creature¡¯s mouth.


    It held onto his hand with its two stubby, baby, front limbs and was nibbling on the finger. Ark was like a mother with a feeding bottle.


    Their uncle scratched his head, looking from one of them to the other.


    ¡°Now, I know what I want to say,¡± he spoke finally. ¡°And I know what your dad would want me to say.¡±


    ¡°And what would dad want you to say?¡± Melmarc was still looking at Ark swaying from side to side.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter what your dad would want me to say. Angels are real, your bible tells you so, and that¡¯s my answer.¡±


    ¡°Final answer, uncle D?¡± Ark teased.


    ¡°Final answer.¡±


    Ninra laughed. ¡°There¡¯s definitely a portal somewhere out there that leads to heaven. Angels and everything all floating around and looking majestic and shii.¡±


    ¡°If there was,¡± their uncle pointed a finger at her, ¡°and I¡¯m not saying there is, you definitely don¡¯t want to go in there.¡±


    ¡°Kinda gives a whole new perspective to the whole religion thing,¡± Melmarc mused.


    It was saying a lot that he could easily consider basilisks and wyrms and wendigos as potentially real despite being creatures from mythologies, but not angels. When Delano had posed the idea, the impossibility of it was ninety percent part of why he¡¯d rejected it.


    Now¡­


    He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt.


    If angels are just behind a portal that could open anytime, doesn¡¯t that mean Delvers have to fight them?


    How do you venerate something whose ass you¡¯ve kicked before?


    Melmarc realized Ark was looking at him. Their eyes met and whatever he was thinking must¡¯ve shown on his face because he watched a question bloom on Ark¡¯s face.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    His brother looked like a child that had just been told the Easter bunny wasn¡¯t real. When he said what was on his mind, Melmarc couldn¡¯t say he was surprised.


    ¡°Wait a minute!¡± he leaned forward over uncle Dorthna¡¯s couch.


    The Guardian gave a small cackle of protest and he was forced to stand upright again. Then he went back to swaying.


    Everyone waited.


    When the Guardian grew quiet, he continued. ¡°Did mom and dad fight angels? Is that why we don¡¯t go to church anymore?¡±


    Ninra gasped, then she started laughing again. ¡°Did a member of this family kick angel ass? Oh, Father Boniface would be so appalled if he ever finds out.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna ran a tired hand down is face. ¡°If your parents ever hear you guys talking like this, I¡¯ll deny ever being part of this conversation.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s cool,¡± Ark said. ¡°We can just say Mel found out from one of his countless research of Delvers and Portals.¡±


    Melmarc shot his brother a glare while their sister agreed.


    ¡°That would actually work,¡± she muttered. ¡°He¡¯s always learning one new thing or the other about¡ªcan you please stop doing that, Ark. It¡¯s weird.¡±


    ¡°Doing what?¡±


    ¡°That! You keep treating that thing like a baby when it might grow up one day to be living in a volcano.¡±


    ¡°Not likely,¡± Melmarc said absently. ¡°It¡¯s not a dragon.¡±


    ¡°And¡­¡± Ark moved his hand, saw the Guardian wasn¡¯t ready to let go, and left it there. ¡°Annnnd, you¡¯re just jealous ¡®cause it won¡¯t let you anywhere near it.¡±


    Ninra scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s what you think.¡±


    Melmarc had more worries, and they were the reason he was yet to take his eyes off his brother. Since no one was going to say it, he felt he should.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried it¡¯s going to bite you again?¡±


    Ark looked down at the creature. Then him and the creature looked at Melmarc. It was so in sync that Melmarc could¡¯ve sworn they were communicating somehow.


    ¡°Not really,¡± Ark answered. ¡°It bit me like an hour ago so I¡¯m guessing I¡¯m good for another few.¡±


    Melmarc looked at all three of them. Uncle Dorthna, Ark, and Ninra.


    ¡°Is no one worried by that¡­ at all?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Ninra answered, not looking worried. ¡°I was there when it bit him, but he healed right up, so I guess it¡¯s good. And uncle Dorthna says its fine.¡±


    ¡°It is.¡± Dorthna waved the worry aside.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about it. Their reactions were making him feel as if he worried too much. But Ark was impulsive, he did things simply because he could. He was an amazing brother, that much was without doubt. He looked out for Melmarc whenever he could.


    But sometimes it was as if he forgot to look out for himself.


    ¡°By the way,¡± uncle Dorthna drew their attention. ¡°I forgot to ask yesterday, and this morning. But have you guys named that thing. You know names are important for magical creatures, right? And you¡¯ve got to figure out what it eats.¡±


    Ark looked puzzled. ¡°It never acts hungry so I just thought¡­¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You just thought what, Ark?¡±


    Ark looked away. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Ark.¡±


    ¡°I swear it¡¯s nothing. I had it, then I lost it. Promise.¡±


    Melmarc eyed his brother for a while longer, then dropped the topic.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    Their father came back from his deployment that weekend. On Sunday, to be precise. And true to their mother¡¯s words, he was not happy to see the Guardian.


    His face tightened in the deepest frown Melmarc and Ark had ever seen in their lives. He said nothing, did nothing. He simply stared at the creature with a dark face while it hid behind Ark¡¯s leg when they¡¯d shown him.


    It had been a very tense moment that had lasted for a whole thirty seconds before their father left their room.


    Oddly enough, it didn¡¯t feel as if he was mad about them getting a pet. It was like he was mad at the pet.


    A couple of weeks went by, and winter began proper.


    After going through names like The Harbinger of Doom, Dark Lord, and Liquid Fire because he thought they were cool, Ark finally settled on a name for the Guardian.


    Spitfire.


    Melmarc had been forced to agree reluctantly. In his defense, since knowing the creature, it had never let out a breath of smoke, speak less of a puff of fire.


    Still, Spitfire was better than Dark Lord Mordark. Sometimes he felt his brother watched too much television and read too many comics.


    But it was a bit hypocritical on his part, if he was being honest. After all, he¡¯d had literally no name for the thing.


    Their game of figuring out what Spitfire was with their uncle continued to run into the winter. After days of being bombarded with different possibilities, Dorthna had added a new rule to the game.


    For any name they brought up, they were to defend their reason for it. It was a game of figuring out what creature Spitfire was, not a guessing game. And just so they¡ªand by they, he meant Melmarc¡ªdidn¡¯t end up devoting school time to the topic, they were only allowed one name a day.


    No one had gotten it yet.


    Melmarc continued trying.


    He didn¡¯t go to the town library again, though. He wasn¡¯t going to keep doing that to his friends. Instead, he settled for the maddening action of going into page two and three of the internet search.


    The day Delano had caught him on page four of ¡®mythical beasts of Africa¡¯ had been the last straw.


    ¡°I think you need to join your brother in therapy,¡± he¡¯d said, eyeballing Eroms who continued to receive all kinds of food from all kinds of strangers.


    That day he¡¯d received a cup of lemonade from a small girl in elementary school. In his defense, you didn¡¯t say no when a kid offered you a gift. You simply smiled and took it like it was the most important thing in the word. Didn¡¯t matter if it was a cup of sand they were pretending was food.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Melmarc had argued as his finger hover over the arrow that would take him to page five.


    As for Eroms, it always seemed like he was along for the ride. Anywhere Delano and Melmarc went, he was happy to go.


    For Delano, he had his own mystery to solve.


    Why were strangers going out of their way to give Eroms food? And why was Eroms taking it without any worries?


    It was almost as if their friend knew the answer but wasn¡¯t sharing.

 THIRTEEN: Someone Gets A Class

    It was into the early days of January when they found out what type of creature Spitfire was.


    The winter snow still blanketed the ground outside, suffocating the grass and chilling the air. It was a vacation period so there was no school. Even if it hadn¡¯t been, it would¡¯ve been good enough to call it a snow day. So there would¡¯ve still been no school.


    They had yet to figure out what Spitfire ate.


    It wasn¡¯t chicken or chips or stew or rice. It wasn¡¯t¡ªand Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe they¡¯d tried it with a magical creature¡ªraw meat or live prey.


    It didn¡¯t even drink water.


    The only thing it used its mouth for, except for making an odd cackling sound whenever it was uncomfortable, was biting Ark every now and again.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what it said that Ark was already accustomed to it. He even joked about how it was Spitfire¡¯s diet.


    ¡°Eight bites a day keeps the hunger away.¡±


    But Melmarc couldn¡¯t really complain because no one else did. He attributed it to the fact that it never bit anyone else but Ark for some reason.


    Ninra always looked bothered but never said anything. Their uncle Dorthna would always smile when it came up and ask about how Ark¡¯s pain tolerance was coming along. There would be a tick in their father¡¯s jaw every single time, his anger at Spitfire ever-growing but never showing.


    ¡°It heals every time,¡± his mother had told Melmarc once while he helped her set the plate for family dinner on a Sunday evening. ¡°And trust me, it¡¯s not injecting your brother with any toxins or question-ables.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s always biting him,¡± he¡¯d complained. ¡°He¡¯s losing a lot of blood.¡±


    His mother had paused to think about that one before placing a plate down where their father liked to sit.


    ¡°That¡¯s not much of a problem, really.¡± She walked into the kitchen and he followed her. ¡°Mel, trust us. I know you worry for your brother a lot. God knows he acts like he¡¯s indestructible sometimes, but this is good for him. Besides, haven¡¯t you noticed he doesn¡¯t get angry anymore?¡±


    Melmarc had noticed it. But he¡¯d thought it was because Ark was too busy taking care of Spitfire to be worried about other things. That and the fact that he wasn¡¯t having any problems with anyone in school. Not that being bitten everyday gave him some level of self-control.


    Listening to everyone¡¯s lack of real worry, Melmarc had let the topic die.


    During the Christmas Ark had dragged Melmarc out of the house, and they¡¯d both gone bed hunting for Spitfire.


    They got him one of those dog beds that was basically a black pillow stuffed into a half-woven basket.


    Ark had chosen the color because it matched Spitfire¡¯s.


    Despite the bed, Ark always did his best to get it to share his own bed with him. He would play with it into the late hours of the night until he fell asleep. Then it would crawl down from his bed and into the laundry basket.


    It would pick a shirt at random¡ªalways a shirt¡ªthen crawl into its bed with it and sleep.


    In the earlier days, Melmarc had fought it for his shirt but soon learned to give up. Taking the shirt was a guarantee that there would be no sleep because Spitfire would cry all night. A replacement shirt would not suffice to silence it. Ark¡¯s doting and new found motherly instincts did not work either.


    The only solution was giving it the exact same shirt back. The only reason Melmarc had made the concession was because the shirts always came back intact.


    It was late in the night on a Wednesday when it happened.


    Ninra was somewhere in her room doing whatever she did. Their parents were out on another portal deployment so Uncle Dorthna was using the living room couch to watch a movie.


    Ark was busy playing with Spitfire on his bed while Melmarc surfed the internet looking for ¡®dragon-like creatures that were not dragons¡¯. Most of his results gave him sea serpents of different kinds.


    He was on page six of his internet search when Ark swore.


    ¡°Fucking hell!¡±


    Accustomed to some level of it, Melmarc just raised his head and looked at his brother.


    ¡°I thought it¡¯s already bitten you for the night.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t believe how casually he was saying the words. It was like they were all losing their minds when it came to Spitfire.


    ¡°It has,¡± Ark said, rushing off his bed so he didn¡¯t get any blood on it. ¡°Damn thing bit me all the way to the bone.¡± He sucked in a pained breath, clutching the wrist of the bitten hand as if it would somehow stop the blood flow. ¡°It hurts like a motherfucker.¡±


    Melmarc got off his bed and headed for their bathroom.


    ¡°Language,¡± he chided as he opened the door. ¡°I¡¯ll get some tissues. Get all that blood cleaned up before it stains the whole place. You think I should get a bandage from the cabinet?¡±


    ¡°First off,¡± Ark replied when Melmarc was in the bathroom, ¡°I¡¯m your older brother, you don¡¯t get to scold me for what I say. Second, forget the band aid, it¡¯s just going to heal up anyway.¡±


    Melmarc came out of the bathroom with a wad of tissue. ¡°You sure? It¡¯s never bitten you this late before, or this deep.¡±


    Ark was still in pain, while Spitfire had run under their reading table and was just staring at him. It was almost like it was waiting for something.


    Melmarc took Ark¡¯s bloody hand in his and started dabbing it with the tissue. ¡°You got some on the floor.¡±


    ¡°Damn it!¡± Ark swore when he saw the few drops. ¡°We¡¯ll need a mop.¡±


    Melmarc nodded absently. ¡°When I¡¯m done cleaning you up.¡±


    ¡°You do know I can clean myself up, right?¡±


    Melmarc paused. He looked up at his brother and cocked a brow. ¡°If I leave you with this, you¡¯ll ignore it and go do something else.¡± He looked back down at the blood he was dabbing. ¡°Just stay still. I¡¯ll get this cleaned up, mop up the blood, then we can go kick your pet¡¯s ass.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Like I don¡¯t know you wouldn¡¯t hurt a fly.¡±


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I take self-defense classes just like you, Ark.¡± Melmarc was done cleaning up the blood and wrapped the blood stained clumps of tissue in a roll of tissue. ¡°I know how to hit things too.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s self-defense not krav maga,¡± Ark called after him as he went into the bathroom. ¡°You know how to keep a fly from hurting you. There¡¯s a difference.¡±


    Melmarc tossed the tissue in the toilet bowl and flushed. He picked a bucket and turned on the tap. He didn¡¯t need too much water, just a little bit, and some liquid soap. At this point it was all routine to him. Spitfire bit Ark and he cleaned whatever blood stained the floor, not because anyone made him do it but because he could.


    There was a part of him that just felt that if Ark had to go through the pain, even if intentional, the least he could do was clean up the mess.


    He was getting the liquid soap when Ark¡¯s voice broke him from his routine.


    ¡°Uhh¡­ Mel, I think you should come here.¡±


    There was no panic in Ark¡¯s voice but there was something in it. Something Melmarc couldn¡¯t quite name. Worry, maybe.


    Whatever it was, it had Melmarc abandoning everything and rushing back into the room.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Is it not healing? Damn it, I always knew¡ª¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s happening.¡± Ark was leaning against their reading table for support. ¡°I think it¡¯s really happening.¡±


    He had a shaky smile on his face as if he couldn¡¯t allow himself believe that whatever was happening was happening, in case it was just a dream.


    Melmarc had an inkling of what it might be. Still, he asked, ¡°What¡¯s happening, Ark?¡±


    Ark was staring at the air in front of him, shaky smile trembling more.


    He looked away from nothing and met Melmarc¡¯s eyes. ¡°I just got a few skills to pick from.¡±


    Melmarc had been waiting for this day his whole life. Not the day it would happen to Ark but the day it would happen to him. He¡¯d acted out what he would do a lot as a kid and day dreamed a lot about his reaction now that he was older.


    He knew every action he would take down to the most miniscule detail. So he wasn¡¯t surprised when he acted.


    He walked up to Ark and asked, ¡°What are your options? You get to pick a skill, then you¡¯ll get to pick a support skill. But you don¡¯t get to see the options for your support skill until you¡¯ve chosen your skill.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Ark looked at the air in front of him. ¡°How do I move it?¡±


    Since it was Ark¡¯s skills, Melmarc couldn¡¯t see it. No one else could. After he selected his skills and got his class, he could show it to other people, but only fellow Gifted.


    As for how he could move what he was seeing, Melmarc knew all about that.


    ¡°Just think of moving it. If it doesn¡¯t move, swipe it with your hand, like a phone.¡± Melmarc could feel his excitement growing despite his attempts to smother it and be calm and collected.


    Ark seemed like he was in a rush, and such things could lead to mistakes. You did not want to make a mistake when selecting your skills. It wasn¡¯t like you could unselect them. Any decision was permanent.


    ¡°Uhh.¡± Ark swiped the air up, then down and frowned. ¡°There¡¯s just two. Breath of Poison and Breath of Fire.¡± He looked at Melmarc. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else.¡±


    Melmarc affected as much calm as he could to counter Ark¡¯s growing panic. ¡°That¡¯s fine, it¡¯s not a problem. You still have time. If you don¡¯t like any of them, we can wait and see what other ones we get. You can go as long as months without choosing a skill. During that time you¡¯ll get a few more and lose some. So no rush.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°Certain.¡±


    Ark let out a relieved sigh and Melmarc watched all the tension ease out of him.


    ¡°That¡¯s good. For a moment there I was worried about the timer.¡±


    ¡°Timer?¡± Melmarc¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What timer?¡±


    I¡¯ve never heard of a timer.


    Melmarc got up from the chair he hadn¡¯t even realized he was sitting on and stood beside his brother. The only thing he could see was nothing, and he swore under his breath.


    He¡¯d never read or heard anything about timers when people were offered their first skills.


    ¡°What¡¯s the timer saying?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just counting down. Uhhh¡­ it says I¡¯ve got about one minute and a few seconds left.¡± Ark looked at Melmarc. ¡°What happens when it hits zero?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    But Melmarc was sure they could guess. He¡¯d never heard of anyone losing all their skills just because they didn¡¯t choose one before. In fact, there was a girl holding the world record for longest skill offering not chosen. Eight months, sixteen days and counting.


    How did they know that was how long she¡¯d had skills and not picked any? Melmarc didn¡¯t know, and it wasn¡¯t important.


    ¡°Maybe I get a new set when the countdown reaches zero?¡± Ark tried.


    Melmarc snorted sarcastically. ¡°And I can punch through walls.¡±


    It was a possibility, but it wasn¡¯t one he was willing to take a risk on. Not the wall punching but the skill reset. For all they knew, he could lose his skills when it hit zero.


    Or it could force a random skill on him.


    He hadn¡¯t ever heard of something like that happening before, though. But he¡¯d also never heard of a skill selection with a countdown.


    ¡°One minute, Mel.¡±


    Ark sounded so calm.


    ¡°How can you be so calm right now?¡± Melmarc was panicking. ¡°You¡¯re running out of time.¡±


    ¡°First, we are running out of time.¡± He checked a section of the air again. ¡°Second, you¡¯re already doing all the panicking for me.¡± He shrugged. ¡°No point in the both of us panicking. Besides, it¡¯s just one skill, and I¡¯ve got two to pick from, it¡¯s not exactly rocket science¡­ fifty seconds.¡±


    Melmarc saw some logic to it. So he chose not to mention that there was a chance they only had a minute to pick both his skill and his supporting skill.


    What do we choose?


    He considered calling for uncle Dorthna and killed the idea immediately.


    Shouting for him was burning time they didn¡¯t have. Then they would have to wait for him to get here, give him the options they had, then wait for him to decide on which one was best.


    As a former Delver he would know which would be most useful to someone like Ark.


    But they didn¡¯t have that time.


    ¡°Forty seconds,¡± Ark informed him.


    ¡°Okay, okay. Uhhh¡­ which one would you prefer. Burning people to death or poisoning them to death.¡± Melmarc winced at his own words. ¡°They sound harsh but it¡¯s what we¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°Poisoning could take a while to take effect so¡­¡± Ark poked the air with his finger. ¡°Breath of fire it is.¡±


    Melmarc waited for something to happen but nothing did.


    ¡°Ooh, that¡¯s cool,¡± Ark muttered after a while.


    Melmarc really hated that he couldn¡¯t see what Ark was seeing.


    ¡°What¡¯s cool?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been bumped up to one minute and forty-three seconds, and I¡¯ve got four sub-skills to choose from.¡±


    Melmarc let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. At least we got more time.


    ¡°What are the options?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Well,¡± Ark swiped the air. ¡°I¡¯ve got Poison skin, which is obviously a no. Will of Hades, which sounds too dark. Titan Armor, which just sort of gives me what I think is stone skin. And Book of Solomon.¡±


    ¡°What do the others do?¡± Melmarc asked hurriedly.


    ¡°Poison Skin pretty much makes my skin poisonous and corrosive when touched.¡±


    ¡°Definitely not. I don¡¯t want to die when you forget and hug me.¡±


    ¡°I think I can turn it off, but you¡¯re right. That¡¯s a no. Will of Hades gives me fire resistance and bonus stats in burning and heat based environment.¡±


    ¡°And the last one?¡±


    ¡°Book of Solomon¡¯s kind of odd.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°It gives me extra intelligence, and a chance to summon a familiar as long as it has surrendered to me. Sounds too complicated.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. Ark was a simple person. Simple skills would work best for him. But the ability to summon familiars would be cool, and it didn¡¯t give him any limit on how many he could summon. Strength in numbers and all that.


    ¡°So Titan armor and Will of Hades,¡± Melmarc mused. ¡°I don¡¯t think dad will be happy with the second one. Sounds too ominous. And you know how he feels about those.¡±


    Ark snorted. ¡°Isn¡¯t he the guy that kicked angel-ass? I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be fine. Besides, I don¡¯t want my skin to turn into stone. So Will of Hades it is.¡±


    Ark poked the air and smiled. ¡°With a minute to spare.¡±


    Then they waited for something to happen. Unlike skills, people weren¡¯t offered their class, it was thrust upon them. Your skills selection combined to give you your class.


    ¡°Do you feel any different?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Nope, still feel like myself. Nothing¡ªOh, there it is.¡±


    The air grew hotter somehow, but only for a moment. Ark¡¯s eyes glazed over when it happened then it turned black as Spitfire¡¯s with white dots like countless stars. It made him look like a¡­


    ¡­Shit.


    Melmarc had an idea of what Spitfire was.


    And he wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about it.


    Ark¡¯s eyes turned back to normal and he gave a full body shiver. ¡°That felt awesome. And look, I got a class¡­ uhhh¡­ okay¡­¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like the sound of that.


    ¡°What class did you get?¡±


    Ark looked at the air, clearly looking at his class, then looked at him. ¡°Promise you¡¯ll handle this in a calm and collected manner.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Ark. What¡¯s your class?¡±


    ¡°You have to promise first. You won¡¯t make a big deal out of it, and when mom and dad come back, we¡¯ll tell them together. And by we, I mean I¡¯ll stand behind you while you tell them.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like the sound of that.


    ¡°Promise?¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Okay, but not to the last one. It¡¯s your class so you tell them yourself. The best I can do is be there when you tell them.¡±


    Ark scratched his head in worry. ¡°Uhh¡­ okay. I guess I can live with that.¡±


    ¡°So what class did you get?¡±


    Ark looked really worried. ¡°I¡­ uhh¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re stalling.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright. My class is¡­¡± he scratched the back of his head again. ¡°Demon Lord.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s face fell.


    Now that wasn¡¯t good.

 FOURTEEN: Human

    ¡°Mel, please stop looking up ¡®demon lord class¡¯ on the internet. We already know what you¡¯re going to get.¡±


    ¡°There might be something else. I¡¯m sure of it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re already on page ten. All you¡¯re getting are anime references.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s because those are the popular searches. There are a lot of hidden gems in the farther pages. Dad¡¯s not going to just accept that you¡¯re a Demon Lord, Ark. He might¡¯ve kicked angel ass at some point but you know he¡¯s still Christian at heart.¡±


    Melmarc was seated on his bed, tapping away at his phone. It was not his skill, he was not the Gifted, but he was severely terrified for his brother. Their father obviously wouldn¡¯t harm him or anything negative, and, surprisingly, that was the least of his worries.


    ¡°You¡¯re a Demon Lord, Ark. A Demon Lord.¡±


    Ark sighed and picked the phone easily from Melmarc¡¯s hands. ¡°I am not a Demon Lord, Mel. My class is Demon Lord. And my guardian is, apparently, a demon. Which means Uncle Dorthna knew.¡±


    Melmarc perked up at that. ¡°The mystery third condition.¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    Spitfire was still under their reading table. It stood there, mouth in a wide open smile. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth and it was panting like a dog that was happy and ready to play.


    It was still very cute.


    And still very much a demon.


    Melmarc let Ark hold on to his phone. If his brother didn¡¯t he would probably find the end of the internet search pages.


    ¡°He said the third condition was more unlikely to happen than you meeting Dragon-Knight.¡±


    Ark chuckled. ¡°Who knows, at this rate maybe I¡¯ll get to meet Dragon-Knight, too. We can be a guardian duo. I¡¯ll be her understudy.¡±


    It was still night outside. The light in their room was still turned on since Ark hated sleeping with the lights off ever since the Player had broken into their house and wrecked the entire place.


    ¡°How about a practice run,¡± Ark suggested. ¡°Uncle Dortha already has a little bit of an idea of what could happen so I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll handle it better.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Won¡¯t be much of a practice run. Have you met uncle Dorthna? You could tell him you just became the second coming and he wouldn¡¯t bat an eye.¡±


    Ark shrugged and slipped Melmarc¡¯s phone into his pocket. He paused after a moment, brought it, out and checked the screen.


    ¡°You just got a message.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. ¡°Unless it¡¯s a Wikipedia update stating that Demon Lords are actually holy in some way, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m interested right now.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s from Delano.¡± Ark turned the screen to him. ¡°He wants to know if you¡¯re still coming for the school trip.¡±


    Melmarc got up from his bed. He felt as if someone had attached extra weights to his legs.


    ¡°My brother just became the Demon Lord. I¡¯m sure a school trip is the least of my worries.¡±


    ¡°Saying it a million times won¡¯t change anything. You know that, right? Besides, I¡¯m not the Demon Lord. I¡¯ve just got a class called Demon Lord.¡±


    ¡°A class with no records of any one having it in the entire world. And don¡¯t get me started on the animes.¡±


    He was standing at the door now, hand on the handle. ¡°Come on, then. Let¡¯s go practice how we¡¯re going to tell our Christian parents that their son is the anti-christ.¡±


    He opened the door and walked out.


    Behind him Ark was chuckling.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    True to character, Uncle Dorthna wasn¡¯t fazed by the news.


    They¡¯d found him seated at the dining while the television ran a silent repeat of the afternoon news. He had a mug of cold water and was taking it in sips like it was hot tea.


    Breaking the news to their uncle had been nerve wracking.


    Despite Ark¡¯s affectation of nonchalance, he¡¯d stammered a bit and stumbled over his words enough times.


    When he¡¯d finally gotten the words out, uncle Dorthna grunted in amusement.


    ¡°Demon Lord, huh.¡± He stared thoughtfully at the wall for a moment. ¡°Never heard of that one before. What skills did you choose to get it?¡±


    ¡°Breath of Fire and Will of Hades,¡± Ark answered.


    ¡°I guess that makes sense. There¡¯s fire and there¡¯s hades. Sounds like a powerful combination. What were the options?¡±


    Ark told him. He made sure to point out which ones were the skills and which ones were the sub-skills.


    Dorthna took another slow sip of water while Ark and Melmarc stood waiting for his response. When it came, Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure it was in the list of what he expected.


    ¡°I¡¯d have gone with Book of Solomon. It gives increased intelligence which gives you more mana, and you get a list of familiars. You can¡¯t go wrong with skills that allow you summon more than one familiar.¡±


    ¡°The familiar will have to surrender to me first, though.¡±


    ¡°True. But I knew a guy with a similar skill. He had a skill named Call of The Siren. What it did was that it petrified nearby enemies that were weaker than him and fell beneath a certain self-awareness threshold. He raised the skill and upgraded it to Songs of Solomon.¡±


    ¡°Mine was Book of Solomon.¡±


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°It is. So what Songs of Solomon did was that while his old skill petrified enemies, this one made those enemies act as his allies.¡±


    ¡°Mind manipulation,¡± Melmarc muttered.


    ¡°Not entirely, but close enough. Anyway, personally, I would¡¯ve suggested going for Book of Solomon, but Will of Hades works well enough. Demon Lord, huh.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Your dad¡¯s going to be so pissed.¡±


    Whatever false sense of relief they¡¯d gotten from how casually he had handled the news so far left them almost immediately.


    Their father really was going to be pissed.


    How was a Christian going to handle being the father of the Anti-Christ?


    Uncle Dorthna waved his hand as if chasing a fly away. ¡°No need for the long face. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s not like he didn¡¯t expect it in some way. Your old man probably went to church and prayed against it. But¡­ well, these things happen.¡±


    ¡°You guys knew I was going to get skills?¡± Ark asked, confused.


    ¡°Well, not necessarily you. Just one of you.¡± Dorthna looked at Melmarc. ¡°Why do you think your mom was in support of wrapping Spitfire in your clothes.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it for a moment. Obviously, Spitfire had somehow given Ark powers. ¡°So you knew it might give one of us powers.¡±


    Dorthna nodded.


    ¡°And you guys were okay with it?¡± Ark asked, then paused. ¡°Where¡¯s Ninra by the way?¡±


    ¡°Out at a friend¡¯s place. And yes, we were okay with it. Well, your dad was kind of on the fence about it. Every parent wants their kid to become a Gifted, after all.¡±


    ¡°So you knew Spitfire might give one of us powers.¡± Melmarc pulled out a chair and sat down.


    ¡°It¡¯s how guardians work. They find a person and give them powers. That¡¯s how it worked for Dragon-knight. And back in the days she was so certain that all guardians did it. Seeing as she was the only one that knew how to communicate with a guardian, we were inclined to believe her. A hope against hope kind of thing.¡±


    Something wasn¡¯t sitting right with Melmarc. Their uncle¡¯s story felt¡­ incomplete.


    ¡°Even if it was a Demon?¡±


    Dorthna waved the question aside. ¡°When you¡¯ve gone into enough portals you learn that everything you know isn¡¯t necessarily black and white. Demons, angels, kitsune, Xuanzang, Wukong. There are always grey areas.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t grey just black and white mixed together until you can¡¯t tell where one starts and the other ends?¡±


    Dorthna paused.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying,¡± Melmarc went on. ¡°Sounds like it just means that sometimes it¡¯s extremely difficult to tell, so people just made up the saying so they don¡¯t feel so bad about not being able to make the right choice.¡±


    For a moment their uncle¡¯s eyes lost focus and his lids lowered. He looked sad, and older. And not the good kind of older.


    He smiled sadly. ¡°It must be nice being young. I miss it sometimes.¡±


    He took another sip of his water and didn¡¯t meet their eyes anymore. He just stared at the contents of his cup. ¡°You should go and sleep, Demon Lord. You should see your rank when you wake up.¡±


    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Ark swiped the air. ¡°I forgot to check what my rank was.¡±


    ¡°It takes sometime before it appears, so you don¡¯t have to be in a hurry. Some come quickly but those are rare.¡±


    Ark¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°You¡¯re right. It doesn¡¯t have any rank next to it.¡±


    They waited quietly while he swiped through the air a few more times.


    ¡°You sure dad¡¯ll be fine about this?¡± he asked when he was done. ¡°I know I come off as nonchalant most of the time, but I¡¯m really worried about this one.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be good.¡± Dorthna looked at them finally. His eyes still looked sad, tired. ¡°If you like, I could break the news to him for you. He might handle it better that way.¡±


    Ark was silent. He said nothing, simply stared at the air in thought.


    He¡¯s probably looking at his class, Melmarc thought. Now that he was a Gifted he¡¯d be doing a lot of air-staring.


    Ark shook his head. ¡°No. I should tell him myself. It¡¯s my class, so it¡¯s my responsibility.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°You should still go get some sleep, kiddo.¡±


    Ark turned and made his way for their room.


    Melmarc rose from his seat only to sit back down. The conversation was done, an answer of some kind had been reached. Everything was resolved. With that, the adrenaline that came with the mild panic and excitement for his brother was gone.


    What was left now was something¡­ hollow.


    ¡°You good?¡±


    Melmarc looked up to find his uncle staring at him from over the rim of his mug held close to his mouth.


    He nodded absently. He didn¡¯t think he was good, though.


    He had¡­ mixed feelings. Feelings that made him feel terrible.


    ¡°Do you believe that thing they say about how a Gifted couple can only have one Gifted child?¡± he asked before he could stop himself.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Dorthna dropped the mug on the table. ¡°Do you know The Blight and his wife?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    The Blight and his wife were famous because of the wife. The Delver had some type of necrotic skill that made people decay from the outside. It was part of, if not the main reason, he was given the nickname The Blight.


    But his wife was the reason people even paid attention to him. She was a Gifted detective in one of the cities, and was famous for the part she played in apprehending Gifted criminals. If there were supervillains, she would be a superhero.


    She wasn¡¯t the only one of her kind, though. Almost all police precincts had a Gifted detective department of sorts. Detectives and police officers who were called in when the problems became of a Gifted nature.


    Melmarc also knew where his uncle was going with it.


    ¡°I know they¡¯ve got two Gifted kids, but they¡¯re more like the exception, not the rule.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°But¡­ wait, didn¡¯t you once say you didn¡¯t believe in all that mumbo-jumbo. Y¡¯know, like mana isn¡¯t some sentient will that picks who gets skills and all that?¡±


    Melmarc looked down and away. ¡°I don¡¯t. But I¡¯m asking you because you used to be a Delver, so you should know more than me about these things.¡±


    ¡°Mel.¡±


    Melmarc let out a shaky exhale. ¡°Yes, uncle.¡±


    Dorthna said nothing. Instead, he let out a sigh of his own.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to get any skill, am I?¡± Melmarc could feel the tears in his eyes, and they stung. ¡°Gifted parents get one Gifted child, and Ark is the one this family¡¯s got.¡± He wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm before the tears could fall. ¡°I know I should be happy for Ark, and I swear I am. It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s just¡­¡±


    ¡°Mel.¡±


    ¡°Yes, uncle,¡± Melmarc sniffled.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to look at me if you want the answer, kiddo.¡±


    Melmarc composed himself as best he could and looked up at his uncle.


    Dorthna gave him a fond smile. ¡°Mana is not some sentient being that gets to pick and choose who gets skills. It¡¯s like being tall or being short. Some people get it and some people don¡¯t. There¡¯s no rule that says Gifted parents only get one Gifted child.¡±


    Melmarc hated this. He was supposed to be celebrating with Ark about getting a class, even if it was something as ominous as Demon Lord. But here he was, crying like a child about not having any.


    ¡°Do you know why people think Gifted parents only get one Gifted child?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s because most of the Gifted that get married to each other tend to be Delvers. And Delvers are committed to their craft. They spend most of their adult lives risking their lives to keep the world safe. They understand that it¡¯s an important task, so they rarely make out time to have children. The few that do usually end up with maybe one or two.¡±


    Melmarc wiped what was left of his unshed tears and put his head back to stop the slowly beginning flow of snot.


    Uncle Dorthna continued to look at him fondly.


    They remained that way in silence for a while. Melmarc was happy that Ark wasn¡¯t here to see it and his sister wasn¡¯t either.


    After a while, his uncle sipped his water again. ¡°You good?¡±


    Melmarc pulled his head forward and nodded.


    ¡°Yea. I think so.¡± He rested his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. ¡°Does this make me a bad person?¡±


    Dorthna dropped his mug. ¡°Not really. You know you¡¯re not sad your brother got a class, right?¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just sad you won¡¯t get one.¡±


    Hearing the word won¡¯t used in the sentence hurt more than Melmarc had expected.


    ¡°Or at least you think you won¡¯t,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°For all you know, another guardian might show up and bite you in the crotch.¡±


    ¡°Is that what it was doing when it was biting him?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°Trying to give him powers?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s how your parents and I saw it. What I¡¯m trying to say is that you¡¯re a good kid. You¡¯re happy for your brother, and you know it. It¡¯s just that right now you¡¯re sad for yourself, and it¡¯s overshadowing your happiness for your brother. Your sadness isn''t allowing you see your happiness. Unfortunately, it''s the thing with the negatives; the slightest one can cloud the brightest of positives. But don''t worry too much about it.¡±


    "But it''s not fair." Melmarc stared at the brown table beneath his head. "It shouldn''t be that bad."


    "Perhaps," Dorthna said. "But that''s life. Don''t let it get you down, though. Always try to remember the good. But for now, it''s alright to be sad for yourself."


    Dorthna left his mug on the table and got up. He walked up to Melmarc and placed a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make you a bad person, Mel. It just makes you human.¡±

 FIFTEEN: 1% Mastery

    It was late into the hours of the night, or early into the hours of the morning, depending on what type of person was reading the clock.


    Melmarc had fallen asleep on the dining table while coming to terms with the fact that he wasn¡¯t a bad person. At least Dorthna hoped that was what had happened.


    He sat on his favorite couch, staring at the screen of the television. The news was narrating the events of a Chaos run that had happened in Johannesburg where giant monsters that looked like a mix between a great Dane and a spider had caused a lot of damage.


    There was no sound, only video, and he wasn¡¯t reading lips or anything of the likes. He only knew the contents because he¡¯d already watched it the previous afternoon.


    The kids always assumed he loved the couch because it was comfortable and long enough to take his full length if he chose to lie down. While those were good qualities, they were not the reason the couch was his favorite.


    It was his favorite simply because it was in his favorite position. And he¡¯d been the one to put it there.


    He opened his hand and placed an object on the couch.


    It was an origami. He¡¯d been teaching Ninra how to make one ever since she¡¯d returned for the holiday, and now she was making them as complex as she could.


    She was a fast learner, but she was slow learning the origami.


    The reason was simple. She wasn¡¯t necessarily learning it for herself. She had a friend back in school who wanted to learn how to make a paper origami and she wanted to do something nice for her. And being able to teach the friend was something nice.


    Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t enough of a reason to get her undivided determination.


    Still, at the rate she was going, she would master it by the time she went back to college. So it wasn¡¯t bad progress.


    The origami was of a knight holding a spear, and it had taken her over twenty minutes to make it.


    Dorthna placed it on the couch slightly crumpled, and it unfolded itself slowly until it was returned to the condition he¡¯d received it in.


    When it stood straight, shaped to be a knight holding a spear with the tip to the sky and its butt on the ground it started a slow turn like a ballerina in a music box.


    A notification flashed in front of his eyes.


    [Skill Eye of the World functioning at 1%]


    [familiar mana detected is 0.002%]


    The second line wasn¡¯t very surprising.


    Most people left an imprint of themselves on whatever they handled for long enough. For those without classes, the amount of mana their imprint left behind was usually at a low level. Eye of the World was a skill that allowed him see the very structure of a thing. It broke it down to the most minute component.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Newly Gifted usually left a reading of about 2.1%. And the more powerful the Gifted, the higher the percentage left behind. Enov tended to leave behind 46% which was too much for his purposes.


    In fact, most Gifted left mana levels that were too high for him to work with. And at one percent, unfamiliar mana would be difficult to use. And if he waited too long, there was either nothing left or too much contamination.


    At one percent, Eye of the World could only detect the mana percentage, though. Once upon a time, it could¡¯ve detected a lot more. But that was once upon a time.


    Now this was what it had been reduced to. He tried not to let it weigh him down as he went to work, activating another skill.


    [You have used skill Hand of God]


    [Skill Hand of God is functioning at 1% Mastery]


    Beside the still turning origami, another image fazed in and out of reality. It was a kaleidoscope of colors. White with blue hues and purple and teal. It worked to solidify itself and Dorthna poured all his focus into it.


    After a few seconds of focus, the image dipped into nonexistence.


    Dorthna let out a sigh.


    [You have failed]


    [Attempt to recreate item [Origami] was unsuccessful]


    [Try Again?]


    Yes/No


    The origami stopped turning on the couch and fell. He let it.


    A slight anger swelled within him. In it was a touch of regret and self-pity. He swallowed it down just as easily as it had risen.


    He did not pity himself. He would not. Instead, he took a deep breath and activated Eye of the World again.


    [You have used skill Eye of the World]


    [Skill Eye of the World functioning at 1% Mastery]


    [familiar mana detected is 0.00001%]


    He let out a reluctant sigh and turned away from the notification and the fallen origami. He dismissed the notification with a thought and rested his head back on the couch. The mana percentage was too little for him to do anything with it.


    He stared at the ceiling.


    His mind went to his personal information and he paused.


    You do this all the time and you know it¡¯s bad for you, he told himself. Nothing good ever comes out of it.


    He knew that, just the way he knew he shouldn¡¯t have kept on fighting all those years ago. But he was stubborn, and he pulled up his personal information.


    [Name: Dorthna Jayden Black]


    [Class: Mage]


    [Rank: Unranked]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    ¡­


    [Conditional Status debuff detected: Word of ????]


    ¡­


    [Conditional Status Debuff: Word of ????]


    ???? has applied status effect Word of ???? on you.


    All skills have been restricted to 1% Mastery.


    Class rank has been reset to rank status as at the moment of attainment.


    [Condition of Debuff lifting]


    Slay ???? or surpass ????


    He had a third skill he could keep active for a long time without truly expending too much mana. Its basic use was to hold inanimate objects in a moment of existence for extended periods of time, and he¡¯d had it on for most of the day. He was ready to deactivate it now.


    He got up from the couch and walked over to one of the side-stools. It had a retractable compartment, and he opened it. He looked at Melmarc and confirmed the boy was still asleep before bringing out what he¡¯d kept inside the compartment.


    It was a biscuit wrap, folded up neatly.


    Melmarc had given it to him this afternoon and he¡¯d preserved it with the skill ever since. Now, he took it out of the compartment and placed it on top of the side-stool. The wrap was opposing proof of so many things the boy was worried about.


    [You have used skill Eye of the World]


    [Skill Eye of the World functioning at 1% Mastery]


    ¡­


    [familiar mana detected is 1.00009%]

 SIXTEEN: Lulus

    Ark was more than happy to announce very early the next morning that his class was Unranked, and his Growth Potential was B-rank before going back to bed. Though, to be fair, Melmarc didn¡¯t know if he had even gone to sleep at all.


    By general standards, it was a good Growth Potential rank


    Most Gifted walked around with less. B¡¯s were more in the fifteen percent of registered Gifted. A¡¯s were like one percent. And there were only three recorded S-rank Growth potentials known in the world.


    So, yes. B was a good rank.


    Uncle Dorthna had also been right. After an uncomfortable night¡¯s sleep at the dining table, Melmarc woke up feeling less sad and a bit more excited for Ark.


    So what if he didn¡¯t have powers? He still might. He was sixteen, and there were Gifted who got their Classes at the cusp of eighteen no matter how few.


    He still had time.


    The morning was simple and routine. Ark slept in and Melmarc let him. With Ninra not yet back from her night out at her friend¡¯s place, Melmarc was left to deal with the chores alone.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time it was happening, and on different occasions while their sister had been in school, he¡¯d slept in during a few holidays and Ark had done the chores himself.


    Melmarc tidied the living room, maneuvering his way around his uncle who slept on the couch. The television was still on, muted as videos scrolled on by. The right thing to do would be to turn it off, but he didn¡¯t.


    Like his parents, uncle Dorthna had an uncanny ability to sleep through almost anything. But turn the silent television playing in the background off and he¡¯d wake like a volcano had erupted.


    At this point Melmarc was convinced it was an adult thing.


    He found a paper origami in the shape of a man holding a spear on the floor and a folded biscuit wrap that looked¡­ odd.


    It was as if it had been folded improperly, then folded properly, then someone shaved away some layers off it and folded it again.


    In summary, it was odd to look at and odd to the touch.


    Ninra had recently started learning how to make origami from uncle Dorthna so Melmarc knew the origami was hers. And he¡¯d been the one to give his uncle the biscuit wrap yesterday afternoon, so it was his.


    He placed the origami on the dining table and was at a loss for what to do with the biscuit wrap. He wasn¡¯t sure if his uncle was done with it or not. Besides staring at the things he accepted from them and making them turn on their own, none of them still had any idea what his uncle did with the things they gave him.


    In the end, he walked up to one of the side-stools in the living room, positioned intentionally beside one of the one-seaters. It had a simple retractable compartment built into it, and he opened it.


    He placed the biscuit wrap into it and closed it.


    When he was done with the living room, he went into the kitchen. Dinner last night had been eaten in peace, and the plates had stacked. Ninra had a good habit of tidying up before and after cooking, so it made the kitchen an easier task than if someone, for instance, their uncle, had cooked.


    Melmarc placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He wiped down counters and rearranged utensils. He moved with a systematic rhythm. Like a painter in his gallery. Tables were cleaned. Marble counter-tops sparkled. Varnished wood shone like they¡¯d just been purchased.


    After the kitchen was his most hated chore. The guest restroom.


    It wasn¡¯t dirty, not necessarily. The only person who used it in the house¡ªdespite having his own room and restroom¡ªwas their uncle Dorthna. And he always kept it clean.


    There were simply tasks people hated. Ark hated cooking. Ninra hated going to the market for groceries.


    And Melmarc hated cleaning the restrooms.


    His final task led him back to his room where Ark lay in bed, sprawled out without order. He slept with his mouth open and a wide smile on his face.


    Spitfire rested carefully on his chest with a piece of cloth in its mouth. But it was not asleep.


    Melmarc opened the door to their room to find its eyes staring at him.


    Of course, he thought. Now that he¡¯s a Demon Lord, you¡¯ll sleep in the same bed with him¡ªwait a minute, is that my shirt?


    Melmarc peered down at the piece of fabric and let out a defeated sigh. It was his shirt. But it wasn¡¯t any of the important ones, so it didn¡¯t hurt too much.


    Uncle Dorthna said his mum only allowed them wrap Spitfire in his clothes because they wanted it to get accustomed to him. Probably bite me and give me powers.


    Now that it was a bust, maybe they would let him stop Spitfire from sleeping with his clothes. There was also another possibility, though.


    Melmarc looked at Spitfire with a curious apprehension. Maybe there was more to the demon than they knew.


    There¡¯s only one Dragon-knight, though, he thought as an idea rose and died in his mind. Besides, it only bites Ark. I guess now we know why.


    He also wasn¡¯t very sure he wanted to risk the chance of having his father deal with two Demon Lords even if Spitfire agreed to bite him.


    Which it won¡¯t.


    Arranging his room was quick, and by the time Melmarc was done, the sun was already bright in the sky.


    He was putting the finishing touches to the room, smoothening out his laid bed, when his phone rang. It was always on silent so it didn¡¯t ring out, it vibrated from where it was on their study table.


    He answered it.


    ¡°Eroms bit me last night at our sleepover that¡¯s not a sleepover,¡± Delano announced before Melmarc could even say a word. ¡°It doesn¡¯t hurt very much but we¡¯re going to Lulu¡¯s for a quick bite, wanna come with?¡±


    Melmarc thought about it. what the first part had to do with the second was knowledge only Delano possessed. But Melmarc was accustomed to his friend¡¯s random reports on the things Eroms does to him every now and again.


    As for the invite, Melmarc hadn¡¯t really done much in the way of going out this holiday so a breath of fresh air didn¡¯t sound so bad. God knew if he was left to his own devices he¡¯d stay home and attend his classes online even when school resumed.


    ¡°Sure thing,¡± he answered. ¡°I just have to let my uncle know. Who¡¯s paying?¡±


    ¡°You ask like you want to pay. Do you want to pay, rich kid?¡±


    Melmarc chuckled lightly. With both his parents being Delvers, it wasn¡¯t difficult to know his parents were richer than Delano¡¯s and Eroms¡¯.


    Delano had a running joke about how he knew Melmarc¡¯s parents actually had a palace in some country somewhere and were only leaving out in the suburbs because they were hiding from some Gifted cartel they¡¯d offended.


    ¡°I¡¯ll pay for Eroms,¡± Melmarc answered.


    ¡°Nice. Just nice.¡± Delano¡¯s voice danced with sarcasm. ¡°Now you¡¯re trying to give him free food, too. I swear it¡¯s like he¡¯s cast a spell on all of you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not about giving him free food, D.¡±


    ¡°You sure? If it isn¡¯t, then why aren¡¯t you paying for me?¡±


    Melmarc snorted. ¡°Nice try. You pay for your own food, D. See you at eleven?¡±


    ¡°I swear the both of you always team up on me,¡± Delano grumbled light-heartedly. ¡°Alright. See you at eleven. Lulu¡¯s place. I¡¯m having pancakes with the dirtiest syrup I can find.¡±


    ¡°Delano, it¡¯s almost af¡ª¡±


    His friend hung up before he could finish his sentence and Melmarc placed his phone on the table.


    He turned to Spitfire and shrugged. The creature was still staring at him.


    ¡°Who eats pancakes by eleven?¡±


    He checked his phone for the time and saw he was basically very short on it. He had less than forty minutes to finish cleaning, shower, dress, and get to Lulu¡¯s.


    Time spent on the rest of the cleaning was quick, and he would admit he wasn¡¯t the most thorough with the last of the chores.


    He shoved his clothes into the washer, took a quick bath, got dressed and headed out into the living room. He stopped half-way out the room door when he remembered he hadn¡¯t cleaned the blood stain from Ark¡¯s injury last night.


    And he couldn¡¯t remember cleaning it when he was tidying up the room.


    He looked at the spot where he remembered it being and saw nothing. The spot of wooden flooring was clean.


    He didn¡¯t have time to ponder much on it before darting out and into the living room.


    He tapped uncle Dorthna¡¯s foot to wake him, and told him that he was going out to meet his friends.


    His uncle opened his eyes long enough as proof of coherence before asking if he needed any money. Melmarc had more than enough, so Dorthna waved him off with words about how he shouldn¡¯t do anything he wasn¡¯t supposed to do.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    ¡­¡­


    Lulu¡¯s diner was somewhere in their school¡¯s neighborhood, and Melmarc met Delano and Eroms waiting for him outside. Winter was still well in its strides so they wore clothes fitting for the season, all complete with their own beanies.


    Lulu¡¯s was a famous place for high school students.


    It was nice and family friendly. Parents trusted it because they trusted Lulu, the diner¡¯s owner. No one knew her real name. Or, at least, anyone who did had probably sworn an oath not to disclose it or ever utter it again.


    Melmarc and his friends walked into the diner, ready for an early lunch. Delano rubbed his gloved hands together as if it was going to somehow generate heat. And Eroms watched him as if he expected something to happen, even if it was not heat related.


    They occupied one of the free tables and made their orders.


    True to his words, Delano ordered pancakes and a lot of syrup. There was enough syrup over his pancakes to fill a bowl.


    ¡°So how¡¯s the holiday been for you,¡± he said around a mouthful of pancakes. ¡°Go anywhere nice? Meet anyone new? How long is Ninra going to be around for?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged, twirling his fork in the pasta he¡¯d ordered. ¡°Ninra¡¯s leaving soon, so it¡¯ll be back to eating whatever uncle D can scrounge up.¡±


    Delano paused with pancake half-way to his mouth. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say your uncle knows how to cook?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°So why¡¯s he scrounging up food?¡±


    ¡°He knows how to cook but doesn¡¯t like cooking.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I see.¡± Delano stuck his pancake in his mouth. ¡°He¡¯s like you.¡±


    Eroms nodded. ¡°Food should not be scrounged up.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Delano barked in laughter. ¡°Says the guy who gets fed by any and every one.¡±


    As if to prove a point, one of the waitresses walking past them stopped. She turned to their table and gave Eroms a wide smile.


    ¡°Would you like some milkshake, sweetheart?¡± she asked.


    Eroms nodded.


    ¡°Alright, hun. I¡¯ll be back with that milkshake in a moment.¡±


    Delano gestured at the retreating girl with exaggerated dramatization. ¡°See! It¡¯s like they take one look at him and he¡¯s suddenly some god they should sacrifice their food to.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Melmarc mused, studying their friend. ¡°He might make a good pagan god. He¡¯s kind, wouldn¡¯t hurt a fly. And, most of all, he¡¯s put up with you for most of your lives. Sounds benevolent enough to me.¡±


    Delano snorted. ¡°Benevolent my ass. And just so you know, I¡¯ve put up with him, not the other way around.¡±


    Melmarc laughed and took another fork of pasta.


    On the table opposite them, a group of teenagers were having a conversation about one of the popular topics. There were five of them in total. Three boys and two girls who looked eerily alike, but also didn¡¯t look related.


    They wore varsity jackets but Melmarc doubted they were in college. They just didn¡¯t look it. He¡¯d seen a few of Ninra¡¯s friends in person and in pictures. They were not a lot, but they were enough to teach him that college had a look.


    But that wasn¡¯t his focus. He¡¯s attention was more on what one of them was saying. They were in a heated debate about a Gifted who was a criminal.


    Melmarc had already heard the news. Though he didn¡¯t know the entire detail, he knew bits and pieces from passing the living room enough times when uncle Dorthna had the news on.


    The Gifted was a woman who had fully embraced the super-villain concept. Like some of the government Delvers who played hero and fought against Gifted criminals that got too out of control and played dress-up for the sake of publicity, she also wore a costume of her own.


    She¡¯d struck three times in the last month and had never been caught on camera. From what one of the boys was saying, eye witnesses described her as a woman who wore a black mask with a hoodie that had the word ¡®Dying Light¡¯ emblazoned on the back.


    As far as comic book super villain costumes went, it wasn¡¯t much. But it was an identifier, so that was something.


    ¡°Stupid name, huh?¡±


    Melmarc looked away from the group to find their waitress was back. She placed an entire bowl of custard in front of Eroms and a milkshake beside it.


    Didn¡¯t she only ask if he wanted a milkshake?


    Was it some kind of marketing scheme where they would ask a customer if they wanted something just so they would bring extra and charge more?


    ¡°How much for those?¡± Melmarc asked the waitress as she moved to leave.


    She gave him a kind smile and made an unbothered gesture. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, hun. It¡¯s on the house.¡±


    Melmarc stared at her as she left.


    When she was gone, slipping behind the counter, Delano laughed.


    ¡°Creepy, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Melmarc agreed. It was very creepy. ¡°Eroms, have you ever considered¡ª¡±


    He stopped when he saw what was in front of their friend. He had a bowl of noodle in front of him, a cup of some fizzy drink, another bowl of custard, and a cup of milkshake.


    Melmarc was staring at the very definition of unhealthy. Curious for reasons he could not understand, he pushed his pasta forward.


    ¡°Would you like some pasta?¡± he asked, eyes narrowed.


    Eroms looked at him, then at the pasta he was offering. It was clear there was a test in the offer. Anyone could see it from a mile away.


    Eroms reached for the plate. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Melmarc was sure of it now, his friend couldn¡¯t say no to food. It hadn¡¯t been a bad thing before, but it was worrying now. He was always eating, always consuming something.


    The other day he joked about only eating Delano.


    Didn¡¯t he bite Delano yesterday.


    ¡°No way is this going to happen,¡± Delano protested suddenly.


    He smacked Eroms hand and pushed Melmarc¡¯s pasta back to him.


    ¡°If you¡¯re not going to finish your food, then keep the leftovers for the diner. I hear they sometimes reheat it and allow the homeless have it.¡±


    Melmarc paused, realizing he¡¯d actually allowed Eroms take his plate. It didn¡¯t make much sense. He was hungry, hadn¡¯t eaten today. And he wanted the pasta. Offering it had simply been a test to know if their friend could refuse food.


    So why did I let him have it?


    He shook the thought from his mind. ¡°That was weird.¡±


    ¡°I know right.¡± Delano chuckled. ¡°My theory is that he¡¯s eaten so much that he now has a gravitational pull. The food of the world just kind of revolves around him now. And it¡¯s stronger since he doesn¡¯t waste too much energy talking. I call it the Food of the World skill. All he needs now is to get a class and have the actual skill. Come to think of it, do you think there¡¯s a Food of the World skill? Sounds sketchy when I think about it.¡±


    ¡°I talk just fine,¡± Eroms grumbled, ignoring the question.


    ¡°See? He¡¯s barely said a complete paragraph since we got here.¡±


    That was true, but they already knew Eroms wasn¡¯t a talker. Melmarc knew kids had made fun of him a lot when he was younger for his size so he¡¯d always assumed their friend was just on the very timid side.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Delano said. ¡°Dying Light¡¯s a stupid name, don¡¯t you think. Like, what¡¯s the point? What¡¯s it supposed to symbolize? Do you think it¡¯s her Class?¡±


    Melmarc blinked, still in a bit of a daze from the food offering incident. ¡°Who¡¯s class?¡±


    ¡°The woman that keeps drowning people,¡± Eroms said. ¡°The one those guys were talking about.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc shook his head and picked up his fork again. ¡°Never heard of a class called Dying Light. So it¡¯s got to be a name she¡¯s given herself or something. It could be a skill, too. Those are harder to keep track of than classes.¡±


    ¡°Or it could be an Unranked class with only one known user.¡± Delano bit into a piece of pancake. ¡°Like Dragon-Knight. Or Omnipotent.¡±


    Or Demon Lord.


    Delano suddenly looked thoughtful. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s an Agility type? It would explain how she always moves so quickly. And just how strong do you think she might be? An A-rank? B-rank? Can¡¯t be an S-rank because that would just be a disaster.¡±


    There were no S-rank felons or criminals. At least none that had ever been caught or known of.


    ¡°C-rank?¡± Eroms suggested. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why she keeps attacking only one person.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t be an Agility type either.¡± Melmarc jumped in on the conversation. ¡°Agility types are mainly built for speed. She¡¯s likely an Intelligence type. Elementalist most likely since she¡¯s been drowning people.¡±


    Delano shook his head. ¡°Not an Elementalist. The Class allows you use things like water and fire at will. Unfortunately, she comes with her own bucket of water.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Uhh¡­ you¡¯re kidding, right?¡±


    Delano chuckled. ¡°I wish I wasn¡¯t.¡±


    He shuffled a bit, then brought out his phone from his pocket. He tapped in a few things, then turned it. On the screen was a metal bucket with a black hand print on one side.


    ¡°She literally comes with her own bucket,¡± Delano explained. ¡°She takes the victim and just shoves their head in it.¡±


    ¡°And no one¡¯s caught her on camera?¡± Melmarc took the phone from Delano. ¡°It takes a long time for a person to drown. There¡¯s no way no one¡¯s caught her on camera.¡±


    ¡°Oh, people have.¡± Delano took the phone and swiped left, then gave it back. ¡°That¡¯s what she looks like on camera.¡±


    Melmarc looked at the picture. ¡°It¡¯s a blur.¡±


    ¡°Yep. My theory is that she¡¯s an Agility type, most likely a speedster. It will explain why her victims drown too fast and she always looks like a blur on camera. Or she has a skill that distorts her image when captured on camera.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how a being a speedster helped drown someone faster. But there was always the possibility of some kind of skill intricacy. When it came to things like that, Delano was the lead expert between the both of them.


    ¡°So she¡¯s more like a serial killer?¡± he asked.


    ¡°She robbed a store,¡± Eroms added, as if it was a suggestion.


    Melmarc and Delano looked at him and he shrugged, picking up his milkshake.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying she robbed a store.¡±


    Delano nodded. ¡°So she¡¯s a serial killer and a thief¡­ And don¡¯t drink the milkshake now. Take it home with you.¡±


    Eroms thought about it, then put the drink back down.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± Delano took his phone back from Melmarc. ¡°That¡¯s how it is. If you ask me, I¡¯d say the media should start calling her black-hand on account of the hand print¡­ No. That one sounds cool. It will probably just motivate her. They should call her The Metal Bucket Killer.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow at him. ¡°She drowns people. She doesn¡¯t hit them with a metal bucket.¡±


    Delano shrugged, unbothered. ¡°Who says her name has to be cool or align with reality. That¡¯s the problem with the news and the police. All they do is give the bad guys cool names. Jack the ripper. The Night Stalker. Giggling Granny. Doctor Death. If someone gave me a cool name each time I killed a person, why would I want to stop?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t really have anything to say to that. Delano was right. He didn¡¯t think Jack the ripper would¡¯ve been very motivated if he was called Jack the Stripper.


    ¡°Who¡¯s the Giggling Granny?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Old woman.¡± Delano shrugged. ¡°She probably laughed a lot. But not my point. What I¡¯m getting at is Classes. If you got the chance to have powers, what type would you want?¡±


    Melmarc wondered how that was what he had been getting at.


    ¡°Gluttony.¡±


    Eroms¡¯ voice had so much certainty that it shocked them.


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve really thought about it,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the class that generally gets a power boost from whatever they feed on?¡± Delano asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°They differ based on which skill combination gets it, but yeah. Some of them are like mana drainers. They can suck out your mana if they touch you. Some get it from food. Some from plants. It¡¯s kind of a weird class. I heard there¡¯s a guy in Canada that gets it from consuming snow.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a Strength type?¡±


    ¡°It is.¡±


    Delano nodded. He looked from Eroms to the mini buffet in front of him.


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯m entirely surprised you¡¯d pick that. Me, I¡¯d pick an Agility type. Something like the Slasher class. Or the Assassin class. Make it hard to hit me.¡±


    Melmarc leaned back on his chair and thought about it. A few years ago his answer would¡¯ve been immediate. As a kid he¡¯d always loved the Intelligence class. They always gave him wizardly vibes. They were less brute force and more finesse, conjuring things to fight with.


    Elementalists fell under the Intelligence class. Conjuring fire or water or wind. They weren¡¯t limited to one element, though. They mostly just started out with one. Some Elementalists were known to diversify, get more elements under their control, while some chose to specialize.


    For instance, there was an Elementalist who¡¯d specialized and could now control liquid of almost any kind, not just water.


    But Melmarc was older now, and had lived life a little longer.


    ¡°I¡¯d pick the Juggernaut class,¡± he said.


    Delano and Eroms paused to stare at him. Delano spoke first.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°You never struck me as the Strength type kind of guy,¡± Delano said honestly. ¡°I always took you for an Intelligence class.¡±


    ¡°Like a Summoner class,¡± Eroms agreed. ¡°Maybe Warlock.¡±


    Delano nodded in agreement ¡°Or Mage.¡±


    Melmarc laughed.


    They held him to too much of a high esteem. People didn¡¯t want the Mage class. Not because it was weak or anything. The second ranked Delver in the world had the Mage class. The reason people didn¡¯t pick it was because it was a difficult class.


    From the little that was known about it, it had too many complications. But it was generally agreed that it was one of the most powerful classes.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Eroms asked.


    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± Delano replied.


    ¡°A Mage class. What¡¯s that?


    Delano chuckled happily. ¡°Oh, my fine fa¡ª¡±


    Eroms frowned at him and he back-tracked.


    ¡°¡ªOh, my fine grown friend. You don¡¯t know what the Mage class is?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head, smiling, and turned his attention back to his food.


    He knew more than the average boy about the Gifted and their classes because it was just the way he was. He could comfortably claim he knew more about them than Delano, despite his friend¡¯s unhealthy obsession.


    And the reason was simple. He gathered all the pieces of information he could easily find, which was actually everywhere for all to see as long as you were looking. But Delano didn¡¯t care about the simple information, he wanted the ones that felt like secrets.


    The ones that felt like the higher powers were intentionally suppressing information on.


    Though the Mage class was popular, specific information on it was very rare. Their skills were roundabout, and no one was willing to state for a fact what the skills really did.


    The only real information anyone knew was that the Mage was the only class that started out with four skills instead of the generally known two skills.


    As Melmarc continued eating his meal, Delano slipped into his conspiracy theorist persona quite comfortably.


    ¡°Let me tell you, Eroms, about the beautiful class that is the Mage.¡±

 SEVENTEEN: Cheap Knock-off

    There weren¡¯t a lot of Delvers who were Mages. Perhaps fifteen¡­ maybe twenty. Twenty-five would definitely be stretching it.


    The Class was one of the rare classes, and it had the least known information, right next to a class called Unbound.


    People loved the Mage class because most Mages turn out to be the strongest and most versatile Delvers. In fact, there was no known Mage below B-rank. And there was no known Mage that was not at least a Delver.


    There had been a point, maybe ten years ago when the government passed a law that mandated all with the Mage class to register as Delvers either with a company or under the employ of the government.


    It was easy to know that the law played a part in making people not want the class. There were, after all, a lot of people who despite how much power they were given, wouldn¡¯t want to risk their lives.


    ¡°So do you have any idea what I love most about the Mage?¡± Delano asked Eroms with a cocky smile.


    Eroms shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. You¡¯ve only told me that it¡¯s powerful and rare.¡±


    Melmarc snickered over his food and Delano shot him a glare.


    ¡°He has a point,¡± Melmarc defended himself. ¡°You¡¯ve practically told him nothing.¡±


    Delano let out a defeated sigh.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he conceded. ¡°The way it was supposed to go is, you make a random guess, obviously wrong, then I tell you that you¡¯re wrong, then go ahead to tell you how beautiful it is as a class.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t wrong. Not about the first part, the beautiful part. Mages, unlike other classes, made being Gifted look like an art.


    Delano settled back into his chair and broke down the entire process of what a Mage was.


    ¡°First thing you have to know,¡± he said, ¡°is that Mages don¡¯t use skills.¡±


    Well, that¡¯s a quick way to confuse him.


    ¡°But they¡¯re Gifted.¡± Eroms scratched his head. ¡°All Gifted have skills.¡±


    Delano raised his fork as if to stall their friend¡¯s confusion. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t say Mages don¡¯t have skills. I said they don¡¯t use skills. As Pullmyfinger2008 likes to say, ¡®Mages don¡¯t use skills, they cast spells.¡¯¡±


    Eroms looked from Delano to Melmarc.


    Melmarc smiled. ¡°He¡¯s trying to be poetic. Let him. It¡¯s not every time he gets to shine.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that I shine a lot. Thank you very much.¡± Delano placed his fork back on his table and forgot his last slice of pancake for a moment. ¡°Here¡¯s the thing about Mages. They say all the Gifted start off with two skills, but anyone who¡¯s really paying attention knows that a Mage gets four. The only problem is that they are difficult.¡±


    ¡°Four doesn¡¯t sound very difficult,¡± Eroms mused. ¡°It sounds better than two.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. But it¡¯s difficult. When you see a Mage fight, it looks beautiful and amazing. And that¡¯s how you know it¡¯s difficult. A juggernaut,¡± Delano shot Melmarc a quick glare, ¡°just runs into things and breaks them.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget high physical damage resistance,¡± Melmarc interjected.


    ¡°They are slow tanks. Glorified boulders. Anyway, back to the important Delvers. When a Mage fights its colorful, beautiful. And powerful. They get four skills that give them what we in the community like to think gives them total mastery over mana.¡±


    ¡°But all Gifted have mastery over mana,¡± Eroms said.


    Delano was losing him and he knew it.


    ¡°Gifted have mastery over mana. Yes. But a Mage potentially has total mastery over mana. All this is because of one type of skill they all have in common. They are called World skills¡­ And don¡¯t ask me what world skills are. No one knows for certain, not even the Mages.¡±


    ¡°All we know about them is that they are skills with the word ¡®World¡¯ in them,¡± Melmarc helped.


    Delano picked his fork and pointed it at him. ¡°My story, not yours, Juggernaut.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re really not going to forgive me for that, are you?¡±


    ¡°Pay for my meal and we¡¯ll talk.¡±


    Melmarc chuckled.


    Delano hated the Strength classes.


    Well, hate was a strong word. He just didn¡¯t like them. He said they reminded him of jocks. They were all muscles and no brains. It was a public stereotype, and Delano happily subscribed to it.


    He didn¡¯t discriminate against the individual, though, just the class. They were useful¡­ for breaking things only.


    On the other side of the table, Delano continued to explain the beauty that was a Mage.


    ¡°Another thing you should remember,¡± he was telling Eroms, ¡°is that all Mages have a World skill, but not all Gifted with a World skill are Mages.¡±


    Melmarc watched some of Eroms confusion alleviate. Which was odd. If he was being honest, that explanation didn¡¯t do anything.


    It only mattered in context.


    ¡°And World skills are tricky,¡± Delano continued. ¡°They are powerful, all of them, but not always for fighting. The community I¡¯m in speculates that just the way people get one skill and one supporting skill, World skills serve as the supporting skills somehow. Take for example, Nezu in Tokyo. He has the World skill Fate of the World that grants him clairvoyance. People go to him to try and divine outcomes.¡±


    ¡°Divine is a strong word,¡± Melmarc muttered.


    Delano shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s the word I¡¯ll use. As I was saying, when he was younger, companies in Japan and all over the world would invite him to join their delving team anytime an A rank or S rank portal opened. He had the ability to see a possible future. According to him, it wasn¡¯t a certain future, only a possible one. And it wasn¡¯t always clear. Back then he could more like feel the outcomes.¡±


    Eroms had regained interest in his food since some of his confusion had left him. He picked up his milkshake, then dropped it. He picked up his other drink instead.


    He took a good gulp. ¡°If he could see the future, why would he have to enter the portal. He could just tell them what was happening.¡±


    ¡°Because¡ªand I¡¯m just paraphrasing Nezu here¡ªthe other side of the portal is another world. Or at least they stand on the principles of other worlds. There¡¯s always been knowledge that the portals lead to other worlds but there were people who argued they were like pseudo worlds, fake imaginations slapped together by mana phenomenon. Nezu put all that to rest with those words.¡±


    ¡°Some guy came and said ¡®the portals are other worlds¡¯ and everyone just believes,¡± Eroms said. ¡°Sounds stupid.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Delano stabbed the last slice of his pancake with his fork but didn¡¯t eat it. ¡°But that¡¯s how much they trust Nezu¡¯s skills. Apparently, he couldn¡¯t see the future of what happened inside the portal because it was another world. To see the outcome, he needed to be in that other world.


    ¡°So he would go in with the team and see their future. But we all know you can¡¯t come out of a portal until you¡¯ve cleared the portal¡¯s quest or failed it outright. Those are the only ways the portal quest can be handled.¡±


    Or you die.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t say it out loud. There was no reason to.


    ¡°There are other ways.¡± Delano made a dismissive gesture. ¡°But they are not important. So what Nezu did was that he entered with them, felt or saw their outcome and worked with them to prevent any negative ones.¡±


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°So he couldn¡¯t fight?¡± Eroms asked.


    ¡°Not with the skill, not in the beginning. He started out as an A-rank, but now that he¡¯s an S-rank he definitely knows how to fight with it. No one knows what his other skills are, but back then he could only see the fate at the end of a situation if he took some time to use the skill. But now he uses it when he fights. He uses it to predict what you¡¯re going to do next and counters.


    ¡°Personally, I think he has Let Me Dance Again. It¡¯s a skill that¡¯s known to max out your agility. It¡¯s the only explanation for how he can react so quickly, even when he¡¯s fighting someone of an equal rank.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve not heard any magick-y thing yet,¡± Eroms said. ¡°Is he not a Mage?¡±


    Delano shook his head. ¡°Nope. He has the Seer class. It¡¯s a non-combat class. They usually play team support. But the class has draw-backs. Any Seer will tell you that their prediction ability is fifty percent. It¡¯s kind of like a disclaimer. That¡¯s why Nezu¡¯s so sought after. He¡¯s got around a ninety percent accuracy.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s a World skill that¡¯s not a Mage. What of Mages? And why do they have skills but use spells?¡±


    ¡°They use spells because they tap directly into the mana in the world. So they can manipulate it to some extent. Inevitability said that for a Mage, their body is like a container they can expand to contain more mana, and their World skill gives them the ability to manipulate the mana of their choice. For example, if a juggernaut wanted to get into a room without a door, they¡¯d run into the wall and burst out of the other side. But a Mage would make the wall disassemble. Then they could just reassemble it when they get to the other side.¡±


    ¡°Sounds powerful, but why is it complicated?¡±


    ¡°Because their skills are all designed around each other,¡± Melmarc answered before Delano could. ¡°They are the only Class that never use only one skill. A juggernaut,¡± he stuck his tongue out at Delano, ¡°could just use a skill like Body of Stone and break through the wall. But a Mage would need at least two skills to do it. Maybe he¡¯ll have to use one that makes things have a lighter atomic structure somehow, then use another to unbind their physical integrity, then disassemble it with some disassembling skill for a finisher.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d just break through the wall,¡± Eroms said blandly.


    Delano shot Melmarc another glare.


    ¡°What?¡± he said with a shrug. ¡°I wasn¡¯t a part of the conversation, and I was getting bored. Besides, you told him it was a complicated Class but you weren¡¯t telling him why. Almost all their skills are dependent on each other. If a Mage has a skill that pushes things, you can almost be certain he also has a skill that pulls things.¡±


    Merlmac twirled his pasta with his fork. ¡°What makes them truly amazing is their high intelligence stat. It allows them do all these things in the blink of an eye so you don¡¯t know how much they put into it. And they have a lot of mana so they just go on and on.¡±


    If he was being honest, despite how powerful they were on an average, they weren¡¯t really all that. What gave them their fame was the mystery and the number of skills in the beginning. There was a blog Delano had shown him once that speculated that they had more than four skills because the World skill somehow didn¡¯t count as a skill.


    The same blog also claimed the actual world gave them the skill. So he wouldn¡¯t go quoting the blogger anywhere. According to the blogger, since skills were people¡¯s manifestation of what they were capable of, being given a skill didn¡¯t count.


    And since the world gave World skills, they didn¡¯t count.


    Personally, he found the Unbound class more interesting, and mysterious. There were only two known Gifted with the class. And one of them was the highest ranked Delver.


    No one knew how many skills it started with, and no one knew what skills it had. It was a complete enigma, and the two Delvers who had it said nothing about it.


    All the world knew was that it was an Agility type.


    His friends were still talking, and Melmarc had all but gone back to his meal with his full attention while Delano educated Eroms on the intricacies of being a Mage. He told him of a Mage who had been happy to tell the world the name of his world skill Name of the World. Apparently, it gave him mastery over all inanimate things as long as he could figure out their name.


    It was a weird thing since the name of a rock wasn¡¯t ¡®rock.¡¯ And a rock on the ground wasn¡¯t very likely to have the same name as one on a roof. It was all too complicated when you went into the deeper intricacies of it. But it worked well for the Delver so that was something.


    ¡°What of Faker?¡± Eroms asked suddenly, mid-way through Delano¡¯s explanation.


    Delano paused. ¡°A Faker¡¯s a glorified road side magician.¡±


    That was putting it too harshly.


    Melmarc¡¯s opinion on it must¡¯ve shown on his face because Delano sighed and corrected himself.


    ¡°Alright, not necessarily a glorified road side magician. It¡¯s an okay Class. Sure. But it¡¯s a bit of an odd Class. Some people call it a low budget Mage. Like the Swordmaster Class is to the Knight Class.¡±


    Eroms simply stared at him.


    Melmarc looked between the both of them. ¡°You might have to expand on that, D. I think you lost him.¡±


    Delano shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s really not much to explain. The Swordmaster¡¯s main thing is mastery over the use of swords. The Knight class has that, too, as well as mastery over shields. And increased strength. Basically, it¡¯s the Swordmaster plus more.¡±


    ¡°And the Faker and Mage?¡± Eroms asked.


    ¡°They¡¯re basically the same thing. Faker¡¯s are¡­¡± Delano snapped his fingers as if he¡¯d just remembered something. ¡°That¡¯s it! Fakers are just glorified mimics.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to object to that, too.


    ¡°No.¡± Delano pointed a warning finger at him. ¡°You can¡¯t refute that.¡± He turned back to Eroms. ¡°A Faker is exactly what the name says. A fake. They¡¯re like mimics that just go around learning to do what other people can do and forgetting. Because of that they kind of have that similarity to Mages in the way they use a lot of skills when they fight.


    ¡°But there are downsides. They can¡¯t fake just any skill. Strength based skills are tough for them because a Faker can¡¯t just fake a Juggernaut¡¯s skill and run through a wall like its paper. They aren¡¯t very mysterious either, and there aren¡¯t that many of them, definitely more of them than Mages, but they do have their uses. They¡¯re good in a team fight, that¡¯s for sure. But then, they become useless if they are matched up poorly.


    ¡°Take it from me. If you get a Class and its Faker, you¡¯re basically in deep shit.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t entirely agree.


    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him, Eroms. It¡¯s really not that bad.¡± Faker wouldn¡¯t be Melmarc¡¯s first pick but it wasn¡¯t like it was horrible as a Class. ¡°The reason he doesn¡¯t like Faker is because people who are secretive like him don¡¯t like Faker.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ For starters, it¡¯s more of a support Class. A Faker can¡¯t necessarily lead their team, per se. Copying skills isn¡¯t the only thing they can do, some of them have a skill that helps them survive on their own, even if it¡¯s not a skill that will help them excel. People just don¡¯t like them because people don¡¯t like seeing other people using their skill.¡±


    Eroms still looked confused.


    ¡°Okay, look at it like this,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Imagine you join a company, or the government, and they put you in a team. Now imagine you¡¯re the type that likes to keep his skills a secret. Let¡¯s say some of your skills aren¡¯t very obvious, and you¡¯d like to keep it that way. Then boom, there¡¯s a Faker on your team. Depending on how their skills work, and how yours work, they might be able to copy your skill. Which means they now know your skill and your secret is out.¡±


    Delano nodded. ¡°It¡¯s part of the reasons Mages don¡¯t like Fakers.¡±


    ¡°And a Faker is only good for group battles, and they¡¯re only as useful as how quickly they can make the skill their own, and for how long.¡±


    ¡°Again. The wrong matchup pretty much makes a Faker useless.¡± Delano picked up his last piece of pancake and ate it. ¡°For me, you might as well go with a Mage. Why take a cheap knock off?¡±


    With their conversation basically summarized, they made quick work of what was left on their plates.


    Following Delano¡¯s advice, Eroms took his milkshake to go.


    When they asked the waitress for the bill, Delano had another fit over people¡¯s love for giving Eroms food when the waitress charged them for theirs and told them Eroms¡¯ meal was on the house.


    ¡°It¡¯s just not fair,¡± he complained as they left the diner. ¡°He basically ate thrice what we ate. Combined.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t necessarily see any reason to be worried by it. It was certainly a mystery, but not a problem. It wasn¡¯t like Eroms was getting unhealthily large or anything. He still looked the same as usual. And it wasn¡¯t like people were literally endangering themselves to feed him.


    I did give him my pasta even though I was hungry, though.


    That was something.


    But we were literally in a diner, and it wasn¡¯t like I was starving. I could¡¯ve just ordered another plate.


    Rather than take a cab, they walked the rest of the journey.


    They talked about mundane things as they did. Delano¡¯s dad was going out of town for the weekend for some work, and Eroms¡¯ family was going to some nudist camp. They were a bit on the eccentric side, but they didn¡¯t make their children join in.


    While they had an all vegan diet, their kids were free to choose. When they took kale or some all vegan beverage, Eroms was right beside them biting into some juicy piece of meat or something.


    It was the same way with his siblings. If you wanted to join in on their eccentricities, they had no problems with it. But they did have limits.


    For instance, occasions like their nudist camp getaway was non-negotiable. None of their kids could join. They had a standing rule for those. Their children could only willingly engage when they were twenty-one.


    ¡°We¡¯re still going for the school excursion, right?¡± Eroms asked as they parted ways.


    Melmarc thought about it. He wasn¡¯t one for excursions, but he was one for opportunities to hang with his friends.


    But with Ark getting a Class it was likely that the house might get a little busy once their parents came back.


    ¡°Remind me,¡± he said. ¡°When¡¯s the trip?¡±


    ¡°In a week.¡± Delano was holding Eroms by the back of the shirt as if the boy would wander off if he didn¡¯t hold on to him. ¡°We¡¯re going to the African museum in Boston. We¡¯ll be staying at some guy¡¯s famous mansion, and I¡¯m really looking forward taking a look around the place.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t understand the emphasis on the word. It wasn¡¯t like his friend was an enthusiast for such things. Well, he was more interested in something different.


    ¡°Is it really in Boston or are you saying Boston because you can¡¯t pronounce Massachusetts correctly?¡±


    ¡°Bite your teeth.¡± Delano flipped him off with his ring finger, and he laughed.


    ¡°But yeah,¡± Delano continued. ¡°It¡¯s not Boston, but it¡¯s close to Boston so it¡¯s a win. And a win¡¯s a win. So we¡¯re going, right? All three of us.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll ask my uncle. If my parents aren¡¯t back in a week, then it¡¯s here or there.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s parents didn¡¯t like him or his siblings traveling while both of them were away. Because, for one thing, they couldn¡¯t call them to get permission. But uncle Dorthna had some authority over such decisions so Melmarc found himself calculating how best to convince his uncle to agree.


    ¡°See you then.¡± Delano waved. He turned away and Eroms followed him after a wave of his own.


    ¡°And don¡¯t go running into buildings without doors,¡± Delano added over his shoulders.


    Beside him Eroms asked, confused. ¡°Are there buildings without doors?¡±

 EIGHTEEN: Good Ol Uncle Dorthna

    Surprisingly, uncle Dorthna was more than happy to let Melmarc go on the excursion. He didn¡¯t even give it much thought.


    Melmarc asked when he got home, Dorthna tapped his cheek with a finger for all of two seconds and said yes.


    ¡°What about mom and dad?¡± Melmarc asked.


    He wasn¡¯t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever that meant, but suspicious was suspicious. And he knew suspicious when it answered quickly.


    Dorthna waved the question aside with his usual nonchalance. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with them. Besides, what makes you think they¡¯ll say no?¡±


    ¡°Because they¡¯re not around. And they tell Ark no all the time.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s Ark. Ark¡¯s always trying to go somewhere. You, on the hand, never go out.¡± He tapped his cheek again with a single finger. ¡°Come to think of it, I¡¯d bet my last dollar on them being happy to hear you have an interest in leaving the house for more than a day¡­ How long¡¯s this school trip going to be?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Maybe a weekend.¡±


    Honestly, he didn¡¯t know. The one the school had organized last year had gone on for a week, and parents and legal guardians had been required to fill some forms. He was merely making an educated assumption.


    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Dorthna mused. ¡°The one your brother went for two years ago was like what¡­ two weeks?¡±


    It had been two weeks. And Ark had loved it. He had made his relationship with his girlfriend official during the trip. Other fun things had happened but that one was Ark¡¯s personal highlight. His favorite.


    Melmarc had prepared a whole argument for this conversation. Now he was stumped. He hadn¡¯t expected it to be this easy.


    The rest of the conversation was quick. Simple. He had questions and Dorthna had answers


    Who was going to sign the forms? Good ol¡¯ uncle Dorthna.


    How was he going to sign it? He was their legal guardian.


    How was he their legal guardian if their parents were still around? It was a Delver thing, he wouldn¡¯t understand.


    What if the school also didn¡¯t understand? He knew his parent¡¯s signature.


    Sometimes it was easy to forget that while Dorthna wasn¡¯t an irresponsible adult. He wasn¡¯t exactly a straight-laced uncle.


    He did teach Ark how to pick a lock.


    The weeks before the trip were eventful, in a manner of speaking. Ark¡¯s excitement at being gifted remained through the roof throughout, and when Ninra was told of the update, she was genuinely happy for him.


    ¡°I guess being Spitfire¡¯s favorite pays off,¡± she¡¯d said, eyeing the little demon. ¡°Kinda had to, because there¡¯s no way I would suffer all those bites.¡±


    As for Spitfire, the little thing remained a quite menace.


    At some point Ninra speculated on what would happen if it gave all of them powers. Melmarc would be lying if he said the idea didn¡¯t stay in his head for longer than was healthy.


    But it wouldn¡¯t be possible. They were sure all the biting had something to do with getting powers, and Spitfire bit only Ark. Every other person might as well be alive to occupy space as far as it was concerned, and it continued to remain that way.


    As for Ark, uncle Dorthna developed a bit of a schedule for him. He would wake up in the morning and they would go on a jog. Melmarc and Ninra joined in on it if not for anything but a chance at the morning air.


    For the first few minutes, Dorthna would keep pace with them, then he would increase it, forcing Ark to keep up. The entire thing was for Ark after all. In a matter of minutes, Ninra and Melmarc would be left behind.


    Being a Demon Lord had given Ark a few physical boosts that left him easily above human standards¡­ or at least above the physical standards of a seventeen-year-old. And since uncle Dorthna had already told them it was to be expected, Melmarc tried not to let it get to him too much.


    Ninra quit after just a few days, but Melmarc continued the morning runs. Why? Simple stubbornness. He could so he did.


    After the morning runs, uncle Dorthna would give Ark some time to rest. He¡¯d made it clear that the schedule was for Ark even if Melmarc tagged along.


    Then he would take them in his car to a place just outside their neighborhood. It was a few blocks away, located in an area populated more by gyms and training areas than anything else.


    The first time Melmarc saw the place, he knew its purpose.


    It was a large building, squared and boring, like a cardboard box. It had a single door that led inside through the front and a single door that led out through the back. There were no windows to let the sun in or peep out of.


    The inside was just as mundane as the outside. It was a wide hall with steel colored walls. The flooring was made of something Melmarc didn¡¯t know. It didn¡¯t feel like concrete, and it wasn¡¯t wood.


    When he knocked it, it gave no sound. The walls were similar. Where the floor was quiet and soundless, the walls were a bit off. He wouldn¡¯t call them soundless, but they didn¡¯t make noise.


    It was as if they transported the sound somehow. When it was hit, it would give a light thud, like something falling on a pillow. Then it had a little oomf that would travel along the walls until it stopped existing.


    The first time it happened, uncle Dorthna walked up to the wall and gave it a light knock of his own.


    ¡°Fiber glass,¡± he¡¯d said. ¡°Distributes impact and sound until its technically nothing. Think of it as a stealth, everything-proof wall.¡±


    Melmarc knew fiber glass. It was one of the materials that came out of portals. There were stones of different kinds, and materials that were used for different things. Some of these things were magical, and others were simply a bit more advanced than normal.


    Ark had jumped a few times, then stamped his foot on the ground. ¡°And this?¡±


    ¡°Same thing.¡±


    ¡°But why doesn¡¯t it make any sound, while this,¡± Melmarc knocked the wall, ¡°gives a little.¡±


    ¡°More areas to distribute the sound to. The flooring literally distributes the sound downwards until it hits the foundation and just runs into the ground. You can kind of hear the wall because it¡¯s being distributed along the four corners. But you don¡¯t hear the ground because it¡¯s traveling all the way down. By the time most of the sound¡¯s gone, it¡¯s too far for you to hear.¡±


    Melmarc looked around the wide, empty room. It was lit by LED lights on the ceiling. ¡°No pillars.¡±


    Dorthna nodded as Ark looked around in confirmation.


    ¡°No pillars. They would defeat the purpose of the room.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, then turned his attention to one corner of the room where a simple boxing bag as tall as the average man was resting.


    ¡°So, I just go and sit there?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it will be that bad, but farther is always better.¡±


    Ark was already stretching, loosening himself up.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Melmarc and their uncle watched him for a while before Melmarc finally turned and gave them some space.


    The hall was a training space that wasn¡¯t necessarily abandoned, but was simply rarely used. The building had no locks on the doors and there was nothing to steal from it.


    According to Dorthna, there was at least one in every state left for general use. Their purpose was for the Gifted to learn their skills in safe environments. At least those that couldn¡¯t afford high end facilities.


    Since the number of Gifted often found in a town were always on the low side, and the Gifted generally made good money, it was rarely used. So normal people did visit it from time to time for one reason or the other.


    But its main purpose was for the Gifted.


    Here, uncle Dorthna supervised Ark¡¯s understanding of his skills. It was quick. It was simple. And they always went at it until Ark could go no more.


    Breath of Fire was exactly what the name suggested. When Ark opened his mouth, he would let out a stream of fire that shot forth somewhere between three to ten feet. The farthest he¡¯d recorded was twelve feet, and that had been pushing it.


    When asked, he said it felt more like a Strength based skill than an intelligence based skill that depended more on mana. It was like using a new organ and depended on how much air he could hold in his lungs.


    It did drain his mana, but that was nothing unexpected. All active skills drained mana. There was yet to be a Gifted that claimed they had an active skill that didn¡¯t.


    The skill Will of Hades was a bit different. It gave fire resistance to a degree. They tested it with a few things. A match stick lit under his arm, and a lighter.


    Ark¡¯s take on it was that he felt as if he was simply being touched with a finger. There was pressure but no heat. It also felt the same way when he used Breath of Fire. Like something was touching the inside of his mouth. It wasn¡¯t ticklish, it was just present.


    Dorthna had nodded.


    ¡°That sounds cool. But don¡¯t go thinking you¡¯re invincible around fire. It¡¯s heat and fire resistance not immunity. I¡¯m sure if the flame is hot enough, it¡¯ll do damage. Magical flames will definitely hurt, but maybe not as much as it should.¡±


    It turned out that Will of Hades had another use, though.


    After stopping by the training spot a few times, Ark found out he had a certain level of fire control. At first he¡¯d thought it was simply the flame of the match stick or lighter flickering, but it was not.


    To be sure, he¡¯d need a larger flame source. Their burner at home was the going choice.


    A few days before the school trip, Melmarc sat at the backyard with Ark.


    The evening was cold and they had their jackets on. Ninra was somewhere in her room doing things girls her age did while uncle Dorthna was out. He said he was going to get some groceries before leaving.


    Ark and Melmarc sat watching Spitfire. The garden was covered in snow Melmarc was sure Ark was supposed to have handled when they came back from his training today.


    Spitfire danced about in the snow, not bothered by the cold. If it was, it at least wasn¡¯t showing it.


    ¡°You know you really shouldn¡¯t be worried,¡± Ark gave him a gentle look.


    Melmarc took a moment to look away from Spitfire. ¡°Worried?¡±


    Ark nodded.


    ¡°Worried. I¡¯ve known you your whole life. Do you think I can¡¯t tell when something¡¯s bothering you?¡±


    Melmarc nodded, then looked back to Spitfire. The creature was rubbing itself in the snow like a cat. It wasn¡¯t purring though.


    In the past few weeks it had grown a tiny bit. But it¡¯s horns were now more pronounced, curving upwards from both sides of its head. Each was a deep black, making a sharp contrast to it¡¯s orange skin.


    With the horns it was beginning to look like a proper baby demon. It was kind of funny how they hadn¡¯t noticed it.


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying,¡± Ark continued after a while. ¡°We¡¯ve already established that the whole two Gifted parents only get one Gifted child thing is whack.¡±


    ¡°I thought you believed in it.¡±


    ¡°I did, when I thought you¡¯d be the one getting powers.¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°Then I got powers and went to look it up, really look it up.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed at that. Ark wouldn¡¯t read anything unless he had to. He¡¯d read school work, but only when there was a test or an exam. Apart from that, the only thing he ever read were comic books.


    Melmarc would¡¯ve sworn Ark didn¡¯t even read sign posts.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Ark dipped his gloved hand in a lump of snow close to his leg and gathered a handful. ¡°Even if it was true, it wouldn¡¯t still count in this instance.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡±


    ¡°Because if we¡¯re being honest, I¡¯m not the Gifted child.¡±


    Melmarc disagreed. ¡°You do have the powers, though.¡±


    ¡°Also not true.¡± Ark held a molded snowball in his hand now. ¡°Well, not technically true. If we¡¯re talking about me having powers. Bitey over there,¡±¡ªhe pitched the snowball at Spitfire¡ª¡°gave them to me.¡±


    Spitfire abandoned whatever it was doing. In a display of predatory skills it never used, it leapt into the air and bit into the snowball, shattering it on impact.


    When it landed, there was snow all over its head and it gave a full body shake to scatter it.


    ¡°The Demon Lord¡¯s contracted Demon prince,¡± Ark chuckled. ¡°Still kind of dreading telling dad.¡±


    Melmarc had almost forgotten about that. It had been about two weeks since Ark had gotten his powers and their parents hadn¡¯t returned from their deployment. He hoped they were alright.


    They always came back. But sometimes he remembered the night their mother had almost died without even being deployed, and he worried.


    ¡°The trick is having uncle D with you, or preferably mom. That way you get only the face, and none of the words.¡±


    ¡°You think he¡¯ll be disappointed?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Worried, maybe. But not disappointed. He knows people don¡¯t get to choose their Class. And he already knew Spitfire was a demon and didn¡¯t tell us. So, if we¡¯re being unfair, it¡¯s kind of his fault too.¡±


    Ark laughed. ¡°Let me see you tell him that when he¡¯s got a full expression on.¡±


    ¡°Very funny. Sorry to break it to you, but I probably won¡¯t be there for it. I¡¯ll ask Ninra to make a video if she¡¯s still around. Maybe she can post it. Call it ¡®Demon Lord meets Demon Dad.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Ark adjusted so that he sat facing Melmarc. ¡°What do you mean you probably won¡¯t be there? Are you eloping with some girlfriend I don¡¯t know about?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? I¡¯ve got the school trip thing to attend, remember?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. The school trip.¡± Ark readjusted. ¡°I completely forgot about that. You never go for those, even when I ask you to tag along.¡±


    ¡°Because your class usually goes for their own field trip. And as much as I care about my big brother¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just say you love me, Mel. No need to be shy about it.¡±


    Mel smiled. ¡°As much as I care about my big brother, I¡¯m not going to be seated on a bus with a bunch of his classmates. It¡¯ll be awkward.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because what do I say to them? That you help me with my math homework, and I¡¯m on a trip with them because my brother wanted me to come?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°That will be lame. We¡¯ll resume next semester and your classmates will spread rumors about how you have a lame younger brother with no friends.¡±


    ¡°They probably wouldn¡¯t,¡± Ark disagreed. ¡°They know I have an itchy trigger fist.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you mean trigger finger?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Ark raised his hand in a threatening fist. ¡°I mean an itchy trigger fist. It¡¯s always cocked and loaded. Just waiting.¡±


    ¡°Is that your IED talking again?¡±


    Ark grinned. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t go around hitting people just because they deserve it. Sometimes Delano deserves a good punch when he opens his mouth but you don¡¯t see people hitting him all the time.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± Ark mused. ¡°I¡¯ve heard him talk, and I¡¯m always in awe of how he doesn¡¯t have a broken nose. Or a missing tooth.¡±


    In front of them Spitfire was eyeing one of the flower beds. Melmarc wondered if they should be bothered. It looked as if it was gauging the distance between itself and the flower bed. It had never rushed into them before, but for all they knew it could pick this moment to realize it¡¯s also got Breath of Fire.


    ¡°But really, though,¡± Ark said, drawing him away from his thoughts. ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing to worry about. There¡¯s some guy in Japan with the ability to see the future and he¡¯s got like eighteen children with four wives. Twelve of the kids are gifted so it¡¯s obviously not one Gifted child to Gifted parents. I heard all his wives are Gifted, though, so I¡¯m kind of surprised they all agreed to marry him.¡±


    Melmarc had the answer to that. ¡°They¡¯re all not very strong. I think the strongest one got a D-rank Class. Off the top of my head I think it was the Chef class. She¡¯s really good with a knife, but I think her skills only activate when she¡¯s in the kitchen.¡±


    Ark winced. ¡°I guess that¡¯s another thing people need to worry about. Imagine getting a class that allows you blow perfect bubble animals.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure one of the Sculptor classes should have that.¡±


    ¡°I guess the person would be really fun at parties.¡±


    Ark stared back out into the snow filled garden.


    ¡°Mom and dad could always have another kid,¡± Melmarc said after a while. ¡°That could be their Gifted child.¡±


    Ark snorted. ¡°You¡¯re sixteen, Mel. If your parents wanted to have another kid, I¡¯m sure they would¡¯ve had it by now. I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯re the only brother I¡¯m getting, and Ninra¡¯s the only sister we¡¯re getting.¡±


    They sat together for a little longer while Spitfire continued to play in the snow, and with the snow.


    Melmarc appreciated what Ark had done. His brother always had the wildest faith in him. It was a nice thing to know, and it made him smile just a little bit as they watched Spitfire. It gave him some hope.


    But hope was a dangerous thing.


    ¡°Can you watch Spitfire for me for a little bit,¡± Ark said after sometime, getting up from the back porch. ¡°I need to go get a comic. I love you, but just sitting with you and staring¡¯s getting kinda boring.¡±


    He went up to the back door and paused.


    ¡°Also, just putting this out there, but don¡¯t go getting any skills while I¡¯m gone.¡±


    Melmarc laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll try my best.¡±


    ¡°If you must, and you do, please make sure it isn¡¯t something boring like Swordmaster.¡±


    Melmarc looked at him, appalled. ¡°Swordmaster¡¯s a cool class. Not that I¡¯m saying I want it.¡±


    ¡°No, it used to be cool. But now it¡¯s just boring. Everyone¡¯s just getting knife classes. Swordmaster. Knight. Samurai. Everyone¡¯s using sharp tools now, so it¡¯s kind of generic. Maybe try and get the Basher Class. Now that would be terrifying. Demon Lord and Skull Basher working side by side.¡±


    Melmarc stared at his brother and chuckled. ¡°We sound like super villains from one of your comics.¡±


    ¡°No. We sound like cool super villains from one of my comic books.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve got it. Now go get your comic book before I change my mind and leave your pet out to freeze to death.¡±


    ¡°Our pet,¡± Ark corrected, then darted inside.


    With Ark gone, Melmarc turned back to keep watch of Spitfire. He found the demon staring at him.


    It just stood there, on both hind legs like a human, forward legs down, like a cat¡¯s. It was staring at him.


    ¡°What?¡± Melmarc asked, scratching an itch on his stomach through his jacket. ¡°Was it something I said?¡±


    The itch grew, and he scratched it some more. It worried him a little since it had been over two years since his scar had itched him like this.


    Must be the weather.

 NINETEEN: Anomaly Detected

    Ark had returned with one of many comics in his hand. Melmarc didn¡¯t recognize it so it was most likely a new one.


    Spitfire was still staring at him and his scar still itched.


    Ark took one look at Spitfire and laughed.


    ¡°I leave him with you for a whole minute and you already have him thinking he¡¯s human. Way to go.¡±


    Melmarc laughed along, and scratched harder. It was kinda nice. The scratching.


    ¡°Trust me, I had nothing to do with that. It just got up the moment you left.¡±


    ¡°Of course it did.¡± Ark stepped down from the porch and stood beside him. ¡°Wanna see something cool?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged.


    Ark raised his hand in Spitfire¡¯s direction, palm facing down. The demon looked at him immediately. Sure that he had its attention, he lowered his palm.


    Spitfire followed Ark¡¯s hand until it was back down on all fours. Then Ark dropped his hand.


    It shook its body as if suddenly back to its senses, then came up to Ark as he sat down. It rubbed its horned head against his leg then balled itself up at his feet.


    Melmarc had to admit it was impressive.


    ¡°When¡¯d you learn how to do that?¡±


    ¡°No idea. I think it came with the Class. Last night, instead of picking one of your clothes from the laundry basket, it went for one of your shirts in the closet.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped and he actually stopped scratching. ¡°Please tell me it wasn¡¯t the blue ¡®I love NY.¡¯ Please say it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡±


    Melmarc let out a relieved sigh. His itch picked up again and he resumed scratching.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t any of them. I just pointed at it because I wanted it to stop, and it did. I think I just have to think what I want and make a gesture and I¡¯m good. Also, should I be worried about that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡± Melmarc made a conscious effort to stop scratching so furiously. ¡°It just itches a little.¡±


    Ark bent his head as if to get a better look. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like a little from where I¡¯m sitting. Should I get uncle D?¡±


    Melmarc willed himself to stop, and actually did.


    ¡°I thought uncle D went out.¡±


    ¡°He did. But I¡¯ve got this amazing thing called a cellphone. People use it to call other people that are not close to them.¡±


    Melmarc smacked Ark on the arm. ¡°Bite your teeth.¡±


    Ark flinched away from it, laughing. ¡°I swear, you and your friends come up with the strangest phrases for things. Bite your teeth instead of shut up. Who even came up with that?¡±


    ¡°Delano.¡±


    In truth, he¡¯d actually wanted to tell Eroms not to bite his tongue when he had been trying to pronounce a long word and had said teeth instead of tongue. It had just kind of stuck from then on, and for a different meaning.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re good?¡± Ark asked, worried. ¡°You¡¯re scratching again.¡±


    Melmarc looked down and realized he was. He didn¡¯t even know when he¡¯d started. But it was also just so sweet.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t want me to tell uncle D, you can just get your insurance card and I can drive you to the hospital. I¡¯m sure we can get an ointment or something for it.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t want an ointment or anything. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. It acts up like this sometimes. It¡¯ll go soon enough. Probably just the weather.¡±


    ¡°If you say so. I¡¯m just worried is all.¡±


    It was understandable. Unfortunately, Melmarc didn¡¯t know how to remind his brother that there wasn¡¯t really anything for a magic scar left over from a magic injury inflicted by the skill of a magic bad guy on a child in the hospital.


    Chances were that they had an ointment for it. But it would be an ointment for itches not whatever the underlying issue really was.


    But that¡¯s better than nothing.


    But he didn¡¯t get his card, and they didn¡¯t go to the hospital. Instead, Melmarc fought the battle of stopping himself with nothing but his sheer force of will. It was a trying battle, but victory favored the determined¡­ sometimes.


    At least it favored him today.


    Spitfire still gave him odd glances now and again but it was never anything serious. At least it didn¡¯t stand on only two legs and look at him. So he took that as a good thing.


    Uncle Dorthna returned home, and they had to go in. They dusted the snow from their feet and legs and left the back yard with Spitfire in tow.


    Life proceeded along, and the day of the school trip dragged on.


    Two nights before the trip, Melmarc woke up. It was the middle of the night. His eyes simply opened. It was sudden, immediate, but not stressful.


    He didn¡¯t know what woke him, but he couldn¡¯t say he was displeased to be awake. He had been having one of those dreams where you found out one of your leg was shorter than the other and it was making it difficult to walk or do anything really.


    He stared at the ceiling for a while.


    The room was lit since the lights were on because Ark couldn¡¯t sleep with the lights off. It wasn¡¯t that he was scared of the dark, he just couldn¡¯t bring himself to relax in it. He was always too alert, watchful.


    His therapist said it had something to do with the night their mom was attacked. But since he said it wasn¡¯t necessarily a big deal, no one was in a hurry to force him to sleep in the dark.


    The light didn¡¯t bother Melmarc much so he had no problems with it. Sometimes, though, when Ark was fast asleep, he would turn it off before going to bed.


    Tonight he had fallen asleep first so the lights were on.


    Still unsure of what had made him wake up, he turned his head to check on Ark. He found him sleeping carelessly, hands in sprawled out on his sides and legs chaotic. Spitfire fire slept peacefully on his chest, on top of one of Melmarc¡¯s shirts.


    He found what had woken him up when he turned his head back to the ceiling.


    He didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d expected or how he¡¯d expected it to be. If he was being honest, he¡¯d thought it would be something more eventful or momentous. He had thought it would be¡­


    He didn¡¯t really know what he had thought, but certainly not this. Not woken up from his sleep without any event or occasion.


    Most Delvers that did tell their stories always made it seem eventful.


    Dark-Mist¡ªrest his soul¡ªhad gotten his when he¡¯d tried to stop a mugging. There was some guy in Equatorial Guinea with a skill that made clothes solid enough to use as weapons who had his own when he¡¯d almost drowned in a stream.


    Waking up in the middle of the night wasn¡¯t¡­ anything.


    But it was what he got and it took a moment for it to settle in as he stared at it.


    It¡¯s really happening. Excitement bubbled in him as he stared at the words in front of him. I¡¯m getting a skill. A wide smile stretched his lips. I¡¯m a Gifted.


    Well, not yet. Technically.


    He did have to choose his skills first then get a class.


    For now, he read the words in his head very slowly. He made sure he didn¡¯t miss a single word. They say the words are your body interpreting itself to you, so it was always best not to miss anything.


    [Humanity is ushered into an age of superiority when a chosen few awaken to themselves. Understanding mana is an understanding of oneself and their capabilities. Only a few ever hold the potential, and only a few ever live long enough to see it.]


    Can¡¯t say I saw that coming, Melmarc thought. Only a few live long enough to see it?


    All Gifted got their skills between the ages of sixteen to seventeen. Some got it at fifteen but that was practically unheard of, much like those who get theirs at eighteen.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    But the notification was telling him only a few lived to see it? They said the words were the body¡¯s way of talking to you but he refused to believe his body could be so dastardly wrong.


    Regardless, he continued reading.


    [Upon activation of your skills you will gain the ability to manipulate the mana within and around you, affect the injuries that plague the world, and make decisions large enough to affect the fate of the world.]


    Decisions that affect the fate of the world?


    This was less of a congratulation for getting powers and more of a pep talk of the responsibilities that came with great power.


    Just out of curiosity, Melmarc looked at Ark. Did he get this kind of notification, too?


    And if he did, how had he only been able to focus on the excitement of getting skills and not the fear of potential decisions that could affect the fate of the world.


    Isn¡¯t that too much pressure to be putting on a sixteen-year-old?


    [The skills you have discovered are based on your innate capabilities. They are advanced and powerful, but, ultimately, they are nothing new. They are simply advancements of what you are already capable of. Do not fear them. Do not run from them. Embrace them for they are your destiny.]


    Now the words were getting kind of poetic.


    Do they really expect me to believe this is my body talking to me? Because that¡¯s not possible.


    Melmarc read the last line again. Embrace them because they are your destiny? There¡¯s no way my body¡¯s that poetic.


    But he understood the heart of it. In summary, he was getting powers. For more in-depth analysis, the skills he was about to pick from were going to be things he was already good at, just magical versions.


    He thought of what exactly he was good at.


    He read a lot, like a lot. He¡¯d read anything, really. A menu. A sign post. A manual. The other day he read the ingredients on a milk carton.


    Maybe skills that have to do with the eye?


    There was a Delver who could shoot lasers from his eyes. It was cool, but did he really want that? He couldn¡¯t picture himself shooting lasers from his eyes.


    He was taking self-defense classes. Those were designed to teach him how to defend himself from armed and unarmed attacks.


    Maybe Strength based skills? Something unarmed?


    There were Classes that favored unarmed combat. The Monk class was a famous class that granted extra damage for physical attacks.


    Is there an Intelligence type skill I could get for what I can do?


    Maybe I could get¡­


    ¡­


    When he thought about it, he couldn¡¯t find anything in that category. He wasn¡¯t really surprised though. It wasn¡¯t like there were things people normally did that translated into magic.


    For instance, what daily activity did a normal person do that could translate into¡­ say¡­ telekinesis?


    Making crane lifts? The people who work with them pick things up all the time, just not with their hands.


    That could pass, right?


    Regardless, he got the gist of it. He was clearly not going to be offered any range skills. He played no range sports. Unless basketball counts.


    But it wasn¡¯t like he was very good at it. He was average at best. If he tried to join the school team he would be quick and steady friends with the bench.


    But he understood it.


    As if it had been waiting for him to be sure he understood what was happening, the words disappeared. They were replaced with new ones.


    [Gifted: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Rank: None]


    [Class: None]


    ¡­


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    ¡°Yes,¡± Melmarc said quietly.


    Ark mumbled something incomprehensible on his bed. He turned slightly, was held down by Spitfire¡¯s weight on his chest, and remained in his position.


    For one moment Melmarc considered waking his brother up. The thought brought up something new and he quickly checked the notification.


    No timer, he thought with a sigh. Which meant he had all the time he needed in the world to choose.


    The notification disappeared and was replaced with a new one. In front of him was a list of skills.


    [Fist Of Thunder]


    The Gifted wraps their fist in electricity at a mana cost.


    [Sword of Light]


    The Gifted wraps their sword in light, giving it heat properties.


    [You Are Not Alone]


    The Gifted communes with animals of almost every kind.


    [Let Me In]


    The Gifted possesses telepathic abilities.


    Melmarc read the list twice, like a father checking an unbelievable Christmas list his kids wrote up.


    It didn¡¯t make sense. The notification had told him the skill selection was based on what he was already capable of.


    But only one of the skills made sense. The first one could be explained away by his self-defense classes. In fact, he¡¯d anticipated something in the category. The second skill was confusing.


    Sword of Light. He didn¡¯t have any sword training. In fact, the only bladed tool he ever used was a knife, and it was for cooking. And he didn¡¯t even cook very often.


    Yes, once in a while Ninra and his mom made him help with the cutting when she wanted to cook, but it wasn¡¯t even often enough to justify a knife skill.


    And I just know that¡¯s the first step to a blade class. Maybe sword master or something.


    The third class was kind of insane, and completely out of place for him. He didn¡¯t hate animals, but he couldn¡¯t say he necessarily liked them. He¡¯d had a pet hamster once, but that had been for a school project.


    He turned his head and looked at Ark. Somehow he couldn¡¯t help but blame Spitfire for that one.


    He had nothing to say for the last one. Telepathy was an interesting skill but most Delver teams liked to take Telepaths with an ability to link to more than one mind.


    Most of them just tended to end up being nothing more than glorified walkie-talkies. He didn¡¯t have anything against them, every role was important in a team, but he just wasn¡¯t looking to play a role that was too supportive.


    He wanted to be strong, after all¡­


    ¡­Strong enough that they wouldn¡¯t even dare.


    A supporting role wasn¡¯t something he wanted to go for. Supports were good, he knew some that were even amazing, giving buffs and status effects to others.


    But he didn¡¯t want that for himself. He didn¡¯t want to help someone get stronger. It might be selfish of him, but he wanted to be the strong one.


    While he thought about it, he realized that he¡¯d gotten a skill for at least each Class type. Fist of Thunder was clearly a Strength type skill. Most sword classes were Agility types. Telepathy was Intelligence based. And so was communing with animals, which seemed like another branch of telepathy.


    But he couldn¡¯t be a hundred percent sure of that last one. there were Classes that could commune with animals that weren¡¯t Intelligence types. Besides, the skill didn¡¯t say he would be able to read their minds, just commune with them.


    There were classes that could do that and were not Intelligence types.


    Like Beastmaster.


    The class could incite the frenzy of wild animals, turning them feral on chosen enemies. Some variations of it could even turn them to pets for a specific period of time.


    Melmarc ran a hand through his hair. If he was to pick, it would be between Fist of Thunder and Sword of Light.


    A blade or a fist. Strength or Agility. It¡¯s all¡ªow!


    He muffled his own voice, trapped the spurt of pain that pierced him. His hand went straight to his stomach, grabbed it as the pain grew. It felt as if something was trying to pierce its way out of him.


    My scar, he realized, turning on his side. It burns.


    It wasn¡¯t painful to the point of tears, but it still hurt. It was more along the lines of severely uncomfortable. He groaned and new words appeared in front of him.


    For a moment he was terrified that he¡¯d somehow unwittingly chosen a skill. In his pain, he caught himself praying that it wasn¡¯t the case.


    When new words appeared in front of him, he was both relieved and scared.


    [Anomaly detected]


    [Foreign mana detected]


    [Gifted, Melmarc Jay Lockwood, is contaminated]


    [Attempting to decontaminate]


    [Decontamination is in effect]


    Decontaminate?


    Melmarc¡¯s mind went into a panic. What did it mean when someone¡¯s body told him it needed to decontaminate them? He knew what the foreign mana was, he would be stupid not to.


    The hospital had already told him there were faint residues of mana in his scar which made it impossible for the Healer to remove it. And since he still had the scar, it was safe to assume the scar still had some residue of mana, even though he¡¯d completely forgotten about it.


    The discomfort in his stomach grew, until he felt like he was completely full of gas but couldn¡¯t fart. He groaned a little more, still turned on his side.


    The entire ordeal lasted for almost fifteen seconds before the pain subsided and new notifications appeared.


    [Decontamination attempt failed]


    [Unable to expel foreign mana]


    ¡­


    [Seeking alternate solution]


    [Alternate solution found]


    [Attempting alternate solution]


    [Attempting to Assimilate]


    [Assimilation is in effect]


    Can it really do¡ª


    A new pain filled Melmarc and his thoughts were cut off. It wasn¡¯t as painful as the one before it, but it was still painful.


    It was like getting an injection in the stomach. No¡­ it was actually like getting ten injections in the stomach at the same time.


    [Identifying foreign mana]


    [Identification complete]


    [Replicating mana root]


    [Replication complete]


    [Assimilation is in effect]


    ¡­


    [Assimilation complete]


    The pain disappeared almost immediately.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand left his stomach, his mind confused. There was no aftermath of the pain. No slight residue that it had been there just mere moments ago. It felt as if it had all been in his head.


    He was happy he was done with it, but the notifications weren¡¯t done with him.


    [Anomaly detected]


    [Due to detected and resolved anomaly, re-calculations have been made]


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    Melmarc read the entire thing.


    He was scared to answer this time.


    What if it¡¯s like a game glitch. When it gets to a point, there¡¯s an error, and it has to start again. And that error¡¯s not fixed so it just continues in an endless loop?


    He didn¡¯t know which was more terrifying than the other, getting an F-rank class or being a Gifted without a skill or rank. Just stuck in a constant skill selection glitch.


    The second one, he agreed immediately.


    At F-rank, you at least had a skill and were definitely above average. The second option just meant being a normal person that walked around with words in front of him and pain for every time he said yes.


    You miss all the shots you don¡¯t take, he told himself, pep-talking himself into a decision. You won¡¯t know if you don¡¯t at least try once.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    He winced in anticipation of pain when he answered, but nothing came. Instead he got his skills list again.


    [Fist of Thunder]


    The Gifted wraps their fist in electricity at a mana cost.


    [Sword of Light]


    The Gifted wraps their sword in light, giving it heat properties.


    [You Are Not Alone]


    The Gifted communes with animals of almost every kind.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.


    The notification had replaced the last skill with a new one.


    Melmarc read the new skill twice. A frown slowly creeped onto his face.


    The new skill felt familiar, very familiar. His mind brought up the image of a ring, expanded it, then made it bright¡­ and white.


    He knew it. He knew the skill as deeply as he knew his own name. Knew what it was capable of. What it could do to a person. What it could do to a house.


    As he stared at the new list, only one word came to his mind.


    ¡°Why?¡±

 TWENTY: Bob Slater

    There was no more pain, at least nothing physical.


    Melmarc just stared. He wasn''t reading the notifications or anything like that. He was merely staring. As if knowing it had lost his interest, the notifications disappeared.


    After a while, he got up from his bed and stepped out of the room. The light switch was right next to the door, and he turned it off on his way out.


    In the living room he ran into uncle Dorthna watching a movie. It was almost a given at this point. Now that he thought about it, his mom did it, and so did his dad. They slept very late or not at all.


    With the memory of his mother¡¯s attack fresh in his mind, he saw it in a whole new light. They weren¡¯t staying up late to watch their favorite shows or anything like that. Even now, uncle Dorthna was watching the news, and he knew their uncle had already watched the one showing in the afternoon.


    They¡¯re standing guard, he realized.


    It was so obvious he was slightly ashamed that he hadn¡¯t figured it out sooner. A small sound drew his attention and he found uncle Dorthna looking at him.


    ¡°You¡¯re up early,¡± Dorthna said.


    Melmarc nodded. He didn¡¯t say anything, just walked up to one of the couches and sat down. He stared at the screen but couldn¡¯t muster up anything interest in it.


    He had never been a news person.


    On his couch, Dorthna was looking at him.


    ¡°Had a bad dream?¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow at his uncle. ¡°I¡¯m sixteen.¡±


    ¡°Take it from me, Mel. No one¡¯s too old to have nightmares. Or too powerful.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m sure there¡¯s an age when kids stop running to their parents and uncles when they have nightmares.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± Dorthna looked thoughtful. ¡°Their nightmares start happening in real life at that age so they start seeing a therapist.¡±


    That was¡­ oddly deep.


    ¡°Speaking of powers¡­¡±


    Melmarc stared at the skills in front of him and they reappeared despite having disappeared. He had been worried that he¡¯d be forced to walk around with them in his face at a point.


    He looked at them but didn¡¯t read them.


    [Fist of Thunder]


    The Gifted wraps their fist in electricity at a mana cost.


    [Sword of Light]


    The Gifted wraps their sword in light, giving it heat properties.


    [You Are Not Alone]


    The Gifted communes with animals of almost every kind.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Dorthna said, adjusting on the couch so that he sat upright rather slouched. ¡°You just got offered a selection of skills to choose from.¡±


    Melmarc looked up. ¡°How did you know?¡±


    Dorthna chuckled, then twirled a finger in a circular motion at him. ¡°It¡¯s written all over your face. You¡¯ve got the look of someone who¡¯s just been offered skills he doesn¡¯t want.¡±


    Melmarc looked down and away. He felt mildly ashamed. Here he was, with the one thing millions of people prayed to have, and he was being picky.


    The appearance of the last skill made him feel like he had to choose it if he wanted certainty that his rank would not be low. He couldn¡¯t picture a situation where getting that skill made him weak. What it was capable of was the complete opposite of weak.


    ¡°You know you can always wait it out if you don¡¯t like what you have right now, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Unless it¡¯s an unranked. But seeing how casual you are about it, you don¡¯t have a timer.¡±


    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s what that was?¡± Melmarc scratched his head then picked up the remote that was beside his chair instead of beside the person watching the television.


    It was another proof that the television and what was on it were unimportant to uncle Dorthna¡¯s position of being awake.


    How did we not notice?


    Rather than dwell on it, he asked, ¡°Did you know that Ark¡¯s class was going to be unranked?¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°The moment I heard he got a timer it was obvious. All the unranked got a timer. They didn¡¯t really have a say in the matter. It¡¯s pretty much like they can¡¯t say no. It counts down until you choose or not.¡±


    ¡°What happens if you don¡¯t choose?¡±


    It was a curiosity he had the chance to satisfy, so why not.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t choose by the end of the timer, one will be chosen for you at random,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°There¡¯s at least one unranked I know of that had his first skill picked for him at random. He ended up with the Monk class. And a powerful one, too.¡±


    I guess that¡¯s the answer.


    All the Delvers really did have their own network or such. Melmarc hadn¡¯t seen this piece of information anywhere before. There was still nobody who knew what criteria were required to get an unranked Class.


    Or was it true? What if it was a secret like this one?


    ¡°It¡¯s not really a secret,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°I can already see your mind working. It¡¯s like a hydraulic press, pounding away at theories like you¡¯ve just uncovered a secret and are looking for other ones. The timer thing is just not talked about, that¡¯s all.¡±


    Maybe. But if that was true, what else about the unranked classes was simply ¡®not talked about.¡¯


    Many people had already figured out which skills could give what type of classes. Some online platforms even had tried and tested combinations required to get specific classes. Classes that used swords, or guns, or mana.


    You obviously couldn¡¯t determine what skills you were offered in the beginning, but with the list of skills and combinations floating around in the internet, you could be lucky enough to see something that you recognized.


    And if the right supporting skill showed up¡­ well, at least you had an idea of what your class could be by the time you were selecting it.


    ¡°What of skill combinations?¡± he asked.


    ¡°What about them?¡±


    ¡°Do we know any skill combination that could lead to an unranked Class?¡±


    Dorthna looked up as he thought about it for a while, then asked, ¡°What options did you get?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to look at the skill list. ¡°[Fist of Thunder], [Sword of Light], [You Are Not Alone], and [Rings of Saturn].¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Dorthna frowned lightly. ¡°The last one sounds familiar but I don¡¯t know it. Fist of Thunder will most definitely lead you to a Strength class. [Sword of Light] could give you Paladin, maybe. All those holy-ish classes are just really powerful light bulbs in my opinion. But some churches like to treat them as holy classes¡­ although they do have some form of justification for it¡­¡±


    Dorthna trailed off in thought.


    ¡°What does [You Are Not Alone] do?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Let¡¯s the Gifted commune with animals,¡± Melmarc read out.


    ¡°Huh. I thought it would be something telepathic. It is, but just with animals.¡± Dorthna shook his head. ¡°You aren¡¯t an animal person so personally, I wouldn¡¯t advise it. It¡¯s always best to stick to what you¡¯re good at. What of that last one? Rings of Saturn.¡±


    ¡°About that.¡± Melmarc raised one of his legs and tucked it under him. ¡°I have a question.¡±


    ¡°Shoot.¡±


    ¡°Do the notifications ever have glitches? Like, are there times when it kind of does something odd?¡±


    ¡°Glitches do happen. For example, you could get a quest¡ªsomething Delvers get inside the portals¡ªand it could change completely before you even start acting on it.¡±


    ¡°What of with skills? Does it change the skills offered just after its offered them? Like maybe it gave you the wrong skill and decided to correct it.¡±


    Dorthna took another moment to think about this one.


    ¡°It has happened a few times,¡± he said finally. ¡°Definitely enough times to be called a unique case, but only to people who are getting new skills when upgrading their current skills. But it¡¯s usually due to things like mana contamination.¡±


    So it¡¯s not really a special case.


    It brought relief, and a little bit of disappointment. On one hand, as scary as it had been, Melmarc had toyed with the idea of having experienced a situation that was unique only to him. Now he realized it was a boyish fantasy. But everyone liked the idea of being special.


    Well, if it has happened to a few people, then maybe it won¡¯t have bad effects.


    ¡°Ah, I see.¡± Dorthna looked down at Melmarc¡¯s stomach and nodded. ¡°You got mana contamination. So which one was it? Decontamination or Assimilation?¡±


    ¡°Assimilation,¡± Melmarc answered.


    Dorthna made an impressed sound. ¡°That¡¯s actually more impressive than you know. Most people just decontaminate, expel it from their system.¡±


    ¡°Well, I think my body tried to remove it but couldn¡¯t. I think assimilation was the easier option.¡±


    ¡°Thus, the new skill. [Rings of Saturn]. You still haven¡¯t told me what it does.¡±


    And he didn¡¯t want to. But he had the knowledge of a retired Delver with him. It would be stupid not to use it to his heart¡¯s content.


    So he told him.


    Dorthna winced. ¡°Oof. Must¡¯ve been tough seeing that.¡±


    Nobody ever asked, but everyone always simply assumed that Dorthna knew the details of the Player from that night. His words now confirmed it.


    ¡°A little piece of unasked advice,¡± Dorthna said, leaning back on his couch and slouching a bit. He was trying to affect a casual stance. ¡°If you are torn between your personal emotions towards the owner of the skill and the power of the skill, you don¡¯t have to be.¡±


    His uncle had read him like a book. It was exactly what bothered him. The skill was clearly powerful, but he didn¡¯t want to use a skill that had almost killed his mother. He didn¡¯t want to use a Player¡¯s skill.


    ¡°The truth about skills is that all of them scale. So they aren¡¯t always as powerful as you see.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Well, every Delver¡¯s skill is ranked, but not at the point of choosing. What happens is that they scale to the Gifted¡¯s class rank. So you could have someone with Fist of Thunder with a rank D, and another with the same skill but ranked A. The few people that have gotten it call them contaminated skills.¡±


    Melmarc felt a touch of relief. ¡°So I shouldn¡¯t be worried about it?¡±


    ¡°Nope. It¡¯s just a skill like any other. That you¡¯ve seen it do powerful things was because you saw it in the hands of a powerful person. Not because it is powerful.¡±


    Melmarc almost felt the tension leave his entire body. He had been scared he was about to do something foolish because of childish worries.


    He would¡¯ve done it, though. He would have refused the skill simply because of his one experience with it. It would¡¯ve been stupid but he would¡¯ve done it.


    Rejecting something that was obviously powerful simply because you didn¡¯t like it wasn¡¯t very smart. Especially when your goal was to be very powerful.


    He mentally eliminated it from the list. It would still be there, but as far as he was concerned, he had only three skills to pick from.


    ¡°Ha,¡± Dorthna laughed. ¡°You should see your face. You look like you just took a huge dump. Must¡¯ve really been bothering you.¡±


    Melmarc laughed, too. It had, a lot.


    ¡°So what now? I have three skills, and you¡¯ve already said I shouldn¡¯t pick the one with animals.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Dorthna raised a cautionary finger. ¡°I didn¡¯t say not to choose it. I said, personally, I wouldn¡¯t advise it. Don¡¯t let anyone tell you what skill you should or shouldn¡¯t choose. You can take a person¡¯s advice but don¡¯t let them tell you what to do.¡±


    ¡°Why not? You were a Delver before, clearly you¡¯ll know more about skills than I would.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I can¡¯t know more about you than you would. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve already gotten the pep-talk about how each skill is based on what you already know how to do. Even if it seems like something that doesn¡¯t make sense, I assure you that it¡¯s not a lie. They are all based off something your body can do.¡±


    ¡°But why shouldn¡¯t I let someone show me the right skills. I mean I understand it, but, like, why?¡±


    ¡°Because if you become a Delver, then your skills will be your most important tools you carry into life and death situations so that other people don¡¯t have to. And, in my opinion, should they fail you¡ªbecause they will from time to time¡ªthen it¡¯s a worse feeling of regret when you blame it on someone else. When a bad thing happens, it¡¯s easier to accept it when you know that you¡¯re the only one responsible for it.¡±


    Dorthna looked at the television and his eyes grew distant. ¡°You don¡¯t want it to be because you let someone else make an important decision for you.¡±


    That worried him a little.


    ¡°But I can still ask you questions about the skills I get offered if I wait, right?¡±


    Dorthna smiled at him. ¡°Of course you can. I¡¯m always here to help.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± That was another worry gone. ¡°So I want to wait, see if I get new skills. What do you think?¡±


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°If you wait, you¡¯ll definitely get new skills. Skills are based on the Gifted¡¯s experiences. So unless you¡¯re a rock locked in an air tight container, you¡¯ll definitely get new skills. But waiting and getting new skills means losing the ones you already have.¡±


    Melmarc had heard that somewhere before. The notifications didn¡¯t offer new skills, they replaced already existing ones.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got four already, so that¡¯s quite impressive,¡± Dorthna continued. ¡°Most people get only two or three. More than three is rare. More than four is a wonder of the world. Since your contaminated skill replaced one of your natural skill instead of just being a part of the group, that should say you aren¡¯t getting more than four at a time.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. He really didn¡¯t think he was going to get more than four.


    ¡°I¡¯ll wait,¡± he decided. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll get something I like.¡±


    ¡°Maybe. But don¡¯t wait too long. I know most people think you can wait forever if you want, and you can, but any reasonable Gifted wouldn¡¯t advise it. What we will advise is to try a lot of new and cool things while you¡¯re waiting, it increases the chances of getting more interesting skills.¡±


    ¡°But why shouldn¡¯t we wait too long? And how long is too long?¡±


    ¡°A week, two at the most. As for the reason, well, ever heard of Bob Slater?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°Exactly. He¡¯s a Gifted who waited for three weeks. He started out with three offered skills, but at week three, he only had one offered skill. The worst part was that by week four it was the only skill he was offered. By two months the skill hadn¡¯t changed no matter what he did.¡±


    Melmarc winced. ¡°That sounds terrible.¡±


    ¡°It was.¡± Dorthna folded his arms. ¡°But it got worse, because when he finally picked the skill, he had only one offer for his sub-skill.¡±


    ¡°What class did he end up with?¡±


    ¡°Brewer of Coffee. B-rank.¡±


    ¡°Sooo¡­ he makes really good coffee?¡±


    ¡°He makes the best coffee I¡¯ve ever tasted. He¡¯s a Barista in France.¡±


    ¡°So he found a way to be successful?¡±


    ¡°Oh, gods no.¡± Dorthna shook his head vehemently. ¡°He¡¯s just an employee in some coffee shop. It¡¯s not as easy as people think to make a living off just any class.¡±


    ¡°But if he¡¯s so good at making coffee, shouldn¡¯t he be able to start a coffee business that makes really good coffee? With enough marketing and time, he should be able to get big. Why settle for simple coffee when you can get the best?¡±


    ¡°And that right there is the optimistic thinking of the soon to be gifted or the na?ve thinking of the not Gifted.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Alright, let me help.¡± Dorthna leaned forward on his chair. ¡°Let¡¯s use good ol¡¯ Bob as an example. You have to make almost perfect coffee every time. It¡¯s magical so it¡¯s not like there¡¯s some unique recipe you¡¯ve come up with. You just touch a cup and some coffee beans, and voila, magic. With me so far?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Good. So you open a coffee shop, and employ a few people. Remember now, there¡¯s no recipe. You just touch things coffee-related, and magic happens. So it¡¯s not something you can teach your employees. It¡¯s not something you can teach anyone. So it fails, because in the end, it¡¯s just like any other coffee shop unless you¡¯re working the counter at all times.¡±


    ¡°And even if you are,¡± Melmarc mused, ¡°How many cups of coffee could you make in a day. Can¡¯t be enough to make the money to make you big.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. So it¡¯s not worth the money required to start. And if you end up working for someone. They¡¯ll know how good your coffee is, and they¡¯ll know that putting you at the counter ensures that there¡¯ll always be good coffee for at least one of their customers at every point in time.¡±


    ¡°Which means you¡¯ll be a front line worker forever.¡±


    ¡°Your pay may go up, you might even get a supervisory role, but you will always be at the counter making coffee. Because that is the one reason you were employed for.¡±


    ¡°Sounds bleak.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°It is. So here¡¯s some advice. Don¡¯t wait too long. Also, you can never go wrong with World skills. They are almost always unranked, almost always powerful, and they don¡¯t scale to the Gifted¡¯s class. You can be a C-rank Gifted with a World skill that works on par with the World skill of an S-rank. The only strain about it is that you really, really have to keep on understanding it.¡±


    ¡°So I shouldn¡¯t hesitate to go for an intelligence type if I get offered a world skill.¡±


    Dorthna paused. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well, World skills are rare.¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°And most of them usually end up giving you the Mage class.¡±


    ¡°Wrong.¡± Dorthna ran his hand down his face in exasperation. ¡°Who keeps giving the general public these convoluted pieces of information? World skills aren¡¯t intelligence based skills, and they don¡¯t mostly lead to the Mage class.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    ¡°There are what, five known Mages in the world? Do people think there are only like fifteen World skills? And because the Mage class is secretive and we know two Mages have World skills that all Mages have World skills?¡±


    That was news to Melmarc. ¡°So all the Mages don¡¯t have World skills?¡±


    ¡°No, they actually do. But that¡¯s not the point I¡¯m making.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°My point is that World skills aren¡¯t intelligence based. There¡¯s a guy in Vietnam that¡¯s got the World skill [Sword of The World]. He¡¯s got the Samurai class. There¡¯s a Delver in Nigeria with the [Death of The World] skill and he¡¯s got the Reaper class. Samurai is an Agility type and so is Reaper. And there are at least eleven World skills we know of out there.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ they are not intelligence based.¡±


    ¡°No. World skills are a bit like support skills. They do tend to nudge a Gifted in a direction, but ultimately, it¡¯s not intelligence based. It would just nudge you in any direction.¡±


    ¡°So if I get offered a World skill.¡±


    ¡°Take it. Unless you are offered two, which has happened to nobody. Ever.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, and they lulled into an awkward silence.


    Well, it felt like an awkward silence for him. Uncle Dorthna didn¡¯t seem to mind it.


    He felt like he¡¯d just been scolded for believing that World skills were intelligence based. He knew his uncle hadn¡¯t been scolding him, but he felt like he¡¯d been scolded all the same.


    Not really ready to go back to bed, he sat in the living room with uncle Dorthna and stared at the television. None of them were really watching the news.


    He had to make new plans now.


    The school trip was in a few days, and he needed to do more things, new things, so that the skills he¡¯ll be offered would be better than the ones in front of him.


    I¡¯ve really got to figure something out.

 TWENTY-ONE: Road Food

    After uncle Dorthna, Ark was the second person to find out about Melmarc¡¯s status as a potential Gifted.


    Melmarc told him first thing in the morning when he woke up.


    There had been a bit of grumbling on his part about how Melmarc should¡¯ve woken him up immediately it had happened. Regardless, there was nothing but joy from Ark. He was almost more excited about it than he had been when he gotten his own skills.


    ¡°So are we on our way to a Basher class?¡± he¡¯d asked.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Melmarc broke down the events for him, and by the end of it Ark had a mild frown on his face. He was equally against [Rings of Saturn]. That was unless it was going to be a powerful skill, in which case he thought Melmarc should take it.


    His relief was palpable when he found out it didn¡¯t necessarily guarantee it would be strong.


    Ninra was the next to learn about it. While she was joyous, celebrating the news, she didn¡¯t seem all too excited.


    Ark was the first to notice, and he looked at her suspiciously.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You don¡¯t seem very excited.¡±


    Ninra shrugged. ¡°What can I say. My dad¡¯s a Delver, my mom¡¯s a Delver, my brother¡¯s a Demon Lord, and now my other brother¡¯s going to be a Gifted. It¡¯s like finding out you¡¯re an aunty. It¡¯s amazing the first time, but it kind of loses its punch after too many nephews and nieces. You¡¯re still happy, but you¡¯re kind of used to it.¡± She looked at Melmarc. ¡°I am excited for you. I really am. But now I¡¯m just overwhelmed with the great burden of being the only normal person in the family.¡±


    They were in the kitchen and she returned her attention to the breakfast she was cooking and stirred the contents of the pot.


    All their lives she¡¯d been the only one who¡¯d never been interested in being Gifted. It wasn¡¯t a thing about assumptions. She just really didn¡¯t care much for it. She actually just wanted a normal life. Go to school, graduate, find something she loves doing and settle down. She didn¡¯t want the noblesse oblige that came with Classes.


    Now she was talking about the burden of being normal.


    Maybe it¡¯s different now that she¡¯s the only one, Melmarc thought.


    Ninra stopped stirring the pot, covered it, and looked at him. Her faced scrunched up. ¡°What the hell¡¯s wrong with your face?¡±


    Melmarc looked away. ¡°Nothing. I just thought¡ª¡±


    ¡°We just thought you didn¡¯t want to be Gifted,¡± Ark beat him to it.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t.¡±


    They turned at the sound of their uncle¡¯s voice and found him standing by the kitchen door.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t what she meant by the burden of being the only normal person,¡± he explained.


    Ninra let out a relaxed sigh. ¡°At least somebody gets it.¡± To Melmarc and Ark, she added: ¡°Do you know what it means to be the only normal person in the house? You guys brought a demon into the house just a few days ago. Yes, you didn¡¯t know, but it had horns and didn¡¯t look normal. A normal person would give it over to animal control or the police. But not my idiot brothers, you actually brought it home and turned it into a pet.¡±


    ¡°It kinda paid off,¡± Ark said.


    ¡°Of course it did.¡± Ninra rolled her eyes at him. ¡°Then mom and dad come home and see their kids are raising a pet demon, and what do they do? Nothing. When this pet demon starts biting their son, they also do nothing.¡±


    ¡°You kinda did nothing too,¡± Ark pointed out.


    ¡°Of course, because I¡¯m a part of this family and I already know that normal here isn¡¯t normal out there. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I love you guys and your eccentricities. It¡¯s just that I¡¯m suddenly saddled with the realization that in the future I¡¯m going to have to be explaining to you guys how a pet velociraptor or some shit isn¡¯t a suitable birthday present for a four-year-old.¡±


    Ark nodded. ¡°I guess I can see your point.¡±


    Melmarc had a feeling a four-year-old might like a velociraptor for a pet, depending on the four-year-old.


    Ninra turned and checked on the food once more. ¡°But it¡¯s my husband I¡¯m going to pity the most. How do I bring a man that wants to marry me here without having him shit his pants? How am I going to explain to the love of my life that I¡¯m not going to be creepy,¡± she turned and pointed the ladle at them, ¡°like you guys.¡±


    From the door uncle Dorthna looked confused. ¡°Husband? You¡¯re still single.¡± He made a dismissive gesture with his hand and chuckled. ¡°I give it another ten years before you have to start worry about that.¡±


    Ninra chucked the ladle at him, and he ducked out of the way, making a retreat into the living room.


    She snatched another kitchen utensil and went after him. ¡°At least there¡¯s a benefit to being related to a Gifted, I don¡¯t have to be careful when I whoop your ass!¡±


    She ran after their uncle with a spatula raised high over her head.


    ¡°Uncle Dorthna! I just want to talk!¡±


    Ark and Melmarc exchanged a look when she was gone.


    ¡°Who¡¯s going to tell her that she isn¡¯t really normal either?¡± Ark asked.


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I vote the fearless Demon Lord.¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    Melmarc spent the remaining two days before the school trip doing research.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    If he needed to get cool skills he needed to learn new tricks. His aim was a Strength type class. Fist of Thunder was a good starting point, but there was a reason Juggernaut was one of his preferred classes.


    Contrary to popular opinion, not all juggernauts were tall and wide. He understood that he would put on a few more pounds if he became a Juggernaut, but he also knew he didn¡¯t have to look like an oversized body builder on steroids.


    Some classes made physical adjustments to the Gifted, but it was never anything out of hand. For example, it didn¡¯t suddenly give the person two extra arms. Although, there were some Delvers who somehow had extra limbs.


    The Juggernaut wasn¡¯t a versatile class. In fact, it was one of the most specialized classes there was out there. But it ticked all the boxes Melmarc wanted.


    It was a very difficult class to put down. They were very sturdy and had resistance to almost all types of attacks. They were slow, compared to other classes, but they were almost impossible to beat down. And their fights were quick. A Juggernaut was designed to end any and all fights in one blow.


    But with what he knew about skills, there was a very unlikely chance that he would be getting the class. So he needed to diversify. He had to be realistic now. It didn¡¯t necessarily have to be a Strength type, but it still had to be powerful.


    He spent both days outside the house, walking the neighborhood. He kept his eyes out for every and anything that could be useful.


    He found a few people playing rugby, and while it looked like a skill that would inspire a Juggernaut skill, two days would not be enough to gain anything of real impact on his possible Skills selection.


    I¡¯m more likely to get a skill that helps me survive being knocked down.


    After a little bit of roaming about, he ended up at the park where people played different board games.


    It was a simple park where families brought their kids and their dogs. On one side of it were tables and chairs of cement built into the park where old and young people played board games.


    He made a quick search on the benefits of board games in developing skills and found a few points he thought were useful. He expected more intelligence based skill but was a bit surprised to find that there were some Agility types skills that it could help develop.


    What do you know, he thought as he put his phone away. No strength type.


    He only had two days before he would be going out of town so he needed things he could develop on the go. Who knew what other things he could do out in Massachusetts.


    When he joined the group, he was welcomed by a young boy who had beaten him after an hour long game of chess.


    It was the only game he knew the basics to that didn¡¯t seem too simple. He had learned it when he was small but hadn¡¯t really played the game much.


    He played two more turns with the boy and lost both, but the number of moves it took for each loss had been more than the one before.


    He lost himself in the games and played all the way into the evening until everyone started packing up. He watched a few of the games when there was no free spot left and learned strategies and techniques.


    Eventually, he had to go home.


    He went back the second day, and played some more. He got his ass handed to him a few more times but succeeded in winning three games and dragging two to a stalemate.


    Despite his defeats, it would be a lie to say he didn¡¯t enjoy himself.


    When he woke up on the morning of the school trip, he¡¯d gained a new skill. It was called [Echo Draw], and it allowed the Gifted cut twice in one ¡®draw,¡¯ whatever that was. All he had really gotten from it was that it was another sword skill and it replaced [You Are Not Alone].


    He had really been hoping it would¡¯ve taken [Rings of Saturn], instead.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    Melmarc packed a few things for the trip. A charger. A power bank. A pair of clothes. A spare charger since Delano loved to forget his charger or just outright misplace it. And a pair of shoes. It was meant to be a short trip so he didn¡¯t need much.


    Everything fit nicely in a back pack.


    Uncle Dorthna gave him one of his many credit cards, which was actually a custom whenever one of them was traveling out. Melmarc slipped it in his pocket and promised not to lose it.


    Ark made him promise to bring back a souvenir before he left the house, and Ninra just asked him to fall in love.


    Dorthna told him that he was sixteen and that whatever he was doing, he needed to use protection. They were all weird advices and he took them with an awkward smile and a barely suppressed grimace.


    The students whose parents allowed them go for the trip met at the school premises.


    With the holidays still in session, there was no actual need to clean the school, and it was clear that the janitors had been slacking off if they were actually required to work.


    Everything was covered in snow. The main walkways, the sidewalks, even the lawns.


    Melmarc emulated the other students, stepping carefully on the slippery ground as they made their way to the school bus.


    He met up with Delano and Eroms at the bus where the other children were gathered. The noise of children muttering to each other filled the space. Random snatches of conversation reached his ears.


    There was a boy talking of actually getting laid during the trip and Melmarc knew uncle Dorthna would be proud of him.


    After a while of waiting, he slipped his air-pods into his ear and found his way to the internet. He pulled up a video of a chess match between chess masters and started watching.


    The game was quick and simple, yet he didn¡¯t need the brain of a chess master to notice the beauty in the simplicity.


    Someone tapped him on the shoulder and it shook him from his focus. He tapped his screen to pause the video and turned around.


    ¡°Yo!¡± Delano greeted with a raised hand.


    Beside him Eroms waved as well.


    ¡°On a scale of one to ten,¡± Delano said, ¡°how late are we?¡±


    Melmarc removed his air-pods and put them in their case. He looked at the bus that was still locked.


    ¡°Well, the teacher¡¯s not here.¡± He slipped his air-pod case back in his pocket. ¡°So I¡¯d say you guys are quite early.¡±


    Both of them had backpacks of their own, filled to bursting. Actually, both of them didn¡¯t. Eroms was the only one with a bag.


    Two to be precise.


    ¡°Is Eroms carrying your bag, D?¡±


    Delano looked at the bags on Eroms¡¯ back. ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not your porter. Take your bag back.¡±


    ¡°Just hear me out, alright.¡± Delano raised appeasing hands. ¡°Just hear me out and I promise it will all make sense to you.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°No. Eroms, give him back his bag.¡±


    Eroms looked down at Delano and took off the smaller bag. He handed it to him and he took it, grumbling.


    ¡°This is a load of bull. What¡¯s the use of having a strong and big friend if he can¡¯t carry your things for you?¡±


    ¡°You have big friends simply because you have a friend that turned out to be¡ªis that a second bag on your shoulder, Eroms? Were you carrying three bags?¡±


    Eroms nodded. ¡°One¡¯s for my clothes and the other¡¯s road food.¡±


    ¡°Road food?¡±


    ¡°Yes, road food.¡±


    ¡°Delano, what¡¯s road food?¡±


    ¡°Food you eat on the road.¡±


    ¡°And is that road food for the three of us?¡±


    There was a slight pause before Delano answered. ¡°It is kind of big this trip, isn¡¯t it? But no, it¡¯s just for him. Eroms doesn¡¯t travel without road food.¡±


    Melmarc looked between the both of them.


    ¡°Road food,¡± he said one more time.


    ¡°Yep.¡± Delano nodded like it made perfect sense. ¡°Road food.¡±


    This was the first time Melmarc was hearing about it. But to be fair, he hadn¡¯t traveled with them before.


    All he could do was accept the truth that was offered to him.


    Road food. He shook his head while Delano laughed at his apparent confusion.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the teachers that were to travel with them arrived. From what Melmarc could tell, it wasn¡¯t that they weren¡¯t around, it was that they had simply been converged in their own meeting.


    After a brief announcement, one that told them to follow the teachers¡¯ instructions in all situations. They were asked to remain wherever the group was and never move alone.


    Mrs. Ella was always a straight-laced woman. When she spoke, she always went straight to the point. She said what she had to say and didn¡¯t beat delay, stall or dally.


    They went on the bus and their trip began quickly.


    The bus held a row of two seaters on both sides, and Melmarc sat next to the window. Delano sat next to him at the aisle. Eroms sat just behind him with a blond girl.


    Steady chatter filled the bus as the driver shifted the bus into gear. The bus trickled slowly forward, then picked up speed. In a matter of time, they went through the school gates.


    The trip had begun.

 TWENTY-TWO: Bus Ride

    ¡°What are you watching?¡± Delano asked, peeking over to Melmarc¡¯s side of the chair and trying to see his phone.


    Over the past hour of the bus ride a few things had happened, most of which involved Delano falling asleep. There¡¯d been a heated argument in the front seat between two boys that had almost come to blows. One of the teachers had been forced to change their seats to end it.


    There were still chatters and conversations here and there, but nothing important.


    During that time Melmarc had slipped his earbuds back in his ears and turned on a video of another chess game. He¡¯d watched a quick chess match online before downloading an app for it and was now playing against someone somewhere on the other side of the world.


    ¡°Are you playing chess?¡± Delano asked. ¡°Since when did you start playing chess?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve always known how to play chess.¡± Melmarc took a risk and moved his bishop to a precarious spot.


    Instead of claiming it, his opponent made a different move. It messed up his entire plan and he sucked in a sharp breath.


    ¡°How long have you known how to play chess?¡± Delano asked.


    ¡°I learned as a child.¡±


    ¡°How come I¡¯ve never seen you play chess?¡± Delano looked around his chair at Eroms. ¡°Did you know Marc could play chess.¡±


    Eroms¡¯ answer was simple but muffled. ¡°No.¡±


    Delano turned back to Melmarc. ¡°See. We¡¯re your only friends and none of us knew that you¡ªwait a gawddamn moment. Just one moment.¡±


    He turned back to look behind his chair. ¡°Where the hell did you get sandwiches, Eroms?¡±


    Melmarc winced as his opponent took his queen. At this rate the game was already up. He didn''t have enough confidence to keep playing a losing game without a queen on his board. His hand hovered over the restart option but he hesitated.


    What¡¯s another loss, he thought, then made his next move rather than restart.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure he must¡¯ve gotten it from his food bag,¡± he told Delano.


    ¡°Not possible.¡± Delano didn¡¯t turn away from Eroms. ¡°I helped him pack his food bag. Most of his food came from my house. There¡¯s chips, fruits, bananas, fruits¡ª¡±


    ¡°You already said fruits, D.¡±


    ¡°Biscuits,¡± Delano continued, undeterred. ¡°Some bottles of water. A pack of gravy for reasons I don¡¯t know. But no sandwich. We didn¡¯t pack sandwiches.¡±


    ¡°Where did you get sandwiches?¡± Delano repeated, asking Eroms.


    ¡°Uh,¡± the girl beside Eroms chipped in. ¡°I gave him the sandwich.¡±


    Melmarc chuckled, and Delano sighed.


    Delano ran a hand down his face. ¡°Tracy¡­ You¡¯re Tracy, right? Can I call you Tracy?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Tracy,¡± the girl confirmed.


    ¡°Good. I remember you because we take some classes together. So, Tracy, I know you¡¯re a nice person so I¡¯m going to ask why exactlyyou chose to give my good friend over here a sandwich.¡±


    ¡°You just said she was nice,¡± Melmarc offered, while he struggled with a losing game.


    ¡°Not now, Marc,¡± Delano shushed him. ¡°Now, back to you, Tracy. Why?¡±


    Melmarc rolled his eyes.


    ¡°He just seemed hungry,¡± Tracy answered.


    ¡°He seemed hungry?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Delano chuckled lightly. He turned to Melmarc. ¡°She said he seemed hungry. Can you¡ªaaannnd you¡¯re not even listening to me.¡±


    He turned back to Tracy.


    ¡°You know what? Never mind. Just...¡± He sighed and sat back properly. ¡°Never mind.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve really got to get used to the fact that everybody just likes Eroms now,¡± Melmarc said absently. ¡°I mean, what¡¯s not there to like? He¡¯s like a big, quiet teddy bear.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s the problem. He¡¯s not a big, quiet teddy bear. It¡¯s all a ruse.¡± Delano picked at a loose thread on his chair. ¡°Behind all that big and quiet is a devious mind that bites my leg and likes to remind me that I¡¯m short.¡±


    Melmarc turned to him. ¡°I don¡¯t see it. But is that really what he¡¯s like?¡±


    ¡°When you all are not around? Yes. I grew up with him so I know.¡±


    Eroms reached forward and flicked Delano¡¯s ear, startling him.


    ¡°See?¡± he laughed. ¡°A menace!¡±


    Melmarc shook his head and turned back to his game. This wasn¡¯t the first time he was hearing the Eroms conspiracy theory. No matter how many times he heard it, though, it never bothered him because Eroms and Delano always treated each other right.


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    The first time he¡¯d met them Delano had been getting beat up because he started a fight with a guy who¡¯d called Eroms fat.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Delano continued. ¡°You said you learned how to play chess when you were small. Why the renewed interested?¡±


    How exactly do I do this? Melmarc wondered.


    He wasn¡¯t necessarily keeping the fact that he was Gifted from his friends, it was just that since he wasn¡¯t necessarily gifted yet, he didn¡¯t really feel like there was anything to tell.


    Faced with the question now, he figured if anyone else had to know, his friends weren¡¯t a bad start.


    It¡¯s not like they¡¯ll start treating me differently¡­ right?


    ¡°School bus to Marc.¡± Delano snapped his finger between Melmarc and his phone. ¡°We kinda lost you there for a second, champ. So why the renewed interest?¡±


    Melmarc swiped his game up, minimizing it. ¡°Where¡¯s your phone?¡±


    ¡°My pocket. Why?¡±


    ¡°Take it out.¡±


    Melmarc opened his messaging app while Delano retrieved his phone and typed: I heard that learning new things increases the chances of getting better skill offers as a Gifted.


    Delano stared at his phone, clearly reading it. Then he looked at Melmarc, nonplussed. After a moment he turned back to his phone and typed a response.


    When it came, Melmarc was already back to his losing match. The messaged slipped down at the top of his screen.


    He swiped it down, expanded the notification to read it.


    What does that have to do with anything?


    Melmarc stared at his friend like he was stupid.


    You spend most of your time looking for Class secrets and conspiracy theories but couldn¡¯t understand that? He thought.


    He typed his response. It was quick and not really new.


    I heard that learning new things increases the chances of getting better SKILL offers as a GIFTED.


    Delano read the new message, then read it again.


    Melmarc saw the moment it clicked. His friend¡¯s eyes widened and his mouth fell open.


    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?!¡± Delano''s smile was too wide. His voice was also too loud. ¡°My friend¡¯s a fucking¡ª¡±


    Melmarc abandoned his phone and moved quickly. All those self-defense lessons brought themselves to good use.


    His phone fell to his laps as he reached across. In his excitement, Delano¡¯s arms weren¡¯t rested. So Melmarc pinned the arm that would get in his way with one hand, and clamped the other over Delano¡¯s mouth.


    It muffled the rest of his friend¡¯s words.


    A few eyes turned to them, but none too serious. The others were back to their business and noises soon enough.


    ¡°You do understand that there¡¯s a reason I sent it as a message, instead of saying it, right?¡± he whispered.


    Delano nodded slowly, his mouth still covered by Melmarc¡¯s hand and one arm still pinned down. In their sockets his eyes moved slowly. First it looked around, then at Melmarc before it blinked.


    I think he gets it.


    Still, when Melmarc removed his hand, he was slow and intentional about it, ready to pin his friend down again if he had to.


    Delano reached up and rubbed his jaw. ¡°Quite the grip you¡¯ve got there. You must really be coming into it.


    ¡°Delano.¡± Melmarc glared at him.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I¡¯m just joshing.¡±


    Melmarc let out a tired sigh and returned his attention to his game. Between his lost queen, his steadily inevitable loss, and Delano¡¯s shenanigans he was already getting tired.


    He made another move, but his heart wasn¡¯t in it anymore.


    Maybe I should just quit and watch another game.


    ¡°So how long are you going to wait?¡± Delano asked. ¡°And when are we telling Eroms. We¡¯re telling Eroms, right?¡±


    Melmarc gave him a side-eye.


    Delano shrugged. ¡°Personally, I wouldn¡¯t care, but if we don¡¯t tell him, then he could find out we¡¯re keeping a secret and he could just sit on me.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow. ¡°Is that a fat joke?¡±


    ¡°Nope. That¡¯s actually a true life story. One time, when we were kids he came to my place when I was asleep and my mom let him in. There was a girl he was crushing on and she was crushing on me. So he came into my room and just¡­ sat on me.¡±


    Melmarc laughed.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± Delano insisted. ¡°Do you know how traumatizing it is to have your life flash before your eyes when you¡¯re not even ten yet?¡±


    Melmarc kind of knew. He couldn¡¯t look at a ring light without being slightly worried. No one knew that, though.


    And no one¡¯s going to.


    Delano nudged his knee. ¡°So when are we telling him?¡±


    ¡°When we get to our destination,¡± Eroms said from the back. ¡°You don¡¯t tell secrets on a moving bus.¡±


    ¡°What secret?¡± Tracy asked.


    Delano sighed. ¡°Melmarc has something on his big boy parts he doesn¡¯t want anyone to know about.¡±


    Melmarc glared at his friend.


    ¡°Oh.¡± Tracy sounded worried. ¡°You should use protection every time. If it¡¯s that bad, I can call my mom. She¡¯s a nurse so maybe we can stop by a pharmacy and she¡¯ll tell us what to get.¡±


    With a frown, Melmarc quit the match he was playing and typed furiously on his phone.


    Why the hell would you tell her that? He sent. Now everyone¡¯s going to think I¡¯ve got some kind of disease!


    Delano looked at the message and his face twisted in horror.


    Melmarc saw it and realized the boy hadn¡¯t been thinking. A new message popped up on his phone.


    I¡¯m so sorry, it read. I wasn¡¯t thinking. I¡¯ll fix this.


    Delano turned and propped himself up on his knees so that he was looking over his chair.


    ¡°You¡¯re sweet, Tracy, but I was lying. You know Melmarc takes self-defense classes, right?¡±


    So he¡¯s plan to fix this was to tell more things about me. Just great.


    Tracy¡¯s answer surprised him.


    ¡°Everyone knows that. They say it¡¯s because he uses it to defend himself from his brother when he gets angry. Personally, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s true.¡±


    What the hell?! Everyone knows? And why would they think I¡¯ll need to defend myself from Ark?


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Delano confirmed. Then he paused and looked at Melmarc. ¡°It¡¯s not, right?¡±


    Melmarc had a very short full body tantrum. ¡°Of course it¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°Okay, good. Just checking.¡± Delano turned back to Tracy. ¡°The secret has something to do with the dojo where he¡¯s learning the whole self-defense thing.¡±


    ¡°Do you lie a lot?" Tracy asked Delano.


    Melmarc could hear the frown in her voice.


    Delano let out a sigh. ¡°Marc, please tell her you¡¯ll tell her the secret. Something tells me she¡¯ll believe it if it¡¯s coming from you.¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re going about it the wrong way. You should be asking if she even wants to know the secret.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± Delano asked her.


    ¡°Is that a trick question? Everybody wants to know a secret.¡±


    Melmarc adjusted on his seat so that he sat lower then put his head back, losing interest in the conversation. He tapped a few options on his phone and in a matter of moments a slow instrumental was playing his ear. It was the work of a famous violinist who¡¯d gone on a world famous talent show once and had lost horridly.


    She was famous now for her work, so he guessed that was a win.


    As the slow violin played in his ear, he thought of skills and classes and what he would do if he hadn¡¯t gotten something he liked in a week. The last thing he wanted to do was end up like Bob Slater.


    Unwilling to conjure up a lie, he closed his eyes or further interest in the conversation. ¡°Wake me up when we get there, Delano.¡±


    Delano made a move he didn¡¯t see. He only knew he¡¯d moved because of the sound of the chair he was seating on.


    ¡°I was already getting worried that you were still awake, normally you¡¯d be asleep by now.¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve liked to respond to his friend but he was too busy being lulled to sleep by the moving vehicle and the song in his ear.


    It would really be cool if he could get a skill he liked sooner than later.

 TWENTY-THREE: Conspiracy Theorists

    They got to their destination in the very late hours of the evening, or early hours of the night.


    Delano tapped Melmarc awake as Mrs. Ella instructed everyone to get down from the bus.


    Melmarc woke to a violin playing in his ear with a very different tempo from the one he¡¯d slept to. While it was still a violinist, there was just something at the heart of this one that told him it wasn¡¯t something he was supposed to end up listening to.


    He picked up his phone and checked the playlist. It was from an entirely different violinist.


    ¡°Did you change my playlist?¡± he asked Delano who was already standing, and reaching into the overhead compartment to get their things.


    ¡°Yea.¡± Delano¡¯s voice was strained as he tried to jimmy something from the compartment. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I like Lindsey as much as the next violin enthusiast but I needed something different. I figured dream you wouldn¡¯t mind as long as it was a violinist.¡±


    Behind them Eroms and Tracy had already gotten up from their chairs.


    Not wanting to be left out, Melmarc stretched with both arms held over his head. He enjoyed the sweet relief that came with the action. He even closed his eyes to revel better in it.


    When he opened his eyes, he started at the view in front of him.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a new skill has been added to a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    ¡°Yes,¡± he muttered under his breath.


    His skill selection appeared in front of him.


    [Narcolepsy]


    The Gifted regains a full health status when they fall asleep.


    [Sword of Light]


    The Gifted wraps their sword in light, giving it heat properties.


    [Echo Draw]


    The Gifted cuts twice in one motion.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.


    Well there goes fist of thunder, he thought, reading the options. And again, Rings of Saturn is here to stay.


    Narcolepsy sounded like a useful support skill. He couldn¡¯t see it working as his main skill in anyway. Not if he wanted to go after what he wanted. The strong didn¡¯t sleep as their main course of action.


    ¡°You coming?¡±


    Melmarc looked up to find Delano and Eroms waiting for him. The rest of their classmates were already in a steady stream towards the exit.


    ¡°Yea,¡± he mumbled.


    He removed his earbuds from his ears and was keeping them in his case when he noticed one of them was not in his ear.


    He looked up at Delano. ¡°Did you take my earbud?¡±


    ¡°Yea.¡± Delano tapped his right ear. ¡°Now, come on. I don¡¯t need Mrs. Ella shouting at me in front of everyone. You know she¡¯s out to get me.¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s out to get you,¡± Eroms said sarcastically.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    They got down from the bus and onto the entrance of an extravagantly large compound. They¡¯d made their way into the gates at some point while Melmarc was sleeping and were in the compound proper.


    The ground was completely free from winters touch. It was tarred like a proper road, and when Melmarc followed it with his eyes, he learnt that it had its own roundabout, complete with a water fountain that then dissected it into two more roads that led in two different directions.


    Anywhere that wasn¡¯t tarred road was a properly mowed lawn, well cared for as would be expected in spring.


    But it¡¯s winter, he thought, looking around like a tourist.


    He almost bumped into another student when Eroms pulled him back by his collar. On one side of him Delano laughed.


    ¡°Trippy right?¡±


    Melmarc thanked Eroms then continued staring. ¡°Am I the only one who¡¯s impressed by this. It¡¯s winter and everything¡¯s so¡­ warm.¡±


    There wasn¡¯t even any steam coming out of his mouth as he spoke.


    ¡°It¡¯s funny how both your parents are Delvers yet this impresses you.¡± Melmarc took of his hand gloves and shoved them in his jacket pocket, then he zipped his jacket down.


    ¡°We are nothing but a humble family,¡± he commented absently.


    In front of them was the center of attraction in the entire compound. There were sculptures of different kinds littering the compound at strategically placed position. Statues and simply carfted bushes that looked at little too life-like.


    But none of them compared to the mansion in front of them. It was large, and yet large would be an understatement.


    It was at least thirty floors high, but was clearly designed as a simple living home. Its outside was painted a deep brick brown and lights streamed out from the multiple windows that were too many to count.


    ¡°It¡¯s massive,¡± he commented to no one in particular.


    Behind him Eroms said, ¡°That¡¯s how everyone reacts the first time. The first time Delano saw it he called it a waste of money.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s a waste of money,¡± Delano said.


    They were all walking now. At the head of the procession was Mrs. Ella and another teacher whose name Melmarc did not remember. All he remembered about the man was that he taught one of the classes and was the shortest teacher in school.


    They were the last in the procession, so they walked easily.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Melmarc said, realizing what Eroms had said. ¡°This isn¡¯t you guys¡¯ first time here?¡±


    Delano shook his head. ¡°Nope. This was where we stayed for last year¡¯s trip.¡±


    ¡°It must¡¯ve cost a fortune.¡±


    ¡°What can I say? Our school¡¯s not broke.¡± Delano made a staggering turn. ¡°By the way, didn¡¯t you say your parents were out of town for work? How¡¯d you get them to sign the forms.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t. My uncle signed them.¡±


    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have let you come if it wasn¡¯t your parents¡¯ signature on the form. You know they have them on record, right?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Melmarc¡¯s hands were getting hot so he took his gloves off and zipped his jacket down. ¡°Do you really believe they check all the student¡¯s forms to be sure their parents signed them?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Delano answered flatly.


    ¡°Last year my mom signed the wrong signature and they had to call her to confirm she was the one that did the signing,¡± Eroms offered.


    Melmarc paused. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ thorough.¡±


    ¡°They have to be when you consider how much we pay for tuition.¡± Delano took of his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. ¡°This place is never cold, its always like summer in here.¡±


    ¡°I heard they have at least three Elementalists on call,¡± Eroms said. ¡°My dad said major companies do, especially the ones that deal in outdoor events.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    Delano nodded sagely. ¡°Makes sense. If you have enough Elementalists weather control doesn¡¯t seem like a far stretch.¡±


    They were close to the entrance to the main building now, and Mrs. Ella was giving a quick speech to the students. From where they were, Melmarc could barely make out what she was saying.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Delano went on. ¡°The place apparently belongs to a former Delver. A-class, I think. He quit the Delving thing and started up a business. No one knows what it is, but this is like the by-product of the business.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the business?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°And how do you even know this?¡±


    ¡°I found out when we came back from last year¡¯s trip. When you go to a place that only employs Gifted, you ask questions. I even found out that he only uses the place to host school trips. Sometimes it¡¯s for schools that can¡¯t raise the money to house so many students in a hotel, and sometimes it¡¯s for schools like ours who have the money but want to spend less.¡±


    ¡°If this is the by-product, then what exactly is the business?¡±


    Delano shrugged. ¡°No one knows. But there are theories, if you¡¯d like to know.¡±


    His friend had one of his mischievous grins on his face that told Melmarc he was better off not asking for more information.


    But he¡¯d be lying if he said he wasn¡¯t curious. By normal Delver standards, his parents were rich. They didn¡¯t live rich, but he knew they were very rich. But he didn¡¯t think they had enough money to fund a place like this.


    ¡°Conspiracy theories or normal theories?¡± he asked.


    Delano chuckled. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    ¡°So, apparently,¡± Delano said with much enthusiasm. ¡°People think he¡¯s a Medium.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    Mediums were a non-combat class and, generally speaking, not a very sought after class. Yes, they were exactly like mediums and psychics who claimed to call on the spirit of the dead and do s¨¦ances and stuff like that.


    With the rise of the Medium class and such similar classes, one thing had been put to rest. You could not summon the dead. Still, there were still people walking around and into Medium shops to talk to their dead loved ones.


    Melmarc never held it against anybody, because if he was being honest, he was pretty agnostic about those things.


    Call him a coward, but he really didn¡¯t have a stance on the subject. Personally, he didn¡¯t believe in it. As for if he thought it was real, he couldn¡¯t say. After all, there were people who believe the world was flat and then there were those, like him who believed it was round.


    One of them was right and the other was wrong.


    It¡¯ll be a kicker if the world¡¯s actually like a trapezoid or something, and both parties are wrong, he chuckled.


    Delano¡¯s face scrunched up in worry. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°Trapezoid world.¡±


    ¡°Okay. You think up the weirdest things, but Eroms and I accept you for who you are. Anyway, as I was saying. So there are people in the community that believe he¡¯s actually an A-rank Medium with a specialization in blood magic.¡±


    ¡°You mean he specialized? Don¡¯t most Mediums diversify so they can kind of do everything.¡±


    ¡°But he chose to specialize in blood. The theory says it made him very tanky in fights.¡± Delano pulled out his phone and typed a few things. ¡°Here.¡±


    Melmarc took the phone. Eroms peered at it from over his shoulder.


    On Delano¡¯s phone was a news article with the picture of a pale looking man with deep, long, black hair. He looked maniacal with whips of blood flashing around him. He wore a trench coat of crimson red and was stepping on someone¡¯s head.


    His victim didn¡¯t look so good.


    Melmarc sighed and gave the phone back to Delano. ¡°Now I get why you¡¯re so interested in him.¡±


    Delano laughed. ¡°It may have started because of the money, but you obviously can¡¯t believe I¡¯m still interested just because he¡¯s rich.¡±


    Someone stepped out of the front door of the house. They exchanged a few words with their teachers and everyone started shuffling forward and into the house.


    ¡°Just for the record.¡± Melmarc started walking. ¡°There¡¯s no vampire class.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no vampire class¡­ yet,¡± Delano corrected.


    Certain class speculations were a growing theory in the communities Delano ran with online. The vampire class was one of them.


    The community believed that there was a class that fed on the blood of people to get stronger. But till this day there were no records of any such class.


    Obviously, that did not deter the theorists. Instead, it led to an expansion on the conspiracy. So they also believed that it was a class of immortal Gifted that snatched up anybody that got the class and hid them from the world.


    They lurked the night scavenging for food and sometimes saving the world. Apparently, there was like a cabal of ancient vampire classes that protected the world from other vampire classes.


    Delano believed the government was aware of this.


    Melmarc thought it was too movie plot to be real. Though, the picture in the news article did tick the boxes for a vampire. Still, there was no record of such a class so it was difficult to believe.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Delano went on, returning his phone to his pocket as they walked into the mansion. ¡°Dracula was a vampire.¡±


    ¡°Dracula is a fictional character built off the personality of a Romanian ruler. He wasn¡¯t a vampire. The real person was probably a Gifted, at best. But not a vampire.¡±


    ¡°I lightly disagree. What if he was, in fact, a vampire? And what if he¡¯s not dead, merely one of the founding members of the vampire cabal?¡±


    Melmarc blinked. ¡°You¡¯re serious? No, what am I saying? Of course you are.¡± He sighed softly. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s play hypothetical. Let¡¯s agree that there really are vampires somewhere out there in Romania that rule the vampire world turning other selected people into vampires.¡±


    ¡°Obviously they wouldn¡¯t be turning people into vampires,¡± Delano interrupted. ¡°I¡¯m a member of a conspiracy theory community not the league of extraordinary delusionists. If they could turn people into vampires we¡¯d be hunting vampires everyday while our numbers dwindled.¡±


    ¡°So some vampire theories make enough sense to stand while others don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. It¡¯s a theory not a delusion. It has to be logical somehow.¡±


    Melmarc turned to Eroms. ¡°Is this how it works?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he nodded. ¡°Two years ago, he was going on and on about how heaven is a real place and angels are real. Apparently his group thought that there was a portal somewhere that opened up and into a world with angels.¡±


    ¡°The theory¡¯s already been debunked.¡± Delano waved it aside. ¡°Some dude saw a picture of a winged monster that looked like large fairies and started shouting angels in the group. Turned out he was a Christian and just really, and desperately wanted angels to be real.¡± He scoffed. ¡°We uncover conspiracies not go on wild goose chases.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn¡¯t sure how to handle that little piece of information.


    He also wasn¡¯t very sure how Delano would handle what he knew about that little piece of information. He could very well drive his friend down a rabbit hole if he said anything.


    So he settled for a grunt.


    ¡°Anyway, the vampire thing doesn¡¯t sound feasible but I wouldn¡¯t really argue against it.¡±


    Delano gave him a worried look. ¡°That was quite the one-eighty. Is there something your government employed Delver parents have said that I should know about?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re incorrigible.¡± Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Imagine how much fun the world would be if we had super heroes?¡±


    He was hoping to change the topic.


    Inside the mansion was as grand as outside. It was well lit in yellow lights from strategically placed bulbs. But the most of it came from a massive chandelier that dangled from the ceiling. It was extremely wide, and was shaped like a series of constellations.


    They stood in a wide hallway, standing in front of a central, grand stair case fully outfitted with the velvet carpet.


    At the head of the staircase was the owner of the house. He stood there talking to someone about something, paying them no attention.


    Maybe he is a vampire, Melmarc thought.


    He looked quite pale despite looking so young. Melmarc stared at him as Eroms answered him about superheroes.


    ¡°We already have super detectives. I think those are our version of heroes.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Delano added. ¡°We already have people who go around wearing spandex and beating up bad guys with Classes. Most of them work for the government, and some of them are just really advanced neighborhood watches.¡±


    Eroms actually chuckled at that. ¡°Also, the Gifted accords wouldn¡¯t really let that work.¡±


    Oh, that¡¯s true.


    Every country had their own version of the accords. But in summary, it simply entailed something along the lines of no Gifted holding any office that carried great military power. No Gifted was allowed to assault a non-Gifted, kind of the way professional fighters were dealt a heavier punishment if they got into a street fight.


    So the Gifted couldn¡¯t really go around saving the day since a lot of bad guys usually turned out to be just bad guys. There were the sudden and occasional menaces of someone who got their powers causing chaos and terrorism, but it wasn¡¯t as common as people would like to think.


    In situations like that, the police had its own unit that deployed a Gifted to the scene. There were often rumors of Gifted fights in places, but most of them ended as rumors and rarely ever made the news.


    So the idea of superheroes, while cool, wasn¡¯t very feasible.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Delano added quickly as their host finally turned to face their group, ¡°who would want to waste their time putting on a face mask, a spandex, a cape, and some boots to go out and save the world. By the time they¡¯re dressed the bad guy¡¯ll probably have had his fill and dipped.¡±


    Then he tapped Melmarc and nodded towards their host as if he wasn¡¯t already staring at the man.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to admit, though, he looks like a vampire.¡±


    Well, so much for trying to change the subject.


    Their host came to a stop halfway down the stairs. It placed him in just the right spot for everyone in the group to see him, and for him to see everyone.


    ¡°Welcome once again to my humble abode, everyone,¡± he said. ¡°My name is Vlad Alexandru, and I will be your resident vampire.¡±


    He waited for his words to sink in. Clearly he was expecting a reaction in the silence that met him.


    Unfortunately, the lady he had recently been talking to at the top of the stairs did a poor job of hiding her amusement behind the hand she held over her mouth. So the joke didn¡¯t carry enough tension as was intended.


    Vlad turned to the lady and shook his head in disappointment before turning back to them.


    ¡°Let¡¯s try that again. My name is Vlad Alexandru, and I will be your host.¡± There less dramatization in his words this time. ¡°I¡¯m sure a lot of you that weren¡¯t here last year might have already looked me up on the internet. So I¡¯m here to assure you that I am, in fact¡­ not a vampire. I am an A-class Alchemist¡­¡±


    ¡°I thought you said he was a Medium,¡± Melmarc whispered to Delano.


    ¡°The last time we were here, he said he was an A-class Namer. You can¡¯t believe everything he says. Besides, there¡¯s always one sick child at the end of the trips, it¡¯s one of the rumors of this place. Last time it was Jake.¡±


    That was weird.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t Jake transfer a month after that trip?¡±


    ¡°Yes. To a different state.¡±


    There was an odd enough certainty in Delano¡¯s voice that worried Melmarc. It worried him enough to ask.


    ¡°Why did we really come for this trip, D?¡±


    Delano didn¡¯t take his eyes off Vlad. ¡°For the African exhibit in the museum.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe this was happening.


    ¡°You¡¯re here to snoop around, aren¡¯t you? How did you even know this was where we were going to be staying?¡±


    ¡°It said so on the board back in school.¡± Delano shrugged. ¡°Honestly, there was a part of me that thought you knew. Come to think of it, I remember telling you.¡±


    He had, at Lulu¡¯s diner. But Melmarc hadn¡¯t thought they were going to be snooping around someone¡¯s mansion in search of incriminating evidence that proved they were vampires.


    What exactly would even be proof? A blood bank? A person with their head ripped off?


    I really hope it¡¯s not a person with their head ripped off.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about this. If he knew Delano well, and he liked to think he did, his friend would find a way to sneak around at night. Which meant it would most likely be with him and Eroms.


    He would¡¯ve liked to claim that it wasn¡¯t the reason he was here, but that wouldn¡¯t be correct. He liked the idea of seeing the African museum, but he was really here to spend time with his friends.


    And they would, technically, be spending time together.


    Spending time proving the existence of vampires.


    This wasn¡¯t how the trip was supposed to go.

 TWENTY-FOUR: The Right Things The Wrong Way

    Delano lay on a bed of white sheets. It was large enough for two people and it was one of three beds in the room.


    Once their host who may or may not be an Alchemist had finished addressing them, they¡¯d been ushered all up to their rooms.


    Considering the size of the house, Melmarc had thought they¡¯d each get their own rooms but Mrs. Ella had been vehemently against the idea. Apparently, they were to be the only guests the mansion would be having for the weekend so there were more than enough rooms to spare.


    To the groans and complains of some of his classmates, Mrs. Ella had insisted on shared rooms.


    Obviously, the girls paired up with each other, and the boys did the same. When the groupings were formed, Mrs. Ella took one look at them and disagreed with it.


    ¡°I leave you five together and you might as well burn the whole house down,¡± she muttered as she split a group of five boys who already looked like they were planning on breaking a few windows.


    ¡°And all you¡¯ll do is try to find the fastest way to get drugs in the house.¡±


    She split another group.


    ¡°Ha! I have no idea how you two thought I wouldn¡¯t notice.¡±


    And so groups were disbanded and new ones created. Melmarc had been worried they¡¯d put him in a different group from his friends, and prayed it would not be the case.


    He wasn¡¯t sure how he was going to survive the night sharing a room with one of his classmates he never spoke to.


    He would have to be disobedient and sneak out in the night.


    But when Mrs. Ella got to them, all she had was a confused frown.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say I have a problem with this,¡± she mused. ¡°I certainly can¡¯t put Delano with any of the others. He¡¯ll just say something and they¡¯ll beat him in his sleep¡­ And, honestly, I won¡¯t blame them. And you,¡± she looked at Melmarc. ¡°Well you¡¯re really the only one that knows how to handle him.¡±


    When she looked at Eroms her frown only deepened.


    After a while, she dipped her hands in one of her pockets¡ªall her clothes had pockets, even her gowns¡ªand brought out a bubble gum.


    ¡°Gum?¡±


    Eroms took it with a generous thanks.


    Now they sat in their room. One of the house maids had arrived earlier to inform them that dinner was ready, and was totally optional. She¡¯d also given Delano a warm smile before she¡¯d left.


    When she was gone, Delano had suggested they wait a bit longer, go down late.


    There wasn¡¯t a soul in the room that didn¡¯t know why he wanted them to go late.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t she the one I saw making hand gestures at the window?¡± Melmarc asked after a while. ¡°At first I thought she was cleaning, then she turned and her hands were together, no tools or anything.¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡± Delano tossed one of his three pillows in the air and caught it. ¡°I saw her doing it last year, too. I think she¡¯s a Weaver.¡± He made a few hand gestures, some of them involved interlacing his fingers.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Apparently, it¡¯s the one she uses to increase her horniness.¡±


    Melmarc rolled his eyes. ¡°Sure it is.¡±


    He was sitting on his bed, undoing the laces of his shoes. When he¡¯d taken them off, he flopped down on the bed with his back.


    It was soft, and very comfortable.


    ¡°If your vampire theory is remotely true, shouldn¡¯t all his staff be vampires? Or, at least, most of them.¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Delano didn¡¯t seem very interested in the conversation. ¡°Could be he¡¯s hiding the others in the massive mansion and trying to lull all of us into a false sense of security by telling us he¡¯s a vampire as a joke. He used the same joke last year.¡±


    "I thought he said he was a namer."


    Delano nodded. "He said that, too. And said he might be a vampire as well."


    ¡°And you think that¡¯s like reverse psychology?¡± Melmarc let out a comfortable breath. The bed was way too cozy. ¡°So it¡¯s like, I¡¯ll joke about being this so you guys don¡¯t think it¡¯s what I am.¡±


    ¡°Hiding in plain sight,¡± Eroms said. He was at the wardrobe, unpacking some of Delano¡¯s things.


    Melmarc wanted to ask why Delano didn¡¯t just unpack his own things. It wasn¡¯t like they were here to stay for a week. He wouldn¡¯t have packed too many things.


    ¡°Wait. We¡¯re only here for the weekend. What did you pack?¡±


    ¡°One shirt, including this one.¡± Delano tugged at the collar of his tee. ¡°One pair of shoes for tomorrow, some underwear, and two pants. And some toiletries. Tooth brush, paste, soap. Things like that.¡±


    Melmarc pointed at Eroms. ¡°Then what has he been putting in the cabinet.¡±


    Eroms pulled another item from the bag and held it up.


    ¡°Snacks?¡± Melmarc was confused. ¡°So he packed a food bag which he finished on the road, then packed snacks in your bag. What¡¯s in his bag?¡±


    Eroms looked at Delano, then Melmarc. Then he bent to pick up his bag at his feet.


    Delano waved him to stop with a gesture. ¡°It¡¯s just more food. He¡¯s been eating a lot lately and his parents seem to be happy with it. And since my parents adore him so much and he doesn¡¯t seem to be getting fatter, no one seems to mind. He''s always eaten like a horse so it''s good. Anyway, Eroms, check the door.¡±


    That grabbed Melmarc¡¯s attention. ¡°Why is he checking the door?¡±


    Eroms was already moving. He got to the door and opened it. He stuck his head out for a few seconds then brought it back in.


    ¡°Empty.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Delano dropped the pillow he¡¯d been handling. ¡°Close it. Lock it.¡±


    Eroms obeyed promptly.


    Sometimes Melmarc didn¡¯t understand their friendship. One moment Eroms could completely disregard Delano, and the next moment he treated him like he was his commanding officer.


    Melmarc checked the time on his phone and it was just a few minutes to nine.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it a bit too early to be snooping around if we don¡¯t want to get caught?¡±


    Delano paused. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Weren¡¯t we about to go snooping around?¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± Delano checked his phone. ¡°Dude, it¡¯s just a few minutes to nine. What kind of snooper snoops on people this early? And how are we going to go snooping if Eroms is locking the door?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc¡¯s lips pursed in embarrassment. ¡°So why is he locking the door?¡±


    ¡°Because we have something to talk about.¡± Delano gestured to Eroms. ¡°Come have a sit.¡±


    He patted the side of his bed and Eroms joined. Since his bed was the one in the middle, it was the closest to Melmarc¡¯s.


    ¡°Should I check the windows?¡± Eroms asked, hesitant.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Delano waved the question aside. ¡°Nah. We¡¯re on the third floor. Anyone who¡¯s so determined to be a part of this that they¡¯re at the window kinda deserves to be a part of this.¡±


    When Eroms sat down, Delano looked at him and added: ¡°Now I¡¯m about to tell you something important, so I need you to control yourself, alright?¡±


    Eroms nodded with a blank look on his face. Melmarc simply shook his head.


    Eroms had never had an issue controlling himself. If anything, he was like the expressionless friend, not because he was somehow stone-cold, but because sometimes he acted slow. Even when he got jokes, he looked as if he didn¡¯t get them.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Delano asked.


    Eroms nodded.


    ¡°Alright, get this. Melmarc is Gifted.¡±


    Eroms said nothing, did nothing.


    After a while a small smile stretched his lips. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what to do with that. Delano didn¡¯t even seem to be bothered by it.


    The smile widened until what was left was for Eroms to start laughing. But he didn¡¯t.


    Instead, he got up from his bed, walked up to Melmarc and hugged him. It was a big and complete hug. His arms practically wrapped around Melmarc and he lifted him up from his bed.


    ¡°I get it, big guy.¡± Melmarc patted his friend¡¯s side since both his arms were locked down by his side. ¡°Thanks for the congratulations.¡±


    Eroms put him back down gently and released him. Then he went back to sit next to Delano. He sat a little too close but Delano didn¡¯t seem to mind.


    ¡°So,¡± Delano said. ¡°What skills did you get? Since you¡¯re learning chess, I take it you haven¡¯t chosen yet. Probably ditched the Juggernaut idea. Going for something more intelligence based?¡±


    The answer to that wasn''t completely simple. It had taken Melmarc only a moment to realize he couldn''t go the juggernaut route. His skills were based on what he was already proficient in. He didn''t have any proficiency in physicality, and he doubted he had the time to develop it. So he was diversifying. For now, he could train his mind.


    If he didn''t get something good by the time the trip was over, he would resume on his training on other possibilities when he got home. For now, he worked with the little he had.


    As for the question?


    Melmarc told them easily. He told them of the skills he¡¯d gotten at first and the ones he¡¯d lost. He also told them of the new ones he¡¯d gained in exchange. He spoke of [Rings of Saturn] as well, but left out how he felt about it and why.


    He didn¡¯t necessarily feel like talking about that part of his past just yet. Everyone knew of the attack, but no one knew the details. No one knew how much he knew.


    Delano stroked his clean jaw thoughtfully. ¡°So you didn¡¯t want to accidentally get Monk.¡±


    ¡°Monks usually find themselves charging into the fight.¡±


    ¡°So do Juggernauts.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but Monks are more offensive oriented. Juggernauts are defensive¡­ in a manner of speaking.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re scared but don¡¯t want people to know you¡¯re scared.¡±


    Melmarc blinked in confusion. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Well, I take it you want to be a very strong Delver, but you don¡¯t want to have to fight, because you¡¯re scared of the outcome of a fight, but you also want to be able to protect your friends.¡± He pointed at him and Eroms. ¡°In case you thought I was talking about your team mates, I was not. I was talking about us. So you¡¯re going for a powerful pacifist. Strong enough to say he doesn¡¯t want to fight, and protect people at the same time.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t really thought about it that way. But now that Delano put it like that, it kind of felt noble.


    ¡°I guess you can put it that way.¡±


    Delano¡¯s brows furrowed in a frown. ¡°What are you smiling for? That wasn¡¯t a compliment. And before you go and start thinking that¡¯s a compliment because it¡¯s somehow noble¡ªbecause that¡¯s what Eroms said when I told him the same thing¡ªit¡¯s not.¡±


    Melmarc laughed. ¡°Sorry to break it to you, D. But it is.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not. Let me tell you why.¡± Delano raised a finger to stall his argument. ¡°If you¡¯re going to be a pacifist, be a pacifist. Get the required tools and use them correctly. You don¡¯t take a gun and use it to build a house. If you pray for a specific Class, then you owe it to that Class to use the Class the way it was intended to be used. Juggernaut, for instance, is a class that gives you the strength to destroy things in one shot.¡±


    ¡°And take a lot of blows without falling.¡±


    ¡°Arrrgh!¡± Delano pulled at his hair. ¡°You sound like a Juggernaut applying for a support role in a Delving team. No one will take you seriously. You know why? Because a Juggernaut is not a support role. A Juggernaut is like the Hulk. Smash. That¡¯s it. Only idiots think otherwise.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow. ¡°Okay, now you¡¯re just being mean.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not being¡ª¡±


    Delano cut himself off with a deep breath. A very deep breath.


    ¡°Marc,¡± he started afresh, his tone more controlled. ¡°You¡¯re trying to choose Juggernaut for all the wrong reasons. You won¡¯t like it.¡±


    There was a touch of silence after that. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to break it or if he even wanted to.


    Eroms had no such compunction.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t say sorry for being mean,¡± he said.


    Delano¡¯s face turned up in confusion and Melmarc started laughing.


    Delano turned on Eroms. ¡°You have got to be kidding me, right? I wasn¡¯t being mean, some of the things I said just sounded mean.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what being mean is.¡±


    Delano opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned to Melmarc and repeated the same motion. Opened his mouth. Closed it.


    Melmarc held both hands up. ¡°Sorry, but I can¡¯t help you on this one. Besides, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to be getting the Juggernaut class.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, the message I got said that the skills I¡¯m getting are based on what I have proven to be capable of. I¡¯ve thought about it and Juggernaut isn¡¯t me. In any way.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± Delano adjusted on the bed so that there was a little space between him and Eroms. ¡°Then what are you trying to go for now?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet. My uncle said it won¡¯t be a bad idea to wait it out, but I should take a world skill if I get one.¡±


    ¡°Everyone knows you should take a world skill if you get one.¡± He thumbed at Eroms. ¡°Even he knows that, and he sounds like he lives under a rock when anyone¡¯s talking about the Gifted.¡±


    Eroms nodded as if there hadn¡¯t been an insult in there somewhere.


    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re actually holding out for a World skill?¡± Delano asked. ¡°Dude, you¡¯ll end up waiting forever. You don¡¯t want to end up like Bob Slater.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Bob Slater?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Bob Slater.¡± Delano made a vague gesture with his hand. ¡°B-rank Brewer of Coffee. He waited too long and only ended up with the Brewer of Coffee class, so all he does is make coffee in France somewhere. They say he''s unsuccessful at it but most of the people in my community have their reservations.¡±


    ¡°I know who Bob Slater is. I¡¯m just confused as to how you know who Bob Slater is. I didn¡¯t find out until my uncle told me.¡±


    Delano snorted. It was the most pompous snort Melmarc had ever heard.


    ¡°Everyone in the community knows who Bob Slater is. He¡¯s the only person to ever be given one main skill and one support skill to choose from. And no one knows why it happened. It would¡¯ve been better if he¡¯d gotten the Barista class, at least it gives some points to dexterity and agility. All his class allows him to do is make a proper coffee.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. It looked like he was slacking on his Gifted knowledge.


    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m not waiting for a world skill,¡± he said, then fluffed a pillow and placed his head on it. ¡°But I don¡¯t want a skill I won¡¯t like.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s say you do get a World skill, you know once you start choosing, you¡¯ll have to finish choosing. No more new skills?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s only if I get a World skill. Besides, you can¡¯t go wrong with a World skill.¡±


    ¡°Alright. That makes sense. So what¡¯s chess going to bring?¡±


    Melmarc stared at the ceiling. ¡°Do you know that for you to be good at chess, you have to know where all your pieces are as well as where all your opponent¡¯s pieces are, as well as what influence they can have on the game if and when they move?¡±


    ¡°Same thing with shogi and checkers.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t add checkers to that list. And I don¡¯t know anything about shogi.¡± Melmarc raised his hand and stared at the back of it. He¡¯d lost a number of chess matches with it. ¡°But chess. Now I remember why I¡­ What I¡¯m trying to say is, in chess you have to predict the moves of at least thirty-two pieces with over sixteen possible moves per turn.¡±


    Delano made a thoughtful sound. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re trying to get a complicated skill. What kind of skill¡­ or Class, works like that?¡±


    He made slow hand signs, that drew Melmarc¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Does that really increase that maid¡¯s horniness?¡± he asked.


    Delano nodded. ¡°At least that¡¯s what she told me.¡±


    ¡°And you remember it.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°You know that only works if you¡¯re a Weaver, right?¡±


    ¡°I do. But you never know.¡±


    ¡°So what are you trying to do; increase your horniness?¡±


    Eroms looked at Delano then switched to Melmarc¡¯s bed.


    Delano dropped his hands. ¡°Ewww. Of course not. I¡¯m stuck here with dumb and dumber, why would I want to do that? I¡¯m hoping it will increase her horniness. It¡¯s a holiday and I¡¯m trying to get laid.¡±


    ¡°I have a feeling she wouldn¡¯t come to you if she got horny.¡± Eroms shook his head. ¡°Besides, the door¡¯s locked. And isn¡¯t she like twenty-something? You really need to dial down on your attraction to older ladies until you¡¯re eighteen. You¡¯ll get someone in jail.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the point. And it doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m more concerned about what skill you¡¯re trying to get. It¡¯s going to be high in intelligence, you know that, right? But I thought you said you didn¡¯t want something that¡¯s intelligence based.¡±


    ¡°Remember that chess prodigy that became a Gifted?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Delano just stared.


    ¡°The one with the Archer class but somehow uses a gun?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Delano snapped his finger. ¡°You¡¯re trying to get that guy¡¯s skill? But that¡¯s rare. And he¡¯s a chess prodigy, and you¡¯re¡ªno offence¡ªyou.¡±


    ¡°I know what I am,¡± Melmarc said, slightly offended. ¡°I lost four games in a row to a fourteen-year-old. I¡¯m not trying to get that guy¡¯s skill. I¡¯m trying to get something like it.¡±


    ¡°Something to increase your spatial awareness. But what good¡¯s that going to do you? Those kinds of skills are more useful for a ranged class. So it¡¯ll only work if you plan on picking the Rings of Saturn.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t necessarily agree with that.


    ¡°I still have about a week,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll find something I like.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Delano didn¡¯t sound sure.


    Eroms phone suddenly started ringing, drawing everyone¡¯s attention.


    Melmarc looked at him. ¡°That your mom?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Eroms brought the phone out of his pocket and showed Delano.


    Delano smiled. ¡°I guess it¡¯s go time. Go get the door.¡±


    ¡°Go time?¡± Melmarc asked, confused. ¡°You¡¯re putting a lot of seriousness into dinner. Their cooking can¡¯t be that good.¡±


    Eroms unlocked the door. Then he went to the cabinet where he¡¯d been stashing the snacks earlier. He put his hand in his own bag and brought out a flashlight.


    Melmarc looked from Eroms to Delano. He noticed his friend¡¯s smile a little too late and sighed.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to get dinner, are we.¡±


    Delano was laughing as he got up from his bed. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    This wasn¡¯t how it was supposed to go. He¡¯d told his uncle he was here to see the African museum, and hang out with his friends.


    But it wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. He was about to hang out with his friends, even if it wasn¡¯t at the African museum.


    What even counts as proof that Vlad¡¯s a vampire? He wondered as he left his bed and started putting on his shoes. A dead body? A blood bank? A¡ª


    He saw what Delano was holding and froze.


    ¡°You brought a fucking stake?!¡±

 TWENTY-FIVE: Blood

    Anais had served Vlad for the past twelve years.


    He had adopted her from an orphanage when she was twelve and had raised her ever since. Her only relationship to him prior to being adopted was that he¡¯d known her parents. And all she had to go on as proof of that was his words. Nothing else.


    She knew nothing about her parents except for the fact that they¡¯d died in an explosion. She had questions, all of which had no answers. What caused the explosion? Why were her parents in a place that exploded? Was there anyone who knew anything?


    At first she¡¯d hoped Vlad knew, but he didn¡¯t.


    He was simply an old friend who adopted his friend¡¯s daughter.


    Ever since he¡¯d adopted her, he¡¯d raised her as his own. She was his daughter in all but blood. She had his last name, which was odd considering they had always had the same last name. It had led to a few odd curiosities growing up but she¡¯d never asked them.


    While he saw her as a daughter and cared for her as such, she never really allowed herself develop that attachment to him. She was grateful for what he had done for her, eternally so, but she never thought of him as her father, never allowed herself to.


    Her father was dead, and that was how it was going to be.


    So she took herself as an employee, even if an all too important one.


    At first she had gone out of her way to do as much house chores as she could when they had still been in Romania. Whenever he had to go away into some portal or the other, he would leave her with Tepes, the head butler.


    When he came back, he would find her in a maid¡¯s outfit doing a maid¡¯s chore.


    She could still remember the first day he had come home to find her working. He had been livid, pale skin had turned red, and he¡¯d fumed at the ears. Metaphorically.


    But he never raised his voice, not to her or Tepes. He¡¯d simply taken her duster from her and sat her down in her room.


    At first she¡¯d worried she¡¯d done something wrong. All she¡¯d wanted to do was help out, give back for the kindness he was showing her.


    After a few minutes, he¡¯d come back to her room and squatted in front of her.


    ¡°Why, copilul meu?¡± he¡¯d asked. ¡°Did they make you do it?¡±


    He didn¡¯t look like he believed his own words, and she couldn¡¯t blame him. She¡¯d had a smile on her face and had been dancing as she cleaned.


    She wasn¡¯t stupid, though. She knew she¡¯d missed more than a spot and Tepes was more than happy to get them without her knowledge. But she was working, giving back, and she liked it.


    ¡°No,¡± had been her answer.


    ¡°Then why?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯ve been taking care of me,¡± she¡¯d said, nervous and fidgeting. ¡°I just wanted to work for my pay.¡±


    Vlad had opened his mouth then, and closed it. He had said nothing further after that, he¡¯d simply nodded with an odd expression, and left her room.


    Tepes had come around later that day to assure her that Vlad was not angry with her, that everything was fine.


    It wasn¡¯t until a few years later that she¡¯d discovered what the expression had been. She¡¯d learnt it the morning after her first boyfriend had broken up with her. She¡¯d looked at her face in the mirror before school and had just known it.


    All those years ago, she had broken his heart.


    From the age of twelve to the age of seventeen she worked for him as a maid, while he continued to treat her as a daughter. As time went by, they moved to a bigger house and he employed more maids.


    When she was seventeen, she¡¯d gotten her first skills and had become a Gifted. She gained the class of Weaver and Vlad had celebrated.


    But to her surprise, he had not supported her registration with the Romanian government. So she went from being a maid and a daughter to playing sidekick. At least in the confines of the house.


    Sometimes he would bring home things from work, and have her practice on them. As a Weaver, her skills allowed her complete control over her body as long as she figured out the correct hand gestures. Vlad said she was a type of Weaver known as a Weaver of Self.


    Her class had simply called itself Weaver so she figured she could always diversify and become more than just a Weaver of Self.


    According to her skills the correctly placed hand signs would weave the correct commands over her body. She could make herself more malleable physically or she could make herself as rigid and firm as the bones beneath her muscles.


    She could induce her anger, pumping as much adrenaline into her system as she wanted. She could also induce other chemical emotions. But there were obviously consequences. It was like borrowing from her future self.


    If she made herself too smart today, there was a high chance she would go the next day with an equally opposite IQ. If she was too strong today, she might be too weak tomorrow.


    The trick was in pacing herself.


    Ever since they¡¯d moved from Romania to America, and founded a small dynasty of their own, and by ¡®they¡¯ she meant Vlad, rumors had begun spreading. If it had been about some back-door deals that had led to his rise in power, she would¡¯ve been happy with it.


    But they weren¡¯t.


    She¡¯d seen enough speculations on the internet to know she didn¡¯t like them. Because of his pale skin and often hollow eyes, the Americans often speculated that Vlad was a vampire.


    It was a ludicrous speculation since there were no records of a vampire class ever being in existence. But she knew better than to let it go. She¡¯d seen the things people could do in the name of fear and knew how quickly things could go out of hand.


    But nothing big was yet to happen. His class was nobody¡¯s business but his own. And even if, by some unreasonable stroke of luck, he did have a class called Vampire, so what?


    He wasn¡¯t hurting anybody. She knew him, and knew his kindness.


    After she and the other maids had prepared the children¡¯s rooms and meals, Vlad had called her to his study.


    For the last few days, he¡¯d been working in the same way he had done when they¡¯d still been in Romania. The entire point of coming to America was to retire, to do less dangerous jobs. But he had gone back to something that looked dangerous.


    So now Anais stood in Vlad¡¯s large study waiting on him.


    He stood at the center of the room with his hands clapped together in a prayerful position, covered in blood stains. He held his eyes to the ceiling and simply stood there.


    ¡°Were you able to find anything yesterday?¡± he asked in a low voice.


    People had often described it as sensual, but she always thought of it as caring. It was the voice he used when he felt he was asking too much of her.


    ¡°No, sir.¡±


    He winced at her answer. ¡°I¡¯ve told you before, Anais. You may call me Vlad when we are alone or¡­ Dad, if you¡¯re okay with it.¡±


    There were other alternatives he¡¯d suggested for her before so she chose one of them.


    ¡°My apologies, uncle.¡±


    He took a moment to look at her before dropping his hands. ¡°The police had nothing of any substance. I went through their files two nights ago. They¡¯re lost, chasing the wind. Which is a good thing for us.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Anais didn¡¯t agree with the sentiment, but she would not refute it. ¡°I asked the gang down in third avenue, and they said no one has come asking questions. If any of them saw anything, they aren¡¯t saying.¡±


    ¡°It is not to be unexpected.¡± Vlad walked over to the only desk in the room, careful with his steps. He picked up a hand towel, always wet for this very occasions, and began cleaning his hands. ¡°Low lives and thugs often have no loyalty. Mostly, money is the only thing that would pry their lips open. Did you offer them a price?¡±


    Anais¡¯ lips twisted in a barely restrained scowl. ¡°No.¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    She had wanted to offer them something dastardlier than money. Being around them felt wrong. They kept leering and making snide remarks, like they hadn¡¯t seen a young woman in a maid¡¯s costume before.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing it again,¡± Vlad said


    Anais composed herself as best she could, feigned ignorance. ¡°Doing what?¡±


    ¡°The thing you do when you weaved too much from yourself.¡± He dropped the hand towel on the desk. ¡°Were they that annoying to deal with?¡±


    Anais bit down on her lower lip to hold her tongue. They had been nothing but filth. She¡¯d had to weave herself into stoicism to handle them, weave her emotions into silence. It was one of the benefits of her Weaver type.


    If she was being honest, she sometimes felt like a chemical weaver than a weaver of self, after all, the entire human body was just chemicals. Her skills could make her stronger or weaker, duller or smarter.


    Last night she¡¯d had to use it to silence all her emotions. It was all she could do not to kick one of the men¡¯s teeth in.


    Vlad let out a deep breath. ¡°I see. Perhaps you would like a different task. I can always send Tepes to the thugs while you run down more civilized leads. Perhaps Julian would be a better fit.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Vlad¡¯s lips quirked up in a smile. ¡°You would rather handle thugs?¡±


    ¡°I would rather not have to deal with Julian.¡± She folded her arms in defiance, only to realize it must have come across as nothing but childish to Vlad. ¡°I don¡¯t trust him.¡±


    ¡°No one trusts Julian, Anais. He is a Romanian in America who still holds strong to his ties in Romania. He has dealings with the American government, and even they don¡¯t trust him.¡±


    ¡°And we should trust him less. He could betray us.¡±


    ¡°Could?¡± Vlad chuckled. ¡°I am an A-rank Gifted. Once upon a time, I was a Delver. And Julian¡­ well, he¡¯s simply human. A non-Gifted who continues to wish he could be Gifted. Believe me when I say this: He will betray us.¡±


    Anais disliked this part of her adoptive father. He always saw the worst outcome and walked right into it.


    ¡°If he will betray us, why do we continue to do business with him?¡±


    ¡°Because for this task we must use every available resource we can find.¡±


    ¡°AT WHAT COST?!!!¡±


    Anais bit down on her lower lip, held herself back. Her anger hadn¡¯t even been building. It had simply come out of nowhere.


    Side-effects. Vlad always said her skills¡ªthe way she used them¡ªhad side effects.


    She took a step back, clasped her hands in front of her and bowed at the waist. ¡°My apologies, uncle.¡±


    Vlad smiled softly. ¡°How far did you push it this time?¡±


    Anais didn¡¯t want to say. She didn¡¯t like how he always kept track of how she used her skills. She was a grown woman now. There were women her age who were already full-fledged Delvers.


    But he continued to treat her like a child.


    She raised her head to meet his eyes, and the kind look on his face only infuriated her more. She knew he¡¯d done nothing wrong, her body was just paying the price of her skills. She had suppressed her emotions for a long period of time, so to balance it out, her body was over-emphasizing every little emotion.


    Just a while ago she had looked at a minor like she was flirting with him. He was cute, yes, but he was also a minor.


    Vlad cleared his throat, pulling her attention back to him.


    ¡°Would you like the night off?¡± he asked.


    She would love the night off. ¡°No, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Are you, though?¡±


    ¡°If I leave, who will clean up the mess you¡¯ve made? You can¡¯t use one of the other maids, you know they¡¯re already talking.¡±


    Vlad waved her words aside, unbothered. ¡°They are employees, gossiping about their employer is part of their job. Regardless, I can always have Tepes clean this place up.¡±


    He looked about him.


    The dim lights made the room look less of a mess than it was, but Anais had been here enough times to know it was worse than it looked.


    ¡°Or maybe I should clean myself,¡± Vlad said after a while. ¡°I did make more of a mess than normal.¡± He pinched the neck of his tee and tugged it to have a look. ¡°I even got it on my shirt.¡±


    He let it go and looked at her. ¡°Who¡¯s on cleaning duty today?¡±


    Anais didn¡¯t have to think about it. ¡°On nights like these, I am.¡±


    ¡°You look really irritated at me right now.¡± He narrowed his eyes at her. ¡°Are you just irritated or is it the skill.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s none. We have children in the house. Please, hurry and get yourself cleaned. It would not be nice if the children saw any of this.¡±


    ¡°Let them see.¡±


    Despite his nonchalance he was already moving. He moved away from the desk, leaving bloodstain on the part he had rested on, and headed for the exit.


    ¡°If they see any of this, it will simply be a haunted house moment. It¡¯ll give them more to talk about. Give them the experience of a life time.¡±


    He passed her and she stopped him by holding on to his shirt. ¡°Wrong door.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± He turned around. ¡°It¡¯s the other one I keep locked.¡±


    Anais stood where she was until he was gone. He made his exit through the back door. A door she had insisted they add to the house.


    Why he made the door to his study without a lock was beyond her. He said all the study had to steal were books and nothing of value, but too many maids had stumbled in here after he¡¯d made a mess, some of them had come in while he was making the mess. And it had terrified them.


    ¡°If one of the kids see this, it¡¯ll scar them for life,¡± she grumbled as she made her way to the study¡¯s restroom.


    She didn¡¯t worry for the maids anymore. Vlad was right, all they did was gossip. A few maids had seen the sight and they were still here. At best, they stopped coming this way. At worst, they took a week or two off on sick leave, and returned.


    No. Her real worry was for the kids.


    She packed up a mop and filled a bucket with water. She stepped back into the study and flicked all the lights on.


    There was a small stain on the edge of the large mahogany desk, blemishing its varnished surface. The towel he¡¯d used to clean his hands looked like nothing more than a blood soaked rag, useless and to be thrown away.


    She wasn¡¯t worried about the maids. She was worried for the kids.


    She wet her mop and went to work. She would be mopping for a good while. She wished he¡¯d gotten something like a basement or a large bathroom.


    That would make it easier for her to clean all the blood. But no, God forbid he make her life any easier than he always has.


    She took a deep breath and reminded herself that her current irritation was not his fault. He¡¯s been nothing but amazing to you since the first day.


    She knew it. She really did¡­ But why did he always need to use so much blood.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­..


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you didn¡¯t let me stop for something to eat.¡±


    ¡°Because this was your idea.¡±


    ¡°But you got something to eat¡­ and you let Eroms get something to eat.¡±


    Melmarc sighed. If he was being honest, he didn¡¯t really think he could stop himself from letting Eroms have something to eat. As for Delano? Well, it was just his punishment for making them roam the big house.


    ¡°How exactly are there no maids around?¡± Eroms asked casually.


    ¡°Because they all have a time they¡¯re supposed to go home,¡± Delano answered. ¡°And are you going to be one of those guys who always shows up on the scene with some kind of food in your hands?¡±


    Melmarc paused to take a look at Eroms.


    ¡°Is that the drumstick from your plate?¡±


    Eroms nodded with a full mouth.


    ¡°That was like three rooms ago.¡±


    ¡°Four rooms, one hallway, and a flight of stairs,¡± Delano corrected. ¡°But who¡¯s counting.¡±


    The mansion was as large on the inside as it looked on the outside.


    When Delano had finally allowed them out of their room, everyone else was practically sleeping. They¡¯d gotten their gear¡ªwhich was just three torchlights and Eroms¡¯ bag¡ªthen he¡¯d made them wait another fifteen to thirty minutes.


    Now they strolled casually through the mansion with only their socks on. Why were they wearing socks? Because that way their steps made no sounds. Why were they strolling casually if they were snooping around? That way it would be more believable when they lied that they¡¯d just gotten lost if anyone caught them.


    The ideas were all Delano¡¯s. And since he was the one spear-heading the operation, Melmarc couldn¡¯t really complain about it.


    If they had asked him how they should be going about it, he would¡¯ve said something quite simple. Get downstairs, get their meals, and get back to bed.


    He really, really didn¡¯t want to go around looking for proof of the existence of what may or may not be a vampire.


    ¡°This way,¡± Delano nudged them. ¡°I think I see an open door.¡±


    ¡°Do you also hear voices?¡± Melmarc asked, just because he could.


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Melmarc and Delano froze. They turned to Eroms together.


    Melmarc held his breath for some reason. It was more like his body held it for him than something he was doing on his own.


    ¡°What voices?¡± Delano asked.


    Eroms shrugged, unbothered, then pointed down the hallway. ¡°Someone¡¯s talking down there.¡±


    The hallway was well lit with pictures on the walls and a certain fanciness to it, like it belonged to royalty and not just some rich Delver. It looked like the kind of house you would expect from old money.


    But staring down the path Erom¡¯s finger showed them shifted the mood somehow. The hallways seemed to tunnel, focus on the single room with the single door held ajar.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t the only one suddenly bothered by this because Delano¡¯s once casual steps suddenly began to slow.


    ¡°D?¡±


    Delano gave a full body shake, like an athlete psyching themselves up for an important event.


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°Because you look like you¡¯re trying not to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Door¡¯s opening,¡± Eroms pointed out, and Melmarc froze.


    ¡°Quick,¡± Delano said suddenly, moving towards one of the doors. ¡°Get in he¡ª¡±


    He ran into the door with a clatter. It was locked.


    Melmarc took one look at it and groaned. ¡°Of course it¡¯s locked.¡±


    He¡¯d let them convince him to go snooping in another person¡¯s house and now they were going to get caught. What was going to happen? Would the maid tell on them?


    Was it even a maid? What if it was the owner of the place?


    ¡°It¡¯s stopped moving,¡± Eroms informed them.


    Delano turned on him with a frustrated expression and asked in a sharp whisper. ¡°And why are you even giving commentary?¡±


    ¡°So we don¡¯t get caught.¡±


    ¡°Guess what?¡± Delano stood up to him. ¡°We almost got caught.¡±


    Melmarc watched his two friends stand off and tried not to laugh. Delano was the shortest in the group. Melmarc was taller than him by at least three inches. And Eroms had almost four inches on Melmarc.


    So seeing Delano stand up to Eroms when his head barely reached their friend¡¯s shoulders was funny to watch. Eroms¡¯ absolute lack of concern as he bit into his chicken didn¡¯t make not laughing any easier.


    Delano sighed after a while and turned back to the path. ¡°I swear the only thing that excites him is food.¡±


    ¡°And horse races,¡± Eroms added casually.


    Melmarc nodded as they started walking. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡±


    ¡°A lot of things people don¡¯t know about Eroms,¡± Delano said, eyeing the one unlocked door warily. ¡°Just last week I found out he doesn¡¯t like honey.¡±


    Delano was rambling. It wasn¡¯t unusual, but it clearly was tonight. He was probably trying to get his mind of whatever worry Eroms shenanigans had instilled in them moments ago.


    Thanks, Melmarc thought. I¡¯m not sure I can keep going if my legs keep shaking.


    Delano took a deep breath. ¡°Anyway, enough rambling.¡±


    So he knew he was rambling.


    They stood next to the door now, planted themselves against the wall like the cool military guys did in the movies. The only difference that they didn¡¯t have guns, or cool looking combat uniforms, and there wasn¡¯t some bad guy on the other side of the door.


    Please don¡¯t be a vampire, Melmarc thought.


    Delano pulled his phone out of his pocket. ¡°Just a minute. Anything could be in there, and I want to make sure I catch it on camera.¡±


    ¡°Of course you do,¡± Melmarc muttered sarcastically. ¡°We¡¯re already snooping around, might as well take pictures.¡±


    With his phone ready, Delano reached for the door knob.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± he paused. ¡°It doesn¡¯t turn.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s not locked.¡±


    Delano nodded. ¡°Should I push it?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what the appropriate answer should be. If it had been a few minutes ago, before Eroms had said he¡¯d heard voices, Delano wouldn¡¯t have been asking this question. They would¡¯ve just walked into the one unlocked room they¡¯d seen since they¡¯d snuck out of theirs and just looked around.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how ready he was for that level of responsibility, so he turned to Eroms. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    As obliviously and uncaring as someone focused on a stick of chicken could look, Eroms shrugged. ¡°I smell blood.¡±


    For fuck¡¯s sake!

 TWENTY-SIX: The Museum

    Delano groaned. ¡°Why are you making this scarier than it is?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not making it scarier than it is.¡± Eroms took another bite of his chicken.


    Then he did the unthinkable. He gave it to Melmarc.


    ¡°Hold my stick,¡± he said.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Delano panicked. ¡°Get back to the back.¡±


    Eroms ignored him. He walked up to the door, grabbed the handle and pushed it open.


    Phone camera turned on and held up, Delano darted inside before Eroms could. Melmarc followed quickly behind. They had to be fast if they wanted to catch what was making Eroms smell blood and they needed to¡­


    All three of them paused inside the room.


    It was empty¡­


    Well, not necessarily empty. It was a study, a large one. Its walls were covered in shelves with books of different kinds. There were binders and even newspapers. And by covered in shelves, it was so elaborately and thoroughly done that the shelves might have as well been the walls.


    The only side of the walls not covered in shelves had a large wooden table in front of it. The table was far from simple. It was one of those tables you¡¯d expect to see in a CEOs office. Large, wide, and varnished to a shine.


    Light filled the room from a chandelier that dangled from the roof, casting everywhere in a bright yellow glow.


    ¡°What¡¯s with this guy and chandeliers.¡± Delano had already turned his phone off and put it back in his pocket.


    With nothing to see there was really no need for a phone.


    He was looking around now, approaching one of the book shelves while Eroms simply stood, sniffing the air and frowning.


    ¡°I still smell blood,¡± he said.


    Delano pulled a random book from one of the shelves then put it back. ¡°Of course you do.¡±


    Eroms glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m not saying you¡¯re lying.¡± He pulled another book out and put it back. ¡°But there¡¯s no blood¡­ and no body. Whoever was here¡¯s gone. Probably heard us from a mile away and skedaddled.¡±


    Melmarc spotted a door at the end of the room and pointed. ¡°Maybe they used the door.¡±


    Delano turned as if he was just seeing it. ¡°Wanna bet it¡¯s locked.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡± Melmarc stared at one of the pens on the massive table. It was red with bat designs.


    Does this count as a sign of vampirism, he thought to himself, only half-joking.


    ¡°Still smell blood,¡± Eroms said, and he walked up to the only other door in the room.


    Delano pulled another book from a shelf and put it back in. He was going through the books faster now. Removing and replacing without even opening them.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Secret entrance.¡±


    ¡°You think there¡¯s a secret entrance to another room behind one of the book shelves?¡±


    ¡°I know you think it only happens in the movies, but,¡± Delano removed another book and put it back, ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough videos of houses like this and there is almost always a secret chamber.¡±


    ¡°And you think it¡¯s opened by a false book in a book shelve.¡±


    ¡°Yes. And stop shaking the door like that, Eroms. Let Marc have a go at it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably the bathroom or something. And it¡¯s probably locked since no one¡¯s supposed to be using it right now.¡± Melmarc paused. ¡°Wait, why me?¡±


    ¡°Because,¡± Delano pulled another book and it got stuck. He smiled proudly. ¡°Bingo.¡±


    Eroms stopped whatever he was doing with the door and Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he was supposed to be impressed or terrified. They were in the house of someone who could be a vampire and had just intruded on his study and found a secret room.


    These were all the makings of a horror movie.


    Delano would open the door now and they¡¯d find a winding staircase. Eroms would be the friend that had their back and he would be the voice of reason no one would listen to, and Delano would end up getting all of them sacrificed to a vampire Lor¡ª


    ¡°Shit!¡± Delano muttered under his breath.


    He pulled out the book completely then put it back in.


    ¡°False alarm. Book was just too heavy.¡± He was already moving on to the next book. ¡°Anyway, let Marc have a go at the door, Eroms.¡±


    ¡°Again,¡± Melmarc tossed his hands in exasperation, ¡°why me?¡±


    ¡°Because you know how to pick locks.¡±


    ¡°Can you please stop picking out books, I¡¯m worried you guys might give me a heart attack. And what makes you think I can pick a lock?¡±


    Delano stopped and looked at him, a hand hovering over one of the books. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say your uncle taught you how to pick a lock?¡±


    ¡°My uncle taught my brother how to pick locks.¡±


    ¡°And he didn¡¯t teach you? Why?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°It was a reward thing. Eroms please step away from the door.¡± He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead. ¡°At this rate I¡¯m going to get offered a skill that has to do with fear. Can we please go back to our room before we get caught?¡±


    Eroms and Delano looked at him from opposite sides of the room.


    Then Delano looked at Eroms. ¡°Told you he was a spoilsport.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not a spoilsport.¡± Melmarc pointed at him, then pointed at Eroms. ¡°The door. Leave it. For crying out loud did you ever wonder what could happen if you¡¯re right and Vlad turns out to be a vampire?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Delano looked like he was just now thinking about it. Like really thinking about it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you an idea. We¡¯ll find him with his teeth in someone¡¯s neck, and he¡¯ll see us see him. And we¡¯ll see him see us see him. And he¡¯ll see us see him see us see him. Then guess who¡¯s next on the menu.¡±


    ¡°Eroms? He¡¯s larger so it¡¯ll take a little longer for Vlad to get through him first.¡±


    ¡°Ha ha. You¡¯ve got jokes.¡± Melmarc turned and made his way for the door. ¡°I¡¯m not a spoilsport, I¡¯m just reasonable. How would you feel if you invited a guest over and they just started snooping around and going through your things?¡±


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t really say.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I thought as much.¡±


    This was one of the problems Delvers faced. Their lives were not their own. Everyone wanted to snoop around and learn what they weren¡¯t supposed to learn. People were terrified of them sometimes, but everyone wanted their lives.


    And there were people who made money off taking hidden videos of them, and finding out secrets they would rather keep to themselves.


    Even Gifted high schools were like that.


    There weren¡¯t that many in the country, which meant most of the Gifted children ended up gathering in groups. Most high schools didn¡¯t take in any Gifted higher than a D-rank, and sometimes they didn¡¯t even take the D-ranks, so any Gifted that wanted to continue with school after getting their class had to enroll in a Gifted high school.


    People could scream discrimination all they wanted but uncle Dorthna always explained it properly. When you give a child a knife, someone is liable to get stabbed. If it¡¯s not another child, it¡¯s probably going to be the one with the knife.


    Imagine sixteen and seventeen-year-olds walking around with the ability to punch a hole in the wall. Or better yet, imagine there¡¯s a loner who¡¯s being bullied all the time and one day he decides to snap, and he¡¯s got a skill that can fry someone.


    It served a better purpose teaching the children with classes along with other children with classes. It wasn¡¯t a hundred percent safe, but it was definitely safer than having to explain to a grieving mother why her son went to class on a normal day and had his head melted by heat vision.


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Eroms said finally. He was still standing at the door but he was no longer holding on to the handle. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be happy if I woke up in the night and found a visitor going through my fridge.¡±


    Melmarc pursed his lips. ¡°Uhhh¡­ not really what I had in my mind, but I guess that would work too.¡±


    Delano let out a frustrated groan. ¡°Why do you have to be so reasonable all the time?¡± he was already walking away from the bookshelves. ¡°And why do you always have to be reasonable about being reasonable? Besides, didn¡¯t you say a Vampire class couldn¡¯t be real?¡±


    And I thought angels were too divine to be physically accessible. Definitely didn¡¯t think we¡¯d be able to fight them either.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting something to eat before we get to the room,¡± Delano complained as he opened the door. ¡°Not eating was my punishment for dragging you out. Eating¡¯s my reward for not finishing what I started.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t mind that. He was more concerned by how ludicrous it would be if they opened the door to find someone just standing there, waiting for¡ª


    Something caught his eyes as Delano opened the door. It was just at the edge of his vision, seen in passing. But it was enough to make him hesitate.


    He stared at one of the shelves. It looked slightly off, askew somehow. There was a space between that shelf and the one beside it as long as his finger. Was Delano right? Was there really a secret compartment? Had he just found¡ª


    He froze, staring, unable to move.


    In the dark space between two shelves an eye watched him. It was eerie and still.


    ¡°Marc, you coming?¡±


    It was Delano¡¯s voice. And while Melmarc really wanted to answer, he didn¡¯t know how to. He didn¡¯t have the words or the will. And there was a smell, a strong smell that was crawling up his nostrils.


    ¡°Marc?¡± Delano slipped his head back into the room.


    It startled Melmarc enough to make him stop looking.


    ¡°I thought you wanted to get out of here? There¡¯s no one in the hallway so we should hurry.¡±


    Melmarc looked at the space between the shelves, but nothing was there. Just the easy blackness that could¡¯ve been anything.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ yeah.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s¡­ let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    He followed Delano and they drew the door as shut as they could.


    ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay?¡± Delano asked as they headed down the stairs, making their way to the dining room. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost. Wait. Did you actually see something and not say anything?¡±


    Yes.


    But he wasn¡¯t going to tell his friends that. All it would do was inspire Delano to go back, and Eroms would be more than willing to follow.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± It was the answer he settled for, because it was partly true. He didn¡¯t know what to make of what he saw.


    Had they been caught snooping around? Or had he just caught someone doing something they wouldn¡¯t want others to know?


    It was all about the perspective. And Melmarc couldn¡¯t really get the right perspective.


    One thing he was certain of, however, was that he couldn¡¯t get the smell of blood out of his nostrils now.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    The African museum reminded Melmarc of an art gallery he¡¯d been to with his parents once. But instead of paintings hanging on walls, it had objects in glasses.


    And it was large.


    They¡¯d left the mansion in the morning about an hour after breakfast. No one had said anything but Melmarc had a feeling the extra hour was meant to give them all the time to associate and cause all the troubles they could.


    Vlad had shown his face once more and had looked paler than the night before. If anyone else noticed it, no one was talking about it.


    The same school bus that brought them all the way from school, played its part in bringing them all the way to the museum. And after an hour of walking, Melmarc was right bored of the place.


    The museum was interesting enough as things went. It had a natural lighting that somehow made you feel like it was all sunlight, maybe streaming in form a glass ceiling. But anytime you looked up, you just saw light bulbs strategically placed. The place was busy with the constant movement and conversation of visitors and guests here to see different displays of their different interests.


    It made it less quiet than Melmarc had expected it too be.


    The items on display were¡­ different, to say the least. There were masks and tools, clothing and other paraphernalia. He¡¯d seen a painting of a samurai mask once. The masks had been designed in old japan in visual representation of something called the oni. That had been terrifying to look at.


    The masks he was seeing in the museum were more on the eerie side. It didn¡¯t look like it had been designed to scare you, but it scared you. It was like it scared its viewer simply by being what it was.


    ¡°¡­ And this was given to us from the Edo empire,¡± their tour guide, a tall lanky man in a suit was saying. He looked like one of those people who dedicated their lives to their work, and wore big rimmed glasses. ¡°They say the Oba of Benin gave it as a gift to commemorate the loving and peaceful nature of the colonials at the time. Some say it was a great sign of respect.¡±


    ¡°Great signs of respect don¡¯t end up in museums,¡± Delano whispered beside Melmarc. ¡°They end up in more important places.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t disagree. If it was important, it wouldn¡¯t be on display. It would be somewhere else, somewhere less accessible. Then again, the Mona Lisa was on display in a museum somewhere.


    Delano bumped him on the shoulder as they moved on to another exhibit. ¡°They probably stole it from them.¡±


    ¡°Or took it as payment for something else,¡± someone added.


    Melmarc turned to find a boy he didn¡¯t know.


    He might not have been the most social in his school, but he wasn¡¯t a pariah. He knew every face in his class and almost every name.


    So while it was understandable that he didn¡¯t know the name of the boy who¡¯d spoken, it was a bad sign that he didn¡¯t know the face.


    Delano turned to look at the new face. ¡°And you are?¡±


    ¡°Just passing through on the exhibit.¡± The boy held his hand out for a handshake. ¡°I¡¯m Joshua.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re in the wrong group.¡± Delano didn¡¯t even attempt to take his hand.


    This was one of the reasons he didn¡¯t have many friends.


    Melmarc shook the boy¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m¡ª¡±


    ¡°Alfred,¡± Eroms cut him off, offering his own hand.


    Melmarc released Joshua¡¯s hand so he could shake Eroms.


    Joshua looked Melmarc up and down, then nodded. ¡°Alfred.¡±


    He turned and shook Eroms hand. The rest of the class were already beginning their slow procession to the next exhibit so they could listen to another thirty-minutes history lesson of how the item was a gift from an important member of some land in the African peninsula.


    It was always as a sign of respect for friendly relations and great respect. Honestly, Melmarc didn¡¯t find it hard to believe some might¡¯ve been given as a sign of respect and friendly relations.


    But when every item had ¡®respect and friendly relations¡¯ tagged to their historical description, the stories started to get questionable. Maybe even intentional.


    ¡°We¡¯re losing the others, Alf.¡±


    Melmarc looked at Delano. ¡°Uhh¡­ yeah. We better hurry.¡±


    It took him a moment to remember he was Alfred, for some reason. Eroms¡¯, however, still had Joshua in a handshake and was introducing himself as Jonathan for some reason.


    Melmarc expected such a behavior from Delano, so it was a bit disorienting to have Eroms giving false names.


    ¡°And you are?¡± Joshua asked, holding out his hand to Delano once more.


    Melmarc was impressed. The boy had just had his handshake ignore by Delano and was willing to offer it again. He was either really innocent or really suspicious.


    He had blue eyes, was as tall as Melmarc, wore his hair in a mature way, and had a squared jaw. He also had a fanny pack around his waist with the zip open and an opened wrap of something edible sticking out.


    Suspicious, Melmarc decided.


    He couldn¡¯t find any reason Joshua would want to make friends badly enough that he¡¯d ignore his handshake being ignored and try again. Or maybe he¡¯s just being polite.


    It was logical. After all, he had been the one to join a group he wasn¡¯t a part of.


    Delano looked at the hand, and ignored it again. ¡°You can call me Big C. Come on, guys, the others have left us.¡±


    He made his way in the direction of the group where they were looking at a display of what looked like a machete. It was probably a friendly and respectful machete, like every other thing in the museum.


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of worrying that they left us behind and no one noticed,¡± Melmarc noted as they left Joshua and headed for the others.


    ¡°No, what¡¯s worrying is how easily trusting you can get.¡± Delano looked behind them and confirmed Joshua wasn¡¯t following them. ¡°When a strange boy walks up to your school trip and just slips into the crowd for casual conversations, you don¡¯t go giving them your name.¡±


    Melmarc gave a glance behind them at Joshua. In his white tee and blue jeans, he didn¡¯t look very strange. He looked like he¡¯d made a stroll to the museum to see the exhibits.


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t look strange to me. Besides, Eroms gave him a fake name.¡±


    ¡°Which should tell you a lot.¡± Delano hurried them along. ¡°If you start running into people even Eroms doesn¡¯t trust, maybe you should start asking questions.¡±


    Melmarc looked back again. Joshua was just standing there, waving.


    He waved back hesitantly.


    ¡°Is anyone worried about the fact that the group just walked away from us?¡± he asked as he dropped his hand. ¡°Or at how simply he just walked into the group.¡±


    They were far enough from Joshua now that he wouldn¡¯t hear their conversation and were almost back with the group. ¡°How did he even get in without anyone noticing?¡±


    Delano shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re like thirty people on this trip. And it¡¯s a big museum. I can¡¯t really say I¡¯m surprised it happened.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He¡¯d thought his classmates would¡¯ve noticed. Or at least Mrs. Ella.


    I didn¡¯t even notice until he spoke.


    Was it really a big deal or was he making a big deal out of nothing? And wasn¡¯t it polite to give your name when someone introduced themselves? Was he reading too much into it?


    ¡°Tell me I¡¯m wrong, Eroms, but¡­ Hey, you good?¡±


    Eroms was frowning. Maybe frowning wasn¡¯t the word, but his face was hard. Something was bothering him.


    He didn¡¯t answer at first. He let them get closer to the others. Finally, he said, ¡°He didn¡¯t want to give me his food.¡±


    A message flashed in front of Melmarc before he could reply to that.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a new skill has been added to a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    ¡­


    [Narcolepsy]


    The Gifted regains a full health status when they fall asleep.


    [Knowledge Is Power]


    The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back to them as information


    [Keen Sight]


    The Gifted notices everything within their eyesight.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.


    Melmarc read the new skills. Keen sight and Knowledge Is Power.


    He was sure he¡¯d heard of [Keen Sight] before, and its definition sounded¡­ interesting. It was one thing to see what was in front of you, but it was another to notice everything.


    [Knowledge Is Power] needed some thinking to figure out.


    He understood the first part well enough. The second part was where his understanding became lacking. What exactly did it mean by the mana coming back as information


    It wasn¡¯t down the path of a Strength type, like he was looking for. But it was definitely something, and at this rate something was better than nothing. He could just imagine looking in a direction and seeing everything, not needing to take the time to¡­


    Where he¡¯d heard of the skill Keen Sight before dawned on him and it shook him to his core. He tapped Delano¡¯s shoulder a little harder than he¡¯d intended.


    ¡°Ow! What did I do?¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t bring himself to be bothered by that right now. Besides, sometimes these things happened, you got too excited and hit your friend a little too hard.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he whisper-shouted. ¡°But something just happened.¡±


    ¡°It better be some kind of Gifted bad guy breaking into the museum to steal some old artifact that grants you an invisibility buff.¡±


    Melmarc paused. He looked around. ¡°Uhhh¡­ I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    ¡°Then all I have in response is this.¡± Delano smacked him on the shoulder.


    Melmarc sucked in a sharp hiss, rubbing his shoulder. ¡°Has anyone ever told you that you¡¯re a toxic friend?¡±


    ¡°Eroms tells me all the time.¡±


    Eroms was looking around them. His height made it easy to look over their heads. ¡°I don¡¯t see a bad guy. Unless you count Joshua.¡±


    ¡°Not just a bad guy,¡± Delano explained. ¡°A bad guy with powers.¡±


    Eroms didn¡¯t correct himself.


    Melmarc opened his mouth to bring Delano back to the reason he¡¯d tapped him in the first place but was interrupted by one of their classmates.


    ¡°Where¡¯d you guys go?¡± It was Tracy, she¡¯d sat with Eroms on the way from school and had given him food. ¡°I was looking all over the place for you.¡±


    ¡°Toilet,¡± Delano answered easily.


    Tracy¡¯s eyes narrowed in confusion. ¡°All three of you? At the same time?¡±


    Delano threw an awkward arm over Melmarc¡¯s shoulder. ¡°What can I say? We¡¯re just that tight.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Tracy looked at his arm on Melmarc¡¯s shoulder. She sounded like she didn¡¯t want to touch the subject. ¡°I was just asking because it was weird. You guys were there, then you were gone. It was kinda odd.¡±


    She was paying attention to us?


    ¡°Nice to have you guys back.¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve answered something friendly, even if only to shake off whatever odd vibe Delano had given her with his arm around his shoulder. An arm that was still around his shoulders.


    But she¡¯d been looking at Eroms.


    Regardless, he had more pressing matters to discuss. He shrugged off Delano¡¯s arm and turned to him.


    ¡°I got a new one,¡± he whispered as quietly as he could in the crowd, not wanting to use any specific words that would give him away.


    He was hoping Delano would know what he was talking about.


    ¡°A new¡­¡±


    It took him a moment but Delano figured it out.


    ¡°We can¡¯t talk about it here.¡± Delano slipped his hand in his pocket and was bringing something out. ¡°Too many people. Just type it.¡±


    Melmarc grabbed Delano¡¯s arm before he could bring out his phone. The museum had a no mobile device policy. You could bring your phone in, but you weren¡¯t allowed to be caught using it.


    It was an odd rule, because what if you needed to take a call.


    ¡°No phones allowed,¡± Melmarc reminded Delano.


    Delano was puzzled. ¡°Where did you get that idea from? No one ever said anything about phones.¡±


    Melmarc nodded at one of the posters on the wall. It read in clear black words on white walls: NO MOBILE DEVICES ALLOWED.


    Delano countered it by nodding at a woman in a business suit seated on one of the chairs in the building.


    She had her mobile phone in her ear and was making a call.


    ¡°Well.¡± Melmarc kept a firm hold on Delano¡¯s arm. ¡°It¡¯s probably a very important business call.¡±


    Delano gave him a look, then sighed. ¡°Alright, then how are you going to tell me what I know you want to tell me?¡±


    Melmarc thought about it.


    They were close friends but he didn¡¯t think there were any kind of coded sentences he could use that would not in some way end up being difficult to interpret, and make their conversation sound very awkward.


    ¡°You could write it,¡± Eroms suggested.


    ¡°I could,¡± Melmarc agreed. But he didn¡¯t have a pen. ¡°D, got a pen on you?¡±


    Delano scoffed. ¡°Who brings a pen to the museum? You might as well ask our tour guide over there for one.¡±


    Tracy turned and held out a pen. ¡°I¡¯ve got a pen.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ thank you?¡± Melmarc took it hesitantly.


    ¡°Just give it back when you¡¯re done. It¡¯s the only one I have.¡±


    Delano snatched the pen from Melmarc before he could reply and scribbled quickly on his palm. He showed it to him.


    Has she been listening to us all this while?


    He¡¯d written it in short hand so that it didn¡¯t occupy his entire palm. Words like ¡®been¡¯ were spelled as ¡®bin¡¯ and ¡®while¡¯ was ¡®wyl.¡¯


    ¡°No.¡± Melmarc took the pen from him. ¡°She just overheard us and was nice enough to help.¡±


    With the pen he scribbled his own piece of information and showed them.


    I just got keen sight.


    Delano looked up from his palm. ¡°So?¡±


    Melmarc groaned. Someone in the crowd asked the tourist guide why all the items were given in good faith.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t there anything here we bought?¡± the boy was asking. ¡°You know, paid for with money or something equally valuable.¡±


    ¡°And why is literally everything a gift for friendliness and respect,¡± Delano called out, simply because he could. ¡°You¡¯d think some of them would be¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ smuggled.¡±


    ¡°The museum does not house any¡ª¡±


    The tour guide was interrupted by another of their classmates.


    ¡°The museum doesn¡¯t¡­¡± he tried to finish when another student asked something Melmarc didn¡¯t catch.


    ¡°No, that one was also a¡­ a gift.¡± The tour guide was stumbling over his words. ¡°The museum does not house smuggled or stolen items.¡±


    He seemed quite adamant to finish that sentence, like it was some kind of a disclaimer.


    Delano raised his head to say something else and Melmarc tugged on his sleeves to stop him.


    ¡°D, focus.¡± He tapped his palm.


    ¡°Sorry. What were you saying? Why is this one a big deal, again?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what the chess prodigy we were talking about had.¡±


    Delano looked from him to his palm, and back. Then he looked at Eroms.


    Eroms shrugged.


    ¡°Of course I wasn¡¯t going to ask you,¡± Delano said. ¡°What would you know about¡ªow!¡±


    Eroms had flicked his ear.


    Delano turned to Melmarc with a pained face. ¡°Did you see that?¡±


    Melmarc had seen it, but he needed them to focus right now. He wanted to know if it was a good enough skill to pick. It wasn¡¯t necessarily what he was going for but he¡¯d be stupid to call it bad.


    With a gun and the skill, and no really advanced superhuman strength, the chess prodigy had made himself one of the best shooters there was.


    ¡°Delano.¡± Melmarc¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t loud but it was firm, a harsh whisper.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Delano said. ¡°If it¡¯s what you say it is, then it¡¯s a good one. I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any Strength with this one, though.¡±


    Another of their classmates looked back. Melmarc needed a moment to remember his name, but Delano was already speaking.


    ¡°Yes, we think of any skill combinations and try and figure out what Class it will get. You got a problem with that?¡±


    The boy looked back.


    ¡°And this is why I¡¯m your only friend,¡± Eroms told him.


    ¡°Nope.¡± Delano shook his head. ¡°Marc¡¯s my friend, too.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to groan. He was having a hard time getting them to focus. It wasn¡¯t that they took him for granted, it was simply that they couldn¡¯t stay on certain tasks when they were together. Melmarc had seen them do something similar when their own parents were around.


    The group moved on and they followed.


    ¡°All I¡¯m asking,¡± Melmarc said as they walked, ¡°is if you think this is a good enough one.¡±


    ¡°Good enough, as in, not to wait for others?¡± Delano mused. ¡°I don¡¯t know, to be honest. Anything added to it will give Intelligence or Agility.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°So no Strength.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t foolish. He had dreams, yes. And a strength type class was at the top. But not too long ago he had been hit with a reality where he wouldn¡¯t be getting a Class. Then he¡¯d gotten a class. Now he was being picky.


    If he was being honest, the skills he had before were slowly being replaced by passive skills. Fist of Thunder was gone, so was Let Me In and You are not alone. Now Echo Draw was gone.


    His stubbornness was testing faith, and Bob Slater was just dancing around the corner with a cup of coffee.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t want to end up with a passive skilled Class. There was nothing wrong with them, but he wanted something he could toggle on and off.


    And he didn¡¯t want Rings of Saturn.


    ¡°I can see your brain trying to figure out how to win a chess game with only a pawn,¡± Delano said after a while. ¡°So how about we do this? Let¡¯s put a pause on this and make our pick when we get home, alright? Because between our boring African artifacts lecture and that creepy guy still staring at us because he thinks we don¡¯t know, I¡¯m just going to end up saying something and slipping up.¡±


    Melmarc turned. ¡°What guy?¡±


    He found the person, or the suspected person, easily.


    Joshua was seated on one of the chairs reading a book.


    ¡°He¡¯s just reading a book. What makes you think he¡¯s watching us?¡±


    ¡°Because if I wanted to watch people in a place where I couldn¡¯t use my phone, I¡¯d pretend to be reading a book.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Sounds like paranoia to me.¡±


    Eroms chuckled. ¡°He¡¯s been a member of a conspiracy theorist community since he was five. Paranoia is Delano at this point.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not just conspiracy theorists,¡± Delano muttered as they moved on. ¡°We do hang outs too.¡±


    Melmarc took another look at Joshua as they moved. The cover of the book was entirely brown with no writings or pictures of any kind. But he couldn¡¯t help a feeling he was getting.


    Is it upside down?

 TWENTY-SEVEN: Support Skill

    It was late when they got back to the mansion. To their surprise they were allowed to take their dinners in their rooms. In fact, they were asked to.


    There was a note on the massive dining table that large enough to house all of them. It specifically asked that they take their meals in their respective rooms and not step downstairs for the rest of the night.


    Considering the fact that the mansion somehow managed to serve them the same things in the same proportions, picking a plate was easy. It was the second message that was difficult.


    Mrs. Ella was the one who¡¯d picked up the card, and had read it with a great touch of worry and confusion. Being specifically asked not to come downstairs was a significant worry. Yes, they knew that they weren¡¯t expected to be roaming the mansion in the middle of the night.


    But having it pointed out implied one of two things. One, people had been caught wandering about last night. Two, something was happening tonight that was in their best interest not to be a part of.


    Melmarc had a strong feeling it was the former, because it was the less scary option. But there was also the possibility that it could be both.


    So Melmarc, Delano and Eroms sat in their rooms, empty dinner plates stacked on the only table in the room.


    ¡°Their hiding something.¡± Delano tossed an orange he¡¯d bought from a vendor outside the museum in the air and caught it. ¡°I can feel it in my bones.¡±


    ¡°Or they just have something that needs to be done and don¡¯t want us interfering with it.¡± Melmarc laid back on his bed. He¡¯d just finished eating and could feel the touch of sleep coming to him. ¡°Whatever it is, I¡¯m sleepy.¡±


    Eroms was already lying down on his stomach, head turned so that he could see them.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be sleepy,¡± Delano protested. ¡°We haven¡¯t gone through your skills yet.¡±


    Melmarc raised his head and cocked a brow. ¡°You sure we don¡¯t need someone to check the doors?¡±


    Delano shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯re good today. So you got Keen Sight.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Interesting.¡± Delano rubbed his jaw. ¡°I¡¯d say I¡¯m not surprised but we both know that¡¯s a lie. And you think playing chess was what gave you the skill?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Either that or having to deal with your shenanigans all the time.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have shenanigans, Marc. I have pizazz.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see any pizza,¡± Eroms groaned from his bed, and Delano looked at him.


    ¡°Pizazz not pizza, big guy.¡±


    Eroms sighed in disappointment. ¡°You don¡¯t have pizazz. You have shenanigans.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Delano looked between Melmarc and Eroms. ¡°Is it pick on Delano Saturday?¡±


    Delano rolled out of his bed and sat when everyone was lying down. ¡°Anyway, what are our options now?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. He was trying to act casual about it. ¡°Rings of Saturn, Narcolepsy, Keen Sight, and Knowledge Is Power.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t one of them a sleep defect?¡± Eroms asked.


    ¡°No. You¡¯re thinking of sleep apnea or maybe it''s also a sleep defect. But what do I know.¡± Delano picked one of his pillows and hugged it to himself. ¡°Can I just point out how the school¡¯s rule to not bring laptops is stupid?¡±


    Melmarc knew exactly why he wanted a laptop. ¡°Can¡¯t you just message your group with your phone?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t have the necessary proxy settings. Someone could ping my IP and know where I am.¡±


    ¡°Is it really a trusted group if you¡¯re afraid of that?¡±


    ¡°Trusted?¡± Delano snorted. ¡°We¡¯re a group that sometimes discuss conspiracy theories. 90% of them are right paranoid. I bet you we all have conspiracy theories on each other. And we work in the dark web. In summary, no. I¡¯d rather trust Eroms with my food.¡±


    ¡°A chronic neurological disorder that affects the brain''s ability to control sleep-wake cycles.¡± Eroms was looking at the screen on his phone.


    ¡°Did you just look up narcolepsy?¡± Delano asked.


    ¡°Narcolepsy.¡± Eroms put the phone away. ¡°It¡¯s a sleeping defect.¡±


    Delano sighed. ¡°Well, there you have it, Marc. So I guess it¡¯s out of the conversation. I¡¯d love to ask why your body wants to turn a sleep defect to a skill, but no. Any pick you¡¯re favoring?¡±


    ¡°Keen sight.¡±


    Delano shook his head. ¡°Unless you¡¯re going for an Intelligence build, or something generally long range, I don¡¯t see the use. Keen Sight helps the Gifted see everything that¡¯s in front of him at once. What¡¯s a swordsman going to do with that.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m not a swordsman.¡±


    ¡°It was an example, Marc. Keen sight won¡¯t work.¡±


    It was an odd feeling debating the skills. No one knew what skill options would come next. No one had heard of a Strength type Class having Keen Sight, but it wasn¡¯t like it was impossible. There were Gifted out there who didn¡¯t reveal all their skills to the world.


    Yes, they were required to reveal them when they registered with the government, but it wasn¡¯t like the government went publishing people¡¯s skills on some poster somewhere. And that¡¯s not considering the Gifted that weren¡¯t registered.


    Even the government was willing to often put out a reminder that an unregistered Gifted is a walking felon as far as it was concerned. It had also gone extra miles to motivated the Gifted to register.


    ¡°What if my next skill is a shitty skill?¡± Melmarc asked.


    The skill selection process was kind of disappointing. It left too many holes for doubt.


    ¡°And what if it¡¯s a World skill?¡± Delano shrugged. ¡°Or what if we aren¡¯t allowed downstairs because the maids are setting up bombs to kill us? Or what if Tracy has a crush on Eroms that¡¯s why she gave him food on the bus and was paying attention to us at the museum? What ifs don¡¯t make the world move forward, Marc. We just do what we have to and hope for the best. So what does Narcolepsy say?¡±


    ¡°I recover my health whenever I sleep.¡±


    ¡°Just your health?¡±


    ¡°I think so¡­ It says ¡®full health status,¡¯ so I¡¯m guessing just health.¡±


    Delano made a thoughtful sound. ¡°So nothing else.¡±


    ¡°These aren¡¯t really big on descriptions,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°For example, I¡¯ve got this one called Knowledge Is Power. All it says is that I¡¯ll release a burst of mana that comes back as information. It doesn¡¯t say how far it goes or what exactly information means in this case.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like an upgraded version of Keen Sight to me.¡± Delano scratched his head. ¡°But I¡¯m not feeling it. What else?¡±


    ¡°Just those three.¡±


    Eroms raised his head from his bed. ¡°Rings of Saturn is gone?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± Melmarc would rather he forgot it was even there. ¡°But I¡¯m not picking it so let¡¯s leave it there.¡±


    ¡°Kind of unhealthy to discard an entire skill for some personal grudge, don¡¯t you think?¡± Delano said. ¡°But it¡¯s your skills so your choice.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t told them why he was against it, and he really didn¡¯t want to. It wasn¡¯t about not wanting them to see him as weak in some way, he had been a child when it had happened so of course he had been weak. He didn¡¯t bring it up because he didn¡¯t see the need.


    And they didn¡¯t really care much for it. They simply took his word for it and that was all.


    No questions asked¡­


    Melmarc groaned internally.


    He¡¯d heard a saying once upon a time that you don¡¯t need to explain yourself to people because those who mind don¡¯t matter and those who matter don¡¯t mind. Technically, the people that mattered didn¡¯t need an explanation.


    But it didn¡¯t mean you shouldn¡¯t give them one sometimes.


    Now he felt bad about not telling them.


    ¡°It¡¯s the skill the person that broke into our house had,¡± he blurted out.


    There was a confused pause, then Delano¡¯s eyes softened in realization. ¡°Oh.¡±


    Melmarc did his best to look casual about it but realized talking about it was not as easy as he thought it would be.


    ¡°It¡¯s not exactly the skill, at least I don¡¯t think it is. But it sounds like it. When he¡­ when he fought my mum, he did this thing where he covered himself in a ring of light and shot her with it.¡±


    He frowned, hoping his voice didn¡¯t come out as broken as he was feeling. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to be walking around with a skill that almost killed my mom. I know it¡¯s childish, but that¡¯s the reason.¡±


    Eroms got up from his bed and came to stand behind Delano¡¯s.


    Delano gave him a confused and odd look, then ignored him. ¡°If it beat your mom then it must be a strong skill. But skills scale to ranks so it doesn¡¯t really matter. You don¡¯t have to pick it if you don¡¯t want to¡ªow!¡±


    Delano turned to Eroms. ¡°What was that for?¡±


    Eroms had smacked him across the back of the head. It wasn¡¯t anything painful in Melmarc¡¯s opinion, but it was enough to carry along a point.


    A point he was curious to know.


    ¡°Our friend just told us something personal and sensitive,¡± Eroms said. ¡°You first thank him for trusting you, then you analyze.¡±


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t thank him.¡±


    Eroms gave Delano a pointed look and he grumbled under his breath.


    Melmarc was beginning to think there just might be the makings of a bully inside Eroms. At least the makings of a Delano-bully.


    Delano turned and gave Melmarc a genuine smile.


    ¡°He¡¯s right, you know. We¡¯ve known you four years, and you¡¯ve never talked about it. Everybody in school just thinks you passed out and didn¡¯t see anything. And they think Ark saw too much and it traumatized him, that¡¯s why he¡¯s always so violent when it comes to you.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how much, but he knew Ark had seen a lot more than him. He¡¯d passed out at some point but their father said Ark had been with him till help had arrived.


    It was safe to say that Ark must¡¯ve been awake until the Player left.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Delano shifted uncomfortably on his bed. ¡°I know I don¡¯t say it a lot, but thanks. We really appreciate you telling us.¡±


    Behind him Eroms nodded with a small smile.


    Melmarc almost laughed. Trust Delano to casually say they were tight enough to go to the toilet together but be shy around a heartfelt thank you.


    Now that he had that off his chest, they could return to the topic.


    ¡°So do you think I should wait?¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± Delano asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve still got like a week before the Bob Slater thing might kick in.¡±


    Delano laughed at that. ¡°Or you might have a few days. You know it¡¯s not like a week is some hard limit. The girl holding the record for longest unchosen skill time has been holding it for months now, and she still has more than one skill offer.¡±


    ¡°So mine might not even last up to a week?¡±


    ¡°You said you¡¯re already losing your active skills, right?¡± Delano pursed his lips in thought. ¡°It could mean nothing¡­ and it could mean a lot of things. All I¡¯m saying is that you shouldn¡¯t use Bob Slater as a mark. Don¡¯t wait it out, normal people don¡¯t.¡±


    Melmarc understood what he was saying. He could just as easily wake up tomorrow and find a world skill waiting for him or wake up and find some gardening skill, too.


    Who said it had to be coffee.


    He needed to pick the best of what he was offered. And if he was to wait, it was best only if none of the skills were good.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Delano was saying. ¡°World skills don¡¯t only come in the beginning. There are people who get world skills on their support skill selection, and there are people that get it during a skill evolution or upgrade.¡±


    Melmarc remembered that. Skill evolutions and upgrades. If he was being honest, he¡¯d completely forgotten about them.


    The more you used a skill, the stronger it got. When it reached a certain level, it got powerful enough to evolve, which basically means it gets stronger or you get the option to upgrade it. But there was also another addition. An upgrade meant the chance of getting another skill.


    And another skill was a chance to specialize or diversify.


    For instance, an Elementalist that used water could upgrade it and find themselves being offered a fire skill. Such a massive difference was almost unheard of, but it did happen. There was a fire Elementalist who¡¯d evolved one of their fire skills, and one of the skills they were offered along with other fire specializations was a shadow skill, which they ended up picking.


    Melmarc took a deep breath. ¡°So Narcolepsy¡¯s out.¡±


    ¡°Rings of Saturn, too,¡± Delano said. ¡°Obviously a no brainer.¡±


    ¡°So Keen Sight and Knowledge Is Power.¡± Eroms looked thoughtful. ¡°Don¡¯t they do the same thing?¡±


    Delano brought out his phone and started typing on it. ¡°They are similar, but I like Knowledge Is Power¡¯s description better. It¡¯s not as fast as Keen Sight, but it sounds like it gives more.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t very sure about that. ¡°It just says it gives information.¡±


    ¡°It comes back as information,¡± Delano corrected. ¡°And it says here that it¡¯s not a very popular skill.¡±


    ¡°In your group?¡±


    ¡°God, no. On the internet. There¡¯s a guy in Kentucky with the Knowledge Is Power skill. Come to think of it, there are a lot of things on classes on the internet but not much on skills. Anyway, he¡¯s a company Delver, and an Agility type. He¡¯s got the Rogue class. The article says that insider information claims he has the highest survivability ratio in the company, and they always send him into the dangerous portals because his scouting skills have saved more lives than they can count.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like what he was hearing.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be in a support team that only goes in to save other Delvers when they¡¯ve been inside for too long.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s the catch.¡± Delano grinned. ¡°This guy is not in the rescue team. He¡¯s in the starting lineup.¡±


    ¡°Still don¡¯t want to be a Rogue.¡±


    ¡°Then make sure the second skill isn¡¯t Rogue-like,¡± Eroms said.


    They fell silent as they thought about it.


    Eroms was right. He would be able to guess what the next set of skills would be like just at a glance. All he¡¯d have to do was avoid anything Rogue-like.


    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be too hard,¡± he muttered to himself.


    ¡°So it¡¯s decided?¡± Delano looked antsy. ¡°We¡¯re taking Knowledge Is Power?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the best one we¡¯ve got right now.¡±


    Melmarc was still battling with the idea of waiting. But tomorrow could bring as bad as it could bring good. And now that he was very consciously aware of that, he couldn¡¯t say he was willing to take the risk.


    He wasn¡¯t one to gamble knowingly.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Delano clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. He paused. ¡°Wait, don¡¯t you think you should be doing this at home?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to.¡± And Melmarc really did. ¡°But what if I wake up tomorrow and Knowledge Is Power is gone and I¡¯m left with some other skill like Back Scratcher.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a skill like that,¡± Delano said easily.


    Eroms played devil¡¯s advocate almost immediately. ¡°You never know. Or he might get a skill that helps him reach hard to scratch places.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Or I might get a World skill.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s friends stopped talking and looked at him.


    Delano shrugged. ¡°Or you could. But I don¡¯t feel alright with you not doing this at home.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I get it.¡± Melmarc thought about the fact that he¡¯d been present for Ark¡¯s own and Ark wouldn¡¯t be present for his. ¡°You know what? Let me call them. My parents aren¡¯t home so there¡¯s nothing I can do about that. But Ark¡¯s home. Let me just call him and talk to him about it.¡±


    ¡°Is Ninra home?¡± Delano¡¯s voice was so casual about it, but he was anything but casual when it came to Ninra.


    Melmarc wanted to comment on it but let it slide. He¡¯ll accept that there¡¯s nothing there eventually.


    He brought out his phone and tapped in Ark¡¯s number. Sometimes typing it was faster than searching it since he had it memorized. Along with his mom and dad¡¯s. And uncle Dorthna¡¯s.


    And Ninra? He couldn¡¯t be very sure and found himself thinking about what his sister¡¯s phone number was as he dialed Ark.


    It was ringing.


    The problem with remembering Ninra''s number was that she changed it like the seasons changed. Why? Because she was good at almost everything except taking good care of her phone. There was that one time she¡¯d lost three phones in one year before college. As punishment their parents concluded that all her phones would be bought by her. They would play no part in it.


    Worse was her obsession towards not retrieving her lines. Like, it was the easiest part of getting a new phone and she refused it. She would rather get an entirely new line and go through the registration rather than give her previous information and have it imported into the new line.


    Ark speculated that there was a reason for it but she simply didn¡¯t want to tell them. They¡¯d danced around a few possibilities both good and bad before reaching a conclusion that it was impossible to tell.


    They¡¯d gone down the online stalker path, so far down that they¡¯d even asked her. She¡¯d laughed and made jokes about how every pretty girl had a stalker before telling them how wrong they were.


    Eventually, they¡¯d given up and simply accepted it as one of her quirks.


    There was a catch in the call as Ark picked.


    ¡°Are you about to get laid?¡± Ark asked with panicked excitement. ¡°Do you need tips? Tell me you¡¯ve got protection.¡±


    Melmarc laughed.


    ¡°No getting laid for me yet,¡± he said, getting an odd look from Delano and Eroms. ¡°But I¡¯m calling for something just as important.¡±


    ¡°Alright, then. Hit me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m about to select my skills.¡±


    There was a long pause on the other side of the call and Melmarc was beginning to worry he¡¯d somehow made Ark feel bad.


    Then Ark said, ¡°I thought you wanted to wait for a week.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head, then remembered his brother couldn¡¯t see him. ¡°I changed my mind. I¡¯ve already lost all the combat skills I got, who knows what I¡¯ll wake up to tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Even Rings of Saturn?¡± Ark asked in a stage whisper.


    ¡°Nope, that one¡¯s here to stay.¡± Melmarc pulled his skills back up to check, not that he thought it would be gone.


    It remained there, the last option, staring at him like he owed it something.


    He dismissed the skill. ¡°Still there.¡±


    Then he paused. How¡¯d I do that?


    Just to be sure, he thought about selecting a skill and the list pulled up again. He thought of not selecting a skill and it disappeared again.


    He was almost impressed with himself. It felt as easy as lifting his arm up and putting it back down.


    ¡°I see,¡± Ark was saying on the other end of the call.


    Delano inched closer to him. ¡°Put it on speaker. We¡¯re all part of this conversation.¡±


    Delano was right. Even Eroms was nodding in agreement.


    ¡°One moment, Ark.¡± Melmarc put the call on speaker and dropped the phone on his bed. Just to be sure, he checked the volume. It was on the highest. ¡°I put you on speaker, Ark.¡±


    ¡°Why? Are you doing something that requires your hands?¡± There was a shocked gasp. ¡°Are you using two hands to do what I think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    Melmarc rolled his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t be gross. Delano and Eroms are here, too. They want to be part of the conversation.¡±


    ¡°Oh. So what do we have?¡±


    ¡°Four skills,¡± Delano said. ¡°But we¡¯ve narrowed it down to Knowledge Is Power and Keen Sight.¡±


    There was a thoughtful pause before Ark said, ¡°Sounds like support skills. You know, the kind you use for the team and not yourself.¡±


    ¡°They are his main skills.¡± Delano looked at his phone and scrolled through it. ¡°From what I can get, it seems his support skills might not be support based. Most Gifted often get a support skill that works with the main skill they get.¡±


    ¡°So if his main skill feels like a support skill, then his support skill will feel like a main skill.¡±


    ¡°Or at least make him able to use his main skill so it feels like a main skill,¡± Eroms offered.


    ¡°Wow, is that Eroms?¡± Ark sounded surprised. ¡°Bro, your voice got deep.¡±


    Eroms looked at Melmarc in confusion, then back at the phone. ¡°Thanks?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what was going on, and he couldn¡¯t really say he¡¯d noticed how deep Eroms¡¯ voice had gotten. But maybe it was because they were always together. Maybe it had deepened over time and he just hadn¡¯t noticed.


    ¡°Alright.¡± There was a shuffling sound in the background as Ark moved about. ¡°Just get all your skills and I¡¯ll go find uncle Dorthna. There might be another useful skill in there.¡±


    Maybe.


    They didn¡¯t have to wait long. In less than two minutes Ark was already talking again.


    ¡°Alright, Mel. I¡¯m with uncle, D. What skill options did you get?¡±


    Melmarc was suddenly anxious. There was suddenly some level of pressure to this. What did he do if their uncle didn¡¯t like Knowledge Is Power? What if uncle Dorthna suggested he go for Narcolepsy or even Rings of Saturn?


    He won¡¯t, right? He already told me I don¡¯t have to pick Rings of Saturn.


    But that was when I had other combat skills to pick from.


    ¡°Mel?¡±


    It was his uncle¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Yes, uncle D?¡±


    ¡°Good evening, uncle D,¡± Delano and Eroms greeted at the same time.


    They¡¯d seen him a few times and exchanged a few words. They weren¡¯t as close to uncle Dorthna as they were with each other''s families but they liked him from the little time they¡¯d spent with each other.


    Though they hadn¡¯t seen each other in a while.


    ¡°Are those Eroms and Delano?¡± Uncle Dorthan didn¡¯t seem surprised. ¡°I like that. It¡¯s good to have people you can trust around you when you¡¯re selecting your skills. I take it that¡¯s what you¡¯re about to do¡­ right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Right. So what are you waiting for. Ark just went to get Ninra since we think she¡¯d like to be present for it, so just give us a few minutes.¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t exactly how Melmarc had thought the conversation was going to go, but this was good, too. He could feel a bit of the anxiety leaving. Then he could feel another kind of worry setting in.


    What if he was making the wrong choice? What if waiting was the better option? He could wake up tomorrow with something better.


    Uncle Dorthna cleared his throat on the other end of the call. ¡°Do you know that your silence gets very loud when you¡¯re thinking thoughts that second guess yourself?¡±


    Melmarc was startled. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I can literally hear you thinking you might not be making the right choice. So, just to fulfill my duty as uncle of the year, I¡¯m going to ask. What skill have you settled on?¡±


    Melmarc hesitated. ¡°Knowledge Is Power.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s the description?¡±


    Melmarc thought about his skills selection and pulled them up. ¡°The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back as information.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what it says? It comes back as information.¡±


    ¡°Like a scouting skill,¡± Delano interjected. ¡°But he doesn¡¯t want the Rogue class so we¡¯re making sure he doesn¡¯t pick a second skill that leads to Rogue class.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°And how are you making sure of that?¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got my phone here and I¡¯m looking through every known Rogue skill.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s nice of you Delano. Are you looking through the Gifted forums?¡±


    ¡°The dark web, too.¡±


    There was a pause.


    Then on the phone Dorthna muttered to himself, ¡°Kid¡¯s these days can¡¯t be trusted with the internet.¡± Then he added to them: ¡°I guess the only better place than the dark web is the government data base.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡±


    ¡°If you tell me you have access to the government database on your phone right now I¡¯m sending people to arrest you.¡±


    Delano chuckled nervously. ¡°I actually don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Melmarc looked at Delano. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say someone can track your IP address if you checked your group on your phone.¡±


    Delano shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not that big a deal. You only get to be Gifted once. You can always get me another phone when we get back, if you¡¯re feeling so gracious.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know how to feel about that. Not the new phone part, the part where Delano was willing to take a risk he normally wouldn¡¯t take for him.


    ¡°Has he chosen yet!?¡± Ark sounded like he was coming from far away. ¡°Tell me he hasn¡¯t chosen. I brought Ninra.¡±


    Delano¡¯s face reddened and he cleared his throat. ¡°Hi, Ninra.¡±


    Melmarc almost laughed.


    ¡°Hey, big head,¡± Ninra called. ¡°Took you long enough to make up your mind. And why is this call on speaker? Ark, change it to video call. Why the hell are we listening when we can also be seeing?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not the boss of me. I¡¯ll burn your wig.¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±


    ¡°Try me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll throw Spitfire out of the house.¡±


    Melmarc chuckled as he picked up his phone and switched to video call.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Delano whispered harshly.


    Melmarc was confused. ¡°Switching to video call.¡±


    Delano looked around nervous. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if your sister and I are ready for this step in our relationship. Tell her your camera¡¯s busted.¡±


    Eroms tossed a blue shirt and it smacked into Delano¡¯s face. ¡°Or you can put that on. You look finer in blue.¡±


    ¡°Says who?¡± Delano was already taking off the white shirt he¡¯d worn to the museum and putting on the blue.


    ¡°Says Tracy.¡±


    The video call started, and Melmarc placed it against the headrest of his bed so that it captured all of them in the room as they gathered on his bed.


    Ninra, Ark, and their uncle Dorthna filled the screen a moment later.


    ¡°I got this for you, uncle D,¡± Ninra was saying as she handed their uncle an empty coke bottle.


    Dorthna took it graciously and placed it somewhere out of view.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± he said. ¡°The whole gang¡¯s here. Let¡¯s get this show on the road.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He pulled up his skill list with a thought.


    [Narcolepsy]


    The Gifted regains a full health status when they fall asleep.


    [Knowledge Is Power]


    The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back to them as information


    [Keen Sight]


    The Gifted notices everything within their eyesight.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.


    Now that he thought about it, he actually had a question about the skills.


    ¡°The skill selections and the words we see are the body¡¯s interpretation of things, right?¡± he asked. ¡°Like these are the things my body knows I can do.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Dorthna answered.


    Everyone seemed to be paying attention to the question.


    ¡°So why is it that the details of the skills are so few? Is my body trying to hide things from me?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    Ark leaned in too close to the video, almost taking up the whole video space, and Dorthna flicked him on the head with his finger.


    When Ark moved, he continued. ¡°It¡¯s the best your body has so far. It¡¯s like when someone knows they can jump, but they don¡¯t know exactly how high. Or you know you can lift fifty pounds, but you don¡¯t know if you can lift a hundred pounds because you¡¯ve never done it before.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    That made sense. So his body knew it could release a burst of mana that could come back to him as information, but not how far it could go or how much and what specifically was categorized as information.


    It was nice to know his body wasn¡¯t playing tricks on him.


    It hadn¡¯t been a determining question or anything like that, just a curiosity. With that sorted out, he selected the skill.


    [Would you like to choose Knowledge Is Power? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    ¡°Yes.¡± Melmarc really hoped he wouldn¡¯t be making the wrong decision.


    He wasn¡¯t going to get something as cool as breathing fire, but he really hoped he wouldn¡¯t end up with a class no one paid attention to.


    There was a brief pause, then the skill description came into display.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re working with.¡±


    Delano said something but Melmarc didn¡¯t hear it, he was too busy looking at the extra information on his skill.


    What he did know was that Ninra smiled at whatever he¡¯d said.


    Knowledge Is Power (Mastery 0.00%)


    *While skill is in effect you can neither inflict damage nor be damaged.*


    Conclusion of skill will end inability to deal damage or be damaged.


    Conclusion of skill grants conditional mastery of all information received for eight minutes.


    All threats, allies, and neutrals detected are highlighted for eight minutes.


    Skill perks:


    Agility +2 Balance +1 Mental +3 Mana +1


    ¡­


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of supporting skills have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    Melmarc read the details in front of him two more times.


    ¡°What did we get?¡± Ark asked, excited. ¡°Do you suddenly know everything?¡±


    Around Melmarc, Eroms and Delano waited in anticipation.


    ¡°You good?¡± Delano asked. ¡°You¡¯re not going to be stuck with some rogue class as a skill condition, right?¡±


    Eroms shook his head. ¡°Skills don¡¯t work that way, D.¡±


    ¡°I know that, but what do you expect me to think when he¡¯s just staring at nothing like that?¡±


    ¡°Uh, it¡¯s not bad,¡± Melmarc said finally.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°All skills are good and useful in their own ways. Even a gardening skill can be useful if applied properly.¡±


    Eroms leaned close to Melmarc.


    ¡°Your uncle sounds like he knows a lot about skills,¡± he whispered.


    Melmarc flinched from the warm breath against his ear. ¡°Yeah, he used to be a Delver.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Eroms paused, as if thinking. ¡°I mean he talks as if he knows a lot about them.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what that meant, but he wasn¡¯t going to argue it. So he shrugged.


    ¡°Read what you¡¯ve got to us,¡± Dorthna said.


    Melmarc returned his attention to the skill and read the details for them.


    ¡°Plus three to mental,¡± Delano said. ¡°So you¡¯re, like, really smart now?¡±


    ¡°Quick!¡± Ninra interrupted quickly. ¡°What¡¯s the square root of three thousand and forty-one?¡±


    Dorthna turned and pinched her cheek. ¡°Plus three to mental, not plus three to super-computer.¡±


    Ninra rubbed her cheek, while Melmarc tried to pretend he hadn¡¯t actually tried to solve the equation in a split second.


    Ark was looking at him funny.


    Don¡¯t you dare, he thought as a small smile stretched Ark¡¯s lips.


    ¡°You tried to solve it.¡± Ark burst into laughter. ¡°You really thought you¡¯d suddenly become computer smart.¡±


    ¡°I was just checking,¡± Melmarc grumbled. ¡°Had to be sure.¡±


    Delano was quick to add his own opinion. ¡°Well it didn¡¯t say anything about intelligence, so maybe we¡¯re on the path to Agility?¡±


    As long as it wasn¡¯t the Rogue class or anything scouting, he would be fine. At this pace Melmarc had all but accepted he¡¯d end up in a supporting role, but he didn¡¯t want anything too supporting. If he did end up in something like that, then he¡¯d have to talk to his parents.


    Self-defense classes wouldn¡¯t cut it anymore. He¡¯d have to go for something more offensive. He¡¯d heard that Delver schools taught classes like that, combat classes that were not about self-defense.


    Some mentors did the same during the one-month training program that Gifted needed to go through before resuming at the Delver school of their choice. That was for those that wanted to be Delvers and not just Gifted.


    ¡°Mental is actually a powerful stat.¡± Dorthna¡¯s voice brought Melmarc back. ¡°There are skills out there that actually affect a person¡¯s mind, and those with mental are more resistant to it than others.¡±


    ¡°So he¡¯s already preparing himself against those kinds of people.¡± Eroms looked as if he was suddenly relieved.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°But no. What¡¯s happening is that he¡¯s preparing himself for the skill. It¡¯s how skills work. You gain the ability to do something, then your stats adjust so you can better handle the skill.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense.¡± Delano had moved from them get something from the cabinet. ¡°He¡¯ll need a strong mind to understand all the information he¡¯ll get if he¡¯s to get mastery over them.¡±


    He came back and plopped himself down on Melmarc¡¯s bed. He was out of the view of the camera so he wasn¡¯t showing on the video call.


    He held a ceramic cup in his hand. ¡°I got this from downstairs.¡±


    ¡°Are we pilfering now?¡± Melmarc asked in a whisper.


    ¡°Borrowing. Had a feeling we¡¯d end up picking a skill tonight.¡±


    ¡°And what does a cup have to do with that?¡±


    Delano shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll see. How about you try using the skill. Let¡¯s see how it works.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m strongly against that idea,¡± Dorthna interrupted them.


    Delano suddenly looked sheepish even though his face wasn¡¯t showing on the call.


    Eroms raised his hand like he was in class. ¡°I agree.¡±


    Melmarc looked between the both of them. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re only half a Gifted right now,¡± Dorthna explained. ¡°You get two skills because one is designed to support the other, in a way. At least that¡¯s how it goes normally. So let¡¯s assume someone has the ability to set themselves on fire, their second skill will come with something that will also play the part of fire resistance.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it. ¡°Oh.¡±


    So that was why support skills were important. Imagine setting yourself on fire before getting your support skill.


    That would be unintentional suicide.


    He wondered what would happen if he used Knowledge Is Power without a support skill.


    Something told him there¡¯d be backlash from the returning information. At least that was what it sounded like. He couldn¡¯t see anywhere else that something could go wrong. Maybe the information would be too much for my mind to process and I¡¯ll turn into a vegetable?


    ¡°So what options do we have for the next one?¡± Ninra asked. She looked happy but not excited.


    It was an odd mix.


    She did say the effect kind of wears off after too many family members becoming gifted, Melmarc remembered.


    He pulled up the new notification.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of supporting skills has been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    He read it once more before answering. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Many Delvers didn¡¯t walk around talking to the air so he was hoping there would be a way to interact with the notifications without looking like a madman talking to himself.


    Maybe thinking it also works.


    After all, he¡¯d been pulling it up and down with his thoughts so far.


    A new notification popped up.


    Please choose a skill you feel will best support your use of Knowledge Is Power.


    [Puppeteer]


    You have complete mastery over self for eight minutes upon conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power.


    [Life Steal]


    Mana burst from skill Knowledge Is Power contains a necrotizing effect that comes back with a portion of stolen life-force.


    [Chaos Counter]


    You counter all skill effects and status debuffs applied on you within three minutes of skill Knowledge Is Power conclusion with a seven seconds delay.


    [Bless Your Kindness]


    Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +0.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.


    [Would you like to select a skill now?]


    [Yes/No].


    Melmarc read his options and almost laughed.


    The last option was just begging to be taken. An increase to all stats, and status buff based on how many people were around him.


    Compared to the others, he thought it was basically a steal.


    He had the least idea of what [Puppeteer] was supposed to do. What exactly was mastery over self? Was it a mental effect or a physical one? Would he suddenly be able to feel his own kidney or suddenly be able to control every muscle in his body?


    He understood [Chaos Counter] but had questions about the seven seconds delay. Did it mean there were seven seconds before the counter took effect?


    [Life Steal] was basically a no. It said nothing about being discriminate. While he didn¡¯t think the necrotizing effect would affect allies as well, he just couldn¡¯t picture himself stealing life force from his friends.


    And what happened if the people around him weren¡¯t Gifted?


    ¡°Are you just going to leave us hanging?¡± Ninra asked. ¡°I swear it¡¯s like people get Gifted and just can¡¯t stop staring at their notifications.¡±


    ¡°Just the way you couldn¡¯t stop staring at your poster of White Flair when you were in high-school?¡± Ark grinned.


    ¡°I was just a teenager, and he had eight pack abs.¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s gross.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± Eroms agreed.


    Dorthna was smiling. ¡°So what did we get?¡±


    Melmarc read it to them.


    ¡°Is it just me or am I getting dark mage vibes from Life Steal,¡± Delano said. ¡°Necrotizing effect. Isn¡¯t that like when your body starts rotting when you¡¯re alive?¡±


    Eroms nodded. ¡°But it gives life boost, so it could probably make him tanky.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Melmarc scratched the back of his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t say anything about distinguishing between allies and enemies. I don¡¯t want to end up being a one-man team.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Ark said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to be in a team with someone that¡¯s sucking my life out of me. What of Puppeteer. That one sounds Agility based.¡±


    ¡°Too vague,¡± Ninra countered. ¡°Mastery of self. What¡¯s that even supposed to mean? Is he going to suddenly become very zen or start using 100% of his brain power? I say Chaos Counter. At least it works to keep him alive. And if enemies can feel the mana burst, they¡¯ll be in a hurry to attack him. It¡¯ll keep him alive.¡±


    ¡°And the seven seconds delay it¡¯s talking about?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°We can always try out the skill and see what it means.¡±


    Melmarc noticed uncle Dorthna was quiet. Eroms was quiet, too. But Eroms was always quiet.


    He checked on his uncle on the phone and found that he didn¡¯t even look like he was thinking. He was just waiting.


    Each person went back and forth with it, giving their opinions. Ninra also liked Bless Your Kindness but didn¡¯t like how vague the idea of what kind of buff was given was.


    ¡°What happens if he gets a buff that allows him eat more?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think buffs work that way,¡± Ark opposed.


    ¡°Some do, actually.¡± Dorthna looked up and away in thought. ¡°I knew a Delver who had a buff called Consume. What it did was, it made you really hungry, and the more you ate, the more mana you got. It was a really interesting skill. Amazing for intelligence based Classes so he always had a team that wanted him.¡±


    Ark looked surprised by that. Eroms, too.


    Dorthna didn¡¯t pay their expressions much attention. ¡°So what¡¯s it going to be, Mel?¡±


    ¡°Puppeteer¡¯s too vague.¡± Delano dropped the cup beside the bed and came back into view. ¡°I say we go with Bless Your Kindness.¡±


    Ninra disagreed. ¡°I say Chaos Counter.¡±


    ¡°Chaos Counter feels like it¡¯s trying to help him get away. Sounds like a Rogue matchup.¡± Delano shook his head. ¡°Bless Your Kindness.¡±


    ¡°Life Steal would be good if not for the whole lack of discrimination thing,¡± Eroms muttered.


    The debate was brief, and one thing that was certain was that Life Steal was discarded. So it boiled down to three options.


    ¡°I want Bless Your Kindness,¡± Melmarc said after a while. ¡°It gives bonus effects to all my stats¡ª¡±


    ¡°For only eight minutes,¡± Ninra pointed out.


    ¡°A lot can happen in a fight in eight minutes. And it also gives a status buff, and it doesn¡¯t have a time limit for that one.¡±


    ¡°A lot can happen in a second,¡± Dorthna corrected. ¡°You¡¯ll need all the advantages you can get.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m taking Bless Your Kindness.¡±


    Delano looked at him. ¡°You sure?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He was also curious about what kind of status buffs it could give him. It won¡¯t be anything bad, he hoped. Those would be debuffs, and it said buffs.


    He brought up the skill list again and chose.


    [Would you like to choose Bless Your Kindness? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    A moment of discomfort filled Melmarc as he uttered the word. A small pain pressed down on his stomach as if Eroms had suddenly sat on him.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Ark asked from the phone, panic on his face.


    Melmarc held back his discomfort, tried to keep it from his face. A part of him had an idea of what was happening, and he really didn¡¯t like it. He really didn¡¯t want another contaminated skill taking an offered skill.


    Please not Bless Your Kindness.

 TWENTY-EIGHT: Class

    When the pain subsided, it left Melmarc breathing heavily.


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    The panic in Delano¡¯s voice was raw. Melmarc needed to catch his breath before he answered his friend.


    Fortunately for him, Ark did the answering for him.


    ¡°He just got a contaminated skill.¡±


    There was a pause as everyone waited for Melmarc to catch his breath.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that right?¡± Ark asked.


    Melmarc nodded. He hadn¡¯t seen it yet, but he just knew that was the case. Trust life to keep throwing me curve balls.


    Somewhere in his pain, the notification had disappeared. He pulled it back up and braced himself for the outcome.


    [Anomaly detected]


    [Due to detected and resolved anomaly, re-calculations have been made]


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of supporting skills has been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No].


    Melmarc thought he could feel his hands trembling.


    ¡°Ye¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡±


    Everyone stopped and turned to Delano.


    ¡°What?¡± Erom¡¯s asked.


    ¡°You guys didn¡¯t hear that?¡±


    Everyone waited in the silence, even those on the other end of the phone. A short while past, probably thirty seconds, and nothing happened.


    ¡°Hear what?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°You know when you live upstairs and person downstairs keeps trying to get your attention by hitting their ceiling?¡± Delano asked. ¡°That small but annoying thud you keep getting? That.¡±


    They gave it a little more time and nothing happened.


    ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything.¡± Eroms looked at the door. ¡°Do you think someone was knocking?¡±


    Delano shook his head. ¡°It came from below us.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it. ¡°Maybe they¡¯re working on something downstairs.¡±


    ¡°And we only get the one sound? I doubt it.¡±


    Delano frowned as his mind went through the motions. If there was a possibility that a secret was being kept, he was always more curious than the next person.


    Surprisingly, he let it go.


    ¡°Never mind, let¡¯s finish up with what we¡¯re doing. I¡¯m really curious about this contaminated skill. Even though I know we won¡¯t choose it.¡±


    Melmarc pulled it up again even as his sister asked, ¡°Why won¡¯t we choose it?¡±


    ¡°Because it probably belongs to the guy that broke into the house when we were small,¡± Ark answered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why will his body be offering him skills that belong to a guy from¡­ Oh¡­ I get it. It has something to do with the scar, right?¡±


    Ark nodded.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s a no go then.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but appreciate how easily his sister had swept the skill away. She didn¡¯t even try to consider the healthy possibility of giving it a chance.


    He wasn¡¯t sure if a therapist would support it, but he loved her all the more for it.


    A shame I won¡¯t tell her.


    He was a brother, his job was to show love to his sister by annoying her and walking into her room and using her things and making a mess while she was inside.


    Ark did that more than he did, but he sometimes found the time to indulge in it. It was a sibling custom, after all.


    He looked at his notification, read it to himself again, and answered.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Please choose a skill you feel will best support your use of Knowledge Is Power.


    [Puppeteer]


    You have complete mastery over self for eight minutes upon conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power.


    [Secrecy]


    The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.


    [Chaos Counter]


    You counter all skill effects and status debuffs applied on you within three minutes of skill Knowledge Is Power conclusion with a seven seconds delay.


    [Bless Your Kindness]


    Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +0.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.


    [Would you like to select a skill now?]


    [Yes/No].


    The new skill read like a main skill.


    It didn¡¯t even have the decency of trying to conform to something that suited Knowledge Is Power. He hadn¡¯t been going to choose it before, but now he definitely wasn¡¯t going to choose it.


    ¡°Do we want to know what it says?¡± Ark asked.


    Ninra looked at him like he¡¯d just asked a stupid question. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t we want to?¡±


    Ark sighed. ¡°Because we might listen to the skill and realize that it¡¯s actually an amazing skill that¡¯s better than all the other options. Then we¡¯ll be forced to share in the pained grief of having to give up a really good skill just because we don¡¯t like who it came from.¡±


    Everyone paused.


    ¡°That was¡­¡± Dorthna cleared his throat awkwardly. ¡°That was surprisingly very insightful.¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m an insightful person.¡±


    Ninra rolled her eyes. ¡°Well you definitely could¡¯ve fooled me.¡±


    ¡°Truthfully, it¡¯s not that bad,¡± Melmarc said.


    Then he read it out loud.


    Delano was the first to comment.


    ¡°Lame. What are you even going to use that kind of skill for? Crowd control?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re fighting another Gifted in public it can prevent panic,¡± Eroms said.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Delano couldn¡¯t care much for it. ¡°Since we¡¯ve still got the other skill, I say we select it and see what that baby does.¡±


    Melmarc agreed.


    [Would you like to choose Bless Your Kindness? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    [You have selected skill Bless Your Kindness. This has been permanently added to your skill list.]


    Melmarc sat there, waiting.


    Nothing happened.


    The notification remained in place, staring at him like they owed each other something.


    What happened now? Did he have to give a command of some kind? Was he supposed to do something complicated like call up his status?


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°It¡¯s taking a while.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just there.¡± Melmarc swiped at it but nothing happened. ¡°It¡¯s not even giving me a loading screen or anything?¡±


    Had his interface crashed? Did they even crash? It wasn¡¯t like it was some kind of AI programming.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you get a loading screen,¡± Delano pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯s a video game or anything. Maybe it¡¯s just taking a long time deciding on what your class is going to be.¡±


    Eroms got up from the bed and made his way to the cabinet. ¡°You had the interruption because of the contaminated skill. Maybe that¡¯s why it¡¯s taking time.¡±


    He pulled out a bag of chips, opened it, then started eating.


    ¡°Dude,¡± Delano groaned. ¡°You just ate.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m hungry again.¡±


    Eroms ate the chips four at a time. Melmarc would¡¯ve probably said something if he wasn¡¯t so concerned about his frozen notification.


    ¡°What are the chances it¡¯s taking so long because he¡¯s going to get a powerful Class?¡± Ark said. ¡°Or maybe a powerful rank.¡±


    Delano thought about it, then shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s no noticed relationship between time and class or rank strength.¡±


    He paused, thinking about it some more. ¡°Although there¡¯s a rumor going through the community that unranked Classes don¡¯t get to choose their classes whenever they like. Some people say the skills even have an active timer.¡±


    Ark and Melmarc exchanged a look, but it was Ninra that spoke.


    ¡°And what community is that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s just some stupid group.¡± Delano scratched the back of his neck and looked away. ¡°It¡¯s really not important.¡±


    And he claims to be a proud member, Melmarc thought absently.


    He would¡¯ve probably taken the chance to make fun of his friend if he wasn¡¯t growing so worried.


    [Classification is taking longer than estimated. Kindly exercise patience.]


    Melmarc read it out before he could stop himself, and Delano tumbled off the bed laughing.


    ¡°Marc broke himself,¡± he laughed, holding onto his stomach on the ground.


    On the other end of the video call Dorthna rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s odd. I¡¯ve never heard of something like this.¡±


    ¡°Must be a really powerful Class.¡± Ninra was beginning to sound excited. ¡°The first SS-rank in the family. I¡¯m going to use you to brag so hard when I get back to school.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember being born for bragging rights.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You¡¯re my little brother and I¡¯m free to use your name however I please.¡±


    That insinuated so many things that Melmarc wasn¡¯t ready to touch.


    [Anomaly Detected].


    Melmarc started at the sudden appearance.


    [Alien mana detected].


    [World Debuff has been applied].


    [You are under a World Debuff: Intruder].


    Intruder


    An Intruder is a sentient life form existing in a world they do not belong.


    -0.5 to all stats.


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°You have got to be kidding me?¡±


    This couldn¡¯t be happening to him. How was he going to go around with a constant negative debuff? And how was he going to be useful if all his stats were constantly less than they were supposed to be.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Dorthna asked. For the first time since the call started, he sounded worried.


    ¡°It gave me a freaking¡ª¡±


    A new set of notifications silenced him.


    [Anomaly detected]


    [Assimilated alien mana detected]


    [World buff has been applied].


    [You are under the World buff: August guest].


    August Guest


    A sentient life form not of this world but from this world has been detected.


    +0.5 to all stats.


    Melmarc stared at it, confused. So they cancel out?


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Uncle D?¡±


    ¡°What do you need?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t entirely sure how to ask it without causing any panic so he just asked it. ¡°Have you ever heard of something called a world debuff?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s very rare, but it happens. There are portals you enter that give world buffs while some give world debuffs. It all depends on what you¡¯re doing in the portal. Why?¡±


    ¡°I think I just got one.¡±


    Melmarc scratched his jaw nervously while every looked at him.


    ¡°Well, I got a world debuff,¡± he said. ¡°Then I got a world buff. They are both similar so they just sort of cancelled each other out.¡±


    Dorthna opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked like he was contemplating his next words.


    Whatever he was about to say, Eroms beat him to it. ¡°What¡¯s the World Debuff?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Dorthna¡¯s decision cut Melmarc off before he could answer. ¡°Let¡¯s leave the Debuff alone. Tell us what the buff is.¡±


    His uncle¡¯s tone worried him. But if his uncle had a possible idea of what it was, Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised his uncle didn¡¯t want him saying it in public.


    ¡°Well, I got something called an August Guest buff.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°That¡¯s a good buff.¡±


    But it¡¯s useless since the Intruder debuff is there.


    As if it had been patiently waiting for him to finish his conversation, another notification popped up.


    [Classification complete.]


    [Would you like to view your information]


    [Yes/No].


    ¡°I think my class is ready,¡± Melmarc informed them, his voice a bit too high.


    He was excited and terrified at the same time. At this point it was anyone¡¯s guess. With everything that had happened in the time he¡¯d taken to select his skills, he couldn¡¯t even begin to guess what it could possibly.


    Delano was twitchy, Ark¡¯s eyes widened as if he could somehow see the skill. Melmarc wondered if a Gifted could see another Gifted¡¯s notifications through a video call or on camera. He chucked it aside as a question he would have to ask Dorthna, or maybe something he would test out with Ark later.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he accepted and stared as the notification changed.


    This was going to be the beginning of the rest of his life.


    The notification displayed his information in front of him and his face twisted in confusion. It wasn¡¯t a terrible Class, neither was it a very common one. And Delvers that possessed the class were a controversial lot when it came to success.


    Truthfully, he didn¡¯t know how to feel about it.


    ¡°What did you get, Mel?¡± Ark asked overexcited. ¡°Was it Basher?¡±


    Delano looked at him, appalled. ¡°Why would you want Basher?¡±


    ¡°Basher¡¯s an awesome class.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he would¡¯ve preferred Basher to the Class he¡¯d been given. Right now he wasn¡¯t sure of anything except for two things.


    He didn¡¯t know what to do with his new class, and it was vastly odd that Delano had heard something suspicious probably happening downstairs and had dismissed his curiosity too easily. The very same ''downstairs'' they had been asked to stay away from for the night. Delano lived to unravel the suspicious. So why?


    The latter was something to be handled eventually. For now, Melmarc stared at his class and his rank.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    This might be a problem.


    ¡­¡­


    Joshua stood under the star filled sky. It was an odd thing to have it so bright even without the moon present.


    He¡¯d stood where he was more than once, on this side of an empty road in the middle of a dark or bright night. Sometimes the luminance was just somewhere in the middle.


    But every time the massive compound on the other side of the road was always so bright. Always so rich. It was vast with lawns and gardens and sculpted hedges and plants. It even had its own street lamps they kept it warm and yellow.


    The owner had hired enough Gifted to start a small army, but none of them were above D-rank. He took them and used them and paid them.


    There were at least three elementals and four weavers working in the mansion. Together, even at D-rank, they affected the atmosphere of just the compound. In winter, like it currently was, they kept the temperature just cold enough to be comfortable but warm enough to not need hand gloves or speak with puffs of steam coming out of your mouth.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done quite well for yourself, Vlad.¡±


    He removed his hands from his pocket and checked the canteens strapped to his belt. There were four in total and he hoped they would be enough for what he wanted to do.


    Tonight was supposed to be the last night. Everything might not have started in this mansion, but he was determined to have it all end there.


    He strolled across the empty road and onto the mansion¡¯s gate.


    He¡¯d calculated everything, spent the last month studying the compound. He knew Vlad had guests, and everytime he had guests, the security was not as deadly as when he didn¡¯t. Joshua couldn¡¯t blame him.


    You wouldn¡¯t want a bunch of high school kids getting electrocuted to death because of some stupid dare like leaving the compound to do something they shouldn¡¯t.


    When he got to the gate, he held on to one of its balusters. He tested its grip since it would need to hold if he was to vault over it in one leap.


    Instead of getting a sturdy grip, the gate opened inwards. There was no groaning of metals or rusted hinges. It was smooth and soundless.


    Joshua paused. Lax security?


    He shook his head, banishing the thought. Vlad¡¯s security was never this lax. Even if any of the security men currently seated in some fancy room watching the CCTV cameras had made a mistake, Anais would¡¯ve corrected it.


    She was ever the thorough one.


    Joshua dropped his hand from the balustrade, contemplating.


    So he¡¯s expecting me, he concluded. That¡¯s interesting. He wouldn¡¯t know I¡¯d be coming unless he was divining again. And divination requires a lot of blood sacrifice.


    He almost laughed at his own thoughts. Vlad had spent years condemning him for how he abused his abilities over blood, but here the man was, consuming just as much blood as he did.


    Hypocrite.


    But he was not angry or annoyed. If Joshua was to pick an emotion, it would be disappointment. Despite everything they¡¯d been through, Vlad was supposed to be the good one. The hero of justice.


    It didn¡¯t matter. If Vlad was expecting him, then he had nothing to worry about. There would be no traps designed to clamp him down or burn him alive or flay him.


    It was just not his cousin¡¯s style.


    So he took a simple stroll down the compound. He followed its winding road, took in the sights of the water fountain that doubled as a roundabout, and skipped his way up the front stairs.


    Would he have left this open, too? He thought, standing before the front door.


    It was all the questions he had bottled up in one. If the answer was yes, it would answer a whole lot of questions on how much blood Vlad had consumed.


    It would also answer the question of what the outcome of this meeting would be. Because to be able divine so accurately, to the point that he was sure enough to leave both his front gate and his front door open, was beyond reason.


    Joshua raised his hand. He stopped himself before he could knock.


    No. Where¡¯s the fun in that?


    He really, really wanted to know just how much blood his brother had consumed. So he turned the handle. It let out the common clicking sound. And he pushed.


    The door opened inward.


    Joshua chuckled. He couldn¡¯t help himself.


    Oh, sweet cousin. How far down the rabbit¡¯s hole did your hunt for me lead you?


    He strolled into the mansion and closed the door behind him with his foot.


    Just how much blood have you been drinking, Vlad?


    ¡­¡­..


    Anais stood beside Vlad. Her face was etched in worry.


    Vlad was standing in a pool of blood. The room reeked with its stench. He looked weak, hollow. Even at A-rank she doubted he could put up much of a fight against anyone.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have to do this,¡± she told him for the countless time. ¡°Even if he¡¯s coming, we don¡¯t have to let him in.¡±


    Vlad shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s no ifs, my child.¡±


    His voice was old and wary, croaked. He looked sixty, and everyone thought he was. But Anais knew better. He was forty, at most. But his skills were killing him the way he used them. They were aging him. They were not designed to be used as ethically as he used them.


    ¡°The blood has spoken.¡± Vlad walked over to his desk with sluggish steps and picked up a green hand towel. He wiped his hands of fresh blood. ¡°The blood never lies.¡±


    He dropped the bloodied towel on the table then walked off towards the door.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go meet our guest,¡± he said. ¡°You can leave the study as it is. It won¡¯t matter.¡±


    Anais frowned as Vlad walked past her.


    She didn¡¯t know who exactly this person was, only that Vlad had been looking for him for the past few years. It was part of the things that had brought them to America. While other things had chased them from Romania, the council included.


    ¡°Where is Tepes?¡± Vlad asked in his weak voice.


    They were walking down the hallway. From here they would get to the stairs and walk down two flights before getting to the main entrance.


    Anais didn¡¯t like any of this. ¡°He¡¯s waiting for us downstairs.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good. I would be remiss if our guest met no one on his arrival.¡±


    ¡°He is not a guest,¡± Anais grumbled under her breath. ¡°He¡¯s a parasite.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps. But whoever said guests had to be wanted¡­ or nice.¡±


    Anais slipped her hand beneath the apron of her maid uniform and brought out a small phone. ¡°I need to confirm Bella and Giorni are doing their work.¡±


    There were too many plans in place.


    And with the children present, anything could go terribly wrong. She¡¯d advised Vlad against this decision but he¡¯d ignored her. The blood never lied, he¡¯d said.


    To him, everything happening now was how it was meant to happen. It didn''t matter what logic demanded. It didn''t matter that he should''ve found a way to handle this confrontation when the children were not around.


    It was the reason she hated his class. He should''ve just been a medium.


    Vlad waved her off with a raised hand. ¡°Do not worry about Bella. She¡¯s doing her work perfectly well.¡±


    He held a finger up and twirled it, indicating the space around them.


    ¡°Even now I can feel her skill permeating the place.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I almost don¡¯t want to go downstairs.¡±


    Anais knew he¡¯d meant the words to reassure her, but it did nothing of the kind. Bella was an employee specifically picked for her Class. She was a D-rank Illusionist who specialized in mental illusions. Some people called her a false telepath but she disagreed.


    Anais agreed.


    The normal Illusionist bent light and warped sounds until it suited whatever lie they wanted to show their target. What Bella did was get into a person¡¯s mind and have them convince themselves of whatever she wanted them to.


    And it worked in a versatile way, she could even make people decide not to do something. If Anais was to give her a category, just as she was a Weaver of self, she¡¯d call her an Illusionist of the mind.


    Her skills weren¡¯t strong enough to do much in a bind, and she usually needed time to set them up. And any competent C-rank could see beyond it.


    But they hadn¡¯t hired her for her skills against C-ranks, or even any Gifted. She was hired because it worked perfectly well on normal people.


    For it to be affecting Vlad in any way spoke volumes of his current state of strength. And if their unwanted guest was anything like the rumors and stories she¡¯d heard of him when they were still in Romania, then Vlad needed her and Tepes more than she thought. Their duty, even if he didn''t say so, would be to buy him the time he needed to use the skill that was his trump card.


    At least she hoped so.


    Anais put the phone away, and followed dutifully beside him.


    ¡°He¡¯s come here to kill you, uncle,¡± she said. ¡°You know that.¡±


    Vlad nodded. ¡°He has.¡±


    ¡°Tepes and I don¡¯t intend to allow you die. The world still needs you.¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t intend to die, my child.¡± Vlad placed a hand on the railing of the stairs, needing the support as they climbed down. ¡°But I don¡¯t intend to see him die, either.¡±


    Anais didn¡¯t like this.


    ¡°Is there a way?¡± she asked.


    ¡°None that the blood has spoken off.¡±


    ¡°And yet you¡¯ve let it come to this?¡±


    Vlad looked at her and smiled softly. ¡°Oh, my child. Where there is a will, there is always a way.¡±


    It was something he said often. Against her own position on this, Anais couldn¡¯t help but complete it.


    ¡°And all we have to do is find the way.¡±


    When they got to the bottom of the stairs Vlad paused in shock. He stared at the man standing at the entrance, giving a silent Tepes a friendly smile.


    When they arrived, the man looked up at him, then waved. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten old, Vlad.¡±


    If his words offended Vlad, he did not show it.


    Instead, he made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ¡°For people like us, age is more than a number.¡± Then he frowned. ¡°But we grow forward, Turin, not backward.¡±


    Anais watched the man standing casually in their home.


    A few hours ago Vlad had called the employees of the mansion. Not all of them, just the few he¡¯d needed. Then he¡¯d given them instructions, contingencies to be set in place, routines to be ignored.


    All for this boy?


    She was confused. The person they had been looking for was supposed to be in his late thirties, mature. Not young. Not¡­


    ¡­This boy can¡¯t be who we¡¯re waiting for, right?


    She looked from the boy at the door to Vlad.


    Was his skill wrong?


    She doubted it. It was the skill that had led to the rumors that had people believing he was a medium. There was yet to be a person whose eventual location his skill had gotten wrong. It was either right or it had no answer. And after years of making attempts, he¡¯d finally said Turin would be here.


    But Turin¡¯s meant to be older.


    Turin folded his arms over his chest. From his belt four canteens dangled. It made him look odd. But Anais knew it wasn¡¯t a fashion statement. Sometimes weak Gifted carried things to support their skills.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look so good, Vlad,¡± Turin said. ¡°And I go by Joshua here. Turin¡¯s a bit¡­ old school.¡±


    Vlad shook his head in disbelief.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look so satisfied to see me.¡± Turin rubbed his hairless jaw. ¡°Is it the face? Are you worried people might think you¡¯re my grandfather, cousin?¡±


    ¡°What have you done?¡±


    Over the distance between them and with the weakness of his voice Anais was surprised Turin could even hold a conversation with him.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything,¡± Turin said. ¡°The world did. I got a skill upgrade.¡±


    ¡°Impossible,¡± Anais spat.


    Turin spared her a scathing look. ¡°Be quiet, child. Your betters are speaking.¡±


    Standing to one side, Tepes spoke for the first time since Anais and Vlad had arrived.


    ¡°Are you my better as well, Master Turin?¡±


    Turin gave him a warm smile that reached his eyes. ¡°Never, Tepes. If there was ever a better man than you, I am yet to meet him.¡±


    Tepes gave a low bow at the neck, ever the butler.


    ¡°As I was saying, cousin.¡± Turin¡¯s smile slipped back into something mocking. It seemed it was what he kept for Vlad. ¡°I was gifted with a skill evolution. I could either make Tonic of Blood stronger, or I could get something new. Guess which one I did?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Vlad asked. He looked tired.


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Walking Flesh is not a skill you or anyone should choose.¡±


    ¡°Why? Just because you don¡¯t like it that doesn¡¯t make it bad.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t like it?!¡± Vlad scoffed in derision. ¡°The skill warps the body at the cost of too much blood? Do you know how much blood is required to run such a skill?¡±


    Turin looked at Vlad as if it was a stupid question. Then he spread his hands.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t possibly know, Vlad. It¡¯s not as if I¡¯m not currently using the skill.¡±


    Anais gritted her teeth, appalled. Disgusted.


    She knew the skill Walking Flesh. People called it a chameleon skill, but anyone with any level of decency knew better than to choose it when offered. In and off itself she saw no use for it, and the cost was too steep.


    It was a skill that bent flesh and molded muscles. At the cost of blood and flesh.


    ¡°You¡¯re disgusting.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t help herself. The words had just come out, blurting her true thoughts.


    Turin looked at her like she was filth. ¡°And you are becoming a nuisance, child. One more word out of you and I¡¯ll have your tongue.¡±


    Anais couldn¡¯t believe his arrogance. She and Vlad stood above him by the simple virtue of still being on the stairs. Yet he managed to look down on her so easily.


    It grated her, and it wasn¡¯t the drawbacks of using her skill. She hadn¡¯t weaved anything today.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to¡ª¡±


    Vlad hushed her with a raised hand.


    When she was silent, and sure that she would remain so, he spoke.


    ¡°What happens now, Turin?¡± He lowered his hand, rested it on the rail. ¡°You¡¯ve made an abomination of yourself, and you know where I stand on that. I cannot let this be.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s always about you,¡± Turin sighed. ¡°I tell you my name is now Joshua, and what do you do? Ignore it. Now you¡¯re telling me about how you can¡¯t let me be with a skill I was offered from my own hard work just because you have some sick notion that there are skills that are simply inherently evil.¡±


    He shook his head and took a casual step to the side. ¡°Open your eyes, Vlad. Even the council refused your proposal to mark skills as forbidden. There are no such things as evil skills. Just skills, and people.¡±


    Anais agreed. She couldn¡¯t think of one positive use for Walking Flesh but she knew skills were not evil, only those who used it.


    And she was staring at one evil person right now. Her hands itched to cast a skill, to weave.


    At one side of the room Tepes remained standing.


    ¡°Do you have any idea why the council refused you, Vlad?¡± Turin was saying. ¡°It¡¯s not because you were wrong. Think about it, you¡¯re an A-rank Gifted, and your Class allows you dabble in questionable things thanks to your skills. In fact, I could argue that your Class is inherently evil, which means you should know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Anais had always wondered why Vlad¡¯s proposal had been rejected. She had not agreed with it, but she hadn¡¯t expected it to be rejected either.


    Now was her chance to know.


    Turin¡¯s eyes moved slowly over to her, before going back to Vlad.


    What does this have to do with me?


    Turin shook his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I thought you¡¯d been divining with the blood of others which would leave you at full strength, so I came here ready to have a long conversation, use subterfuge and all that. But looking at you, I can see you¡¯ve chosen the stupid path of using your own blood. So I guess there¡¯s no need for the unnecessary stories.¡±


    He pulled out a gun and everyone grew alert. The tension in the air was so strong anyone could reach out and touch it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong. This isn¡¯t for you.¡± He pointed the gun up. ¡°It¡¯s for the subterfuge.¡±


    Then he pulled the trigger.


    The explosion was so loud that Anais winced. It dug a hole in the ceiling and some debris fell over Turin¡¯s shoulder.


    He looked at the gun then at the stairs. ¡°That¡¯s odd. I was expecting some panic by now. Did you drug the children and their teachers?¡±


    Anais turned a worried look on Vlad. ¡°I thought you said he doesn¡¯t harm kids.¡±


    ¡°I was wrong,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯s changed too much.¡±


    Turin pointed the gun up again, and fired.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯d go as far as sedating the kids,¡± he muttered. ¡°Is it a barrier? No, I¡¯d feel the effect. I might just be a C-rank but we¡¯re not as useless as people like to think. Besides,¡± he looked up, ¡°the ceiling¡¯s cracked, so it can¡¯t be a barrier.¡±


    It was a barrier. Two-folds actually.


    Giorni kept a physical barrier active. It covered only the second floor above them, though. The floor the children and their teachers inhabited. While Bella held all of them in a wide spread mental illusion.


    Giorni''s barrier would keep out most of the noise they would make, while Bella¡¯s illusion would convince anyone that might hear anything that whatever was happening downstairs was not interesting enough to check. Only a Gifted of significant rank would be unaffected. And none of their guests were Gifted.


    Anais understood Vlad¡¯s desire to give a family member one last chance, but everything about the man in front of her screamed against it.


    Turin wasn¡¯t a man deserving of chances. If he looked eighteen instead of his late thirties, then she could only imagine how much flesh and blood he¡¯d had to consume to achieve it. She could only imagine how many deaths were now on his hands.


    She raised her hands and weaved herself with her main skill, [Chemical Exchange]. It allowed her amplify any aspect of herself at the cost of another. Tepes was already moving as she did.


    The head butler was the closest to Turin, but when Turin raised his gun, he pointed it at Anais and pulled the trigger.


    Another boom filled the air, but she was already done with her weaving.


    She felt the spike in adrenaline and her muscles tighten. She was borrowing from every other aspect of her being to fuel her combat prowess.


    Weavers were like Elementalists. But their elements were the human body. Some could weave emotions or physical aspects or blood or tears or hair. But when a Weaver weaved themselves, they could weave anything to the benefit of the other.


    Anais weaved herself into apathy, giving all her emotions in exchange for agility and power.


    She ducked to the side, knowing Turin¡¯s shot would miss, and darted down the stairs.


    Turin didn¡¯t even flinch as two C-rank Gifted came after him. A C-rank Basher and a C-rank Weaver.


    Instead, he kept his eyes on Vlad, a manic smile on his face.


    ¡°Will you let your underlings do your work for you, Vlad?¡±


    He opened fire on Anais as he dodged a blow from Tepes. He created space between him and them with hurried steps and fired again.


    Anais rolled to the side to dodge the shot as Tepes charged forward.


    Turin didn¡¯t even look bothered. He still had his manic smile and his eyes on Vlad.


    ¡°There¡¯s no fun in this!¡± he barked at Vlad, then aimed the gun at him even though Anais and Tepes had drawn terribly close.


    His smile never shifted. Never waned.


    ¡°MAKE THIS FUN FOR ME, NECROMANCER!¡±


    Then he pulled the trigger.

 TWENTY-NINE: Gluttony

    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Melmarc¡¯s mouth was hanging open.


    Unranked?


    He hadn¡¯t heard of an unranked growth potential before. Wasn¡¯t unranked only for the class ranks? And what the hell was he going to do with Faker? How did Faker even work?


    He was going to be a Gifted Pariah. Other Delvers were not going to want to work with him.


    On another hand, B was a good rank. It wasn¡¯t A, but at least it wasn¡¯t C.


    ¡°Mel?¡±


    He remembered waving away whoever said his name but couldn¡¯t remember how. Maybe he¡¯d just gestured, or he could¡¯ve also done it with his head.


    B-rank Faker.


    He could work with it, right?


    It wasn¡¯t like it was the worst skill out there. And Fakers were also good Delvers. He would need to join a team that trusted him, though. And it wasn¡¯t like teams ran around hating each other, right?


    A team that trusted him wouldn¡¯t have any issues with the fact that he could steal their skills, right?


    Ark wouldn¡¯t mind him stealing his skill, right?


    ¡°Ark?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mel?¡±


    ¡°Would you mind if I s¡ª¡±


    There was a part of his brain that somehow saw through his current state of mind. It reminded him that there were people currently present who didn¡¯t know that Ark was a Gifted. And he wasn¡¯t sure if being a Gifted was a thing Ark would be happy to scream out to the world.


    ¡°Mel?¡±


    This time Melmarc registered his brother¡¯s voice.


    ¡°You¡¯re kind of keeping us hanging over here. You know that, right?¡± There was worry in Ark¡¯s voice. ¡°Is everything alright?¡±


    ¡°Could it be the interface?¡± Delano asked.


    Melmarc was still confused. What normal job could a Faker do? He knew there were Fakers who could copy more than just Class skills.


    If he was one of those, he could join a sport and just keep copying the skill of those at the top. But then, what was his own requirements to copy skills.


    He scratched the top of his head even though it wasn¡¯t itchy. His hand was just looking for something to do with itself.


    ¡°Uncle, D?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mel?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna sounded patient. It was a good thing. There was no worry in his voice. Melmarc didn¡¯t know why, but right now being worried about was the last thing he wanted.


    He stared at his Class but spoke to his uncle. ¡°Would you be bothered if I copied your skill? Like, is it something that could be an issue? It¡¯s not like I¡¯m stealing it and not giving it back or anything. It shouldn¡¯t be too bad, right?¡±


    ¡°You can copy my skill anytime, kiddo.¡±


    His uncle¡¯s voice was soft, calm.


    Melmarc liked talking to Dorthna at times like this.


    ¡°I take it you got Faker,¡± Dorthna said.


    Hearing someone say it out loud just made it too real. It was always real. It just didn¡¯t feel this real. It was like when your phone screen breaks and you just keep running your finger over it, waiting for that moment when you accept that its broken.


    It had happened to him once.


    ¡°Yea, Faker,¡± he answered slowly. ¡°It¡¯s a nice class.¡±


    Delano placed a hand on Melmarc¡¯s shoulder, and he finally looked up at something that wasn¡¯t his class.


    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡±


    Melmarc looked around him. Eroms still had a bag of chips in his hand, but he wasn¡¯t eating from it. On the phone Dorthna had a soft smile, reassuring not mocking. Ark looked like someone had shoved an entire rod up his ass and he was worried that if he took it out the world would end.


    Ninra just looked worried.


    ¡°Uhhh¡­¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what to say. What was on his mind?


    ¡°I¡¯m just wondering how I¡¯m going to live as a Delving pariah,¡± he said finally. ¡°I know it¡¯s a good class. Some members of the top thirty rankers are Fakers, right? But I¡¯m also wondering if I can do it? It¡¯s Faker. Only Fakers like Fakers. And why isn¡¯t Eroms eating? He¡¯s just holding the bag and staring. Being a Faker isn¡¯t so¡ª¡±


    He paused, and another thing came to mind. It was as if it had always been there but he¡¯d just been ignoring it intentionally.


    Delano¡¯s grip on his shoulder tightened. ¡°Marc?¡±


    Melmarc looked up at him. ¡°Earlier you heard a sound.¡±


    ¡°It was a small thud. Nothing important.¡±


    ¡°But you heard a sound. And you heard it from downstairs, after we were explicitly told not to go down stairs. Don¡¯t you want to know what it is?¡±


    ¡°I do, but you just got a class. I wasn¡¯t going to miss it for some small thud. It really doesn¡¯t matter what¡¯s going on downstairs.¡±


    Melmarc looked at his friend through narrowed lids. ¡°It could be Vlad doing vampire things.¡±


    He watched Delano think about it.


    Then Delano shook his head. ¡°We can always get him next time.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯re going home tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe on our next trip.¡±


    ¡°Ark¡¯s graduating this year, and we¡¯ll be graduating next year. We might not come here on our next school trip.¡±


    Why was Delano making up excuses not to go in search of the truth of a secret? He was always up for secrets.


    ¡°Eroms, would you like to go downstairs?¡± he asked.


    Eroms answer was a normal one. He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡±


    Yes.


    Eroms was good because Eroms wasn¡¯t motivated by much that wasn¡¯t food these days. And he usually just went where Delano went. Melmarc was more than certain Eroms had a skill, but if his friend wanted to keep it a secret, he didn''t mind letting him.


    Wait...


    Melmarc was confused. Eroms constant eating and offerings of food was too odd for him to never have considered having a skill. So why hadn''t he? And why was he handling the sudden knowledge as if it was a normal thing?


    He very much wanted to have a conversation about that, but for now he was more interested in more pressing issues.


    ¡°What if Delano and I said we¡¯re going downstairs, would you come with?¡± he asked.


    Eroms shrugged. ¡°Sure.¡±


    Eroms didn¡¯t even need to think about his answer.


    ¡°Is everything alright, Mel?¡± Ninra asked.


    Now she sounded really worried.


    Melmarc was worried about his Class but right now he was more worried about the fact that he hadn¡¯t cared that Delano hadn¡¯t wanted to go downstairs.


    It was true that they were doing more important things, but his friend hadn¡¯t even suggested going after they were done. And he hadn¡¯t even been worried about it. So why was he suddenly worried about it?


    It was like he¡¯d gotten a class and boom, he wanted to know why Delano had no interest in going downstairs.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go downstairs,¡± he blurted out.


    He wasn¡¯t really interested in going downstairs. He was just curious about something else.


    ¡°Why?¡± Delano asked. ¡°It was just a thud, Marc. I don¡¯t see why we should get in trouble over a small noise.¡±


    Now he really wanted to go downstairs.


    ¡°Uncle D?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mel. What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Delano never shies away from learning a secret. Even when we thought the principal might be sleeping with his secretary, he went out of his way to stay in school until the principal and secretary closed.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s creepy,¡± Ninra muttered.


    ¡°Trust me, it¡¯s not. They were actually sleeping together.¡±


    ¡°And now that¡¯s gross.¡±


    Delano looked mortified. ¡°It¡¯s not like I spied on them or anything. I just found out later on when I saw both of them kissing in the parking lot.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t true. He¡¯d all but stalked them until he¡¯d found them going out on a date. The only good thing about Delano¡¯s obsession with learning secrets was that he didn¡¯t learn them to tell them. He learned them to satisfy his own curiosity. He never went about telling them.


    But that was unimportant. And not the point.


    ¡°So Delano loves his secrets,¡± Melmarc continued. ¡°So when we came back this night, we were specifically informed not to go downstairs. But Delano heard a noise not too long ago and doesn¡¯t want to go down. Now he keeps bringing up excuses not to go down.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not excuses,¡± Delano complained. ¡°They¡¯re totally legitimate reasons. We don¡¯t even know how your skills work right now. We should be more focused on that.¡±


    ¡°And we can¡¯t find out right now because there are people around.¡± Melmarc pointed at the wall were the cabinet with all of Eroms¡¯ snacks were. ¡°Darwin and Max are just in that room. What if I use my skill and they somehow feel it? Then they¡¯ll know someone in this room is Gifted.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± Delano shrugged. ¡°We could just say its Eroms and his skill makes people want to give him food.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°What if he needs space to use his skills? Somewhere large and empty. Somewhere like downstairs. It¡¯s supposed to release a burst of mana, and there¡¯s nobody downstairs right now, so it will be perfect for practice.¡±


    Delano shook his head. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t make sense that he¡¯d need so much space.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It just wouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Dorthna sounded like he was on to something. ¡°You said the house employs only Gifted workers, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°What about you?¡± Dorthna asked. ¡°Do you want to go downstairs?¡±


    ¡°Not really, but I wasn¡¯t curious about Delano not wanting to go downstairs until just now.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s the difference between now and then?¡±


    Dorthna knew the answer. It was always how he was. When he got the answer, instead of just telling Melmarc and his siblings, he guided them. Asked them leading questions until they reached the answer themselves.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to think on this one. ¡°I got my Class.¡±


    ¡°With a plus two to mental,¡± Ark added.


    Ninra¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Someone¡¯s using a skill on you guys. And getting your class removed the effect.¡±


    She sounded both terrified and excited.


    Melmarc was only terrified.


    He turned to Eroms. ¡°Last night you said you smelled blood when we got close to that room, right?¡±


    Eroms nodded.


    ¡°And when we were leaving I smelled it, too. And I also saw someone.¡±


    ¡°You saw someone?¡± Delano asked.


    ¡°I saw an eye. It could¡¯ve been nothing but eyes usually belong to people.¡±


    ¡°Or animals,¡± Eroms pointed out.


    That was somehow a scarier thought for Melmarc.


    ¡°I hope not. And, Delano, you said Vlad might be a vampire.¡±


    ¡°He might have a vampire class,¡± Delano corrected. ¡°There¡¯s a difference.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Uncle Dorthna interrupted. ¡°Vlad? Like Vlad Alexandra?¡±


    Melmarc looked at the phone. ¡°Yes. You know him?¡±


    ¡°I do. I can assure you his class isn¡¯t vampire, though. But it¡¯s also not so safe that I¡¯d be happy with the fact that someone might be brainwashing my nephew when he¡¯s on a trip there.¡±


    ¡°Does it have anything to do with blood?¡±


    ¡°A lot of blood.¡± Dorthna closed his eyes in thought. ¡°It was a very weird class, and some of his skills just felt¡­ wrong. Like they didn''t even belong to his class. I worked with him once, and¡­ that¡¯s not important. But he¡¯s mostly a good person. If there¡¯s any issue, its probably one of his staff. You said they¡¯re all Gifted, right?¡±


    Another small thud hit the ground and Melmarc looked down. It was the smallest pop, nothing consequential. It didn¡¯t even feel like something hit the floor, more like he¡¯d just heard it.


    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± He got up from the bed. ¡°We¡¯re going downstairs.¡±


    Delano looked at him like he¡¯d lost his mind. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°The fact that you¡¯re asking that is reason enough.¡±


    ¡°And what do we do when we get downstairs?¡± Delano looked at him and Eroms. ¡°It could be nothing. We¡¯re two floors up. Maybe it¡¯s just someone in the room under us.¡±


    ¡°It would be louder if it was.¡± Melmarc slipped his feet into his slippers. ¡°If it¡¯s this quiet, its likely coming from all the way downstairs.¡±


    ¡°What about your skills?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long walk down.¡± Melmarc paused, holding the handle of their room door. ¡°We can talk about it and make theories on the way. Besides, it¡¯s not like I can do any practical without accidentally informing someone until we get home.¡±


    He opened the door and Eroms was already beside him. He paused and looked back at Delano.


    ¡°You coming?¡±


    He really hoped Delano was coming. Between being a Faker and Eroms eating, he didn¡¯t know the first thing about snooping around. Delano was the snooper in their group.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    If something was really happening downstairs, then they definitely didn¡¯t want to get caught. And Delano not being present increased their chances of getting caught by a lot.


    Melmarc waited patiently, doing his best not to chicken out. If he was being honest, he was just being stubborn. He didn¡¯t like the fact that someone had done something to his friend to make him less of himself.


    And how had they even done it? They couldn¡¯t have focused it on just Delano, it would be ineffective. Even if they knew Delano liked to go looking for things he wasn¡¯t supposed to, it wasn¡¯t like he was the only one like that in their class.


    Off the top of his head Melmarc could mention three people like that. It was just that Delano¡¯s was a lot. On a scale of one to ten, if the others were a nine Delano was a forty-two.


    Delano warred with the idea for what seemed like forever but wasn¡¯t before he let out a groan.


    ¡°You guys owe me for this,¡± he grumbled, snatching Melmarc¡¯s phone from the bed. ¡°And we¡¯re bringing your uncle in case we run into Vlad and he starts to think we¡¯re suspicious.¡±


    ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡±


    ¡°Duh.¡± Delano shook the phone at him. ¡°It never hurts to have someone he knows vouch for us.¡±


    Didn¡¯t he say he¡¯d worked with him just once?


    Melmarc kept that tidbit of information to himself as they left the room.


    The stroll wasn¡¯t very long. The hallway was quiet. The doors to the other rooms were closed, presumably locked.


    As they walked, Delano seemed more interested in Melmarc¡¯s Class.


    ¡°So Faker, huh.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He didn¡¯t really want to think about it right now. But if he really was to, the skills had basically been advertising the Class.


    [Knowledge is Power]. If he interpreted it directly, it said everything. It basically gathered the skills to him as information. Then [Bless Your Kindness] gave him the ability to use it.


    He¡¯d literally walked into the Faker class.


    ¡°You know Faker Classes aren¡¯t bad, right?¡± Delano said. ¡°Petty people just don¡¯t like them.¡±


    They were at the stairs now, and they took the steps slowly. Delano was the slowest of them but Melmarc didn¡¯t address it. If they were truly under the effect of a skill, then they were lucky enough to have been able to convince him to even leave the room.


    ¡°A glorified mimic,¡± Melmarc muttered.


    Delano deflated a little. ¡°Okay, I know I said that, but it only proves my point. I¡¯m petty.¡±


    ¡°Low budget mage.¡±


    ¡°Okay, that one might sound bad but it¡¯s not as bad as you think. A low budget lambo will still work better than a tricycle. It¡¯s like having the fake version of the best thing. It¡¯s not the best, but it¡¯s not so bad.¡±


    They were at the bottom of the first flight of stairs. Two more and they would be downstairs.


    ¡°Your friend has a point,¡± Dorthna said.


    Somehow in their silence Melmarc had forgotten that they were still on the call.


    ¡°A copy of the best is still better than the mediocre.¡±


    That still didn¡¯t cheer Melmarc up.


    ¡°Fakers are complicated,¡± he said. ¡°Like Mages. I don¡¯t want to have to solve equations when I want to use my skills. It will slow me down.¡±


    ¡°Maybe in the beginning,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°But with practice it won¡¯t slow you down.¡±


    Melmarc knew that. He really did. But it was hard not to focus on the social aspect of Fakers. If he was going to be a good Delver, he needed to work with a team.


    This wasn¡¯t the comic books where he could be a solo Delver and be all mysterious and powerful. Yes, Dragon-knight did it, but she was different. She had her own familiar and could literally breathe out fire.


    If he went into a dungeon alone, he¡¯d die. He had zero offensive skills.


    They were walking down the second flight of stairs now and they heard a sound. It wasn¡¯t a small thud.


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Did you hear that?¡±


    Delano nodded. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a girl grunting?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head sadly. With Delano¡¯s obsession over Ninra it was easy to forget his female attention extended to girls in general.


    ¡°It was a person grunting,¡± Eroms said. ¡°Trust you to know it¡¯s a girl. That¡¯s why my cousin calls you a pervert.¡±


    ¡°Your cousin calls me a pervert because she made the mistake of swiping when I gave her my phone to look at a picture.¡± Delano shrugged. ¡°Everyone knows you don¡¯t swipe when someone shows you a picture.¡±


    There was a loud crash and all three of them froze.


    Delano smiled mischievously. ¡°They must be going at it really hard.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think what his friend was insinuating was correct.


    ¡°Hey, Ark. I¡¯m switching back to voice call.¡± He inched closer to one of the railings. ¡°I¡¯ll leave the call going in case something¡¯s wrong.¡±


    The faces of everyone on the call turned stern. Dorthna¡¯s turned thoughtful.


    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± Ninra asked. ¡°Going downstairs doesn¡¯t seem very reasonable right now.¡±


    Yes, it didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Of course it is.¡± Delano was basically on the balls of his feet now. ¡°We need to know what¡¯s happening. For all we know, Vlad¡¯s probably having someone over for dinner¡­ get it?¡±


    Eroms put a hand on Delano¡¯s shoulder to calm his excitement. ¡°We get it, D. But Mr. Dorthna already said he¡¯s not a vampire.¡±


    Another crash rang through.


    Melmarc did his best to ignore it as he turned his attention to the call. ¡°We¡¯re not going down to get involved with what¡¯s happening. We just want to know.¡±


    ¡°Then what?¡± Ark asked.


    Dorthna was still quiet.


    ¡°Then we find a way to get out to safety if we need to.¡±


    ¡°Wait. Safety?¡± Delano looked from Melmarc to the phone. ¡°Do you guys know what¡¯s happening?¡±


    Sometimes it was hard to tell if Delano was joking about things he was oblivious to. Now was one of those times.


    There was another crash and grunt, this one clearly masculine.


    Delano¡¯s confused expression turned to realization. ¡°¡­Oh.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Alright, then,¡± Delano said with new found seriousness. ¡°We¡¯ve got to be very careful now. If it¡¯s as bad as it sounds, then we¡¯ve got to be ready to run at any time.¡±


    ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t that interested?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Not interested?¡± Delano looked at him like he was crazy. ¡°Dude, we might have at least two Gifted fighting down there. Do you know how many people get to see two Gifted fighting?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. He¡¯d spent the better part of last week watching Ark breathe fire and spar a little with their uncle. The latter wasn¡¯t any much different from their self-defense classes, but the former was quite impressive.


    Delano sighed. ¡°I swear you guys with Gifted in your family don¡¯t know how good you¡¯ve got it.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Ninra muttered sarcastically. ¡°But seriously, I¡¯m against you going down there.¡±


    There was another crash. This time it was followed by a whipping sound.


    Delano shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. We¡¯ll be careful. If it¡¯s dangerous we¡¯ll be out of the building before you can say I love you.¡±


    Ninra fell silent. It was the kind of silence that preludes another refusal. But she said nothing.


    Before Melmarc switched the call back to voice call Dorthna spoke.


    ¡°Mel.¡±


    ¡°Yes, uncle.¡±


    ¡°Do you have any idea how to use your skills?¡±


    It was odd getting that kind of question at this time. Most people said learning how to activate your skill wasn¡¯t difficult, the difficulty was in mastering it.


    Melmarc thought about it and just knew he could. How? He had no idea. He simply knew he could just the way he knew a few mathematical equations.


    ¡°I think so,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Good enough. Now what you need to know now is that some skills can be used in a way different from what we think is their main function.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He understood but wanted to know where his uncle was heading. Also, his uncle seemed a little too quick to accept his answer. Wasn''t he supposed to confirm it somehow?


    ¡°That your skill, Knowledge Is Power," Dorthna said. "What does it do?¡±


    ¡°Gathers information around me. Like a scouting skill.¡±


    ¡°Good. But there are other things. You said while it¡¯s active you can¡¯t be hurt and you can¡¯t hurt anybody. Technically speaking.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it. ¡°So it can be used as a defense skill?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Remember that.¡±


    Then Dorthna switched the call to voice himself.


    Melmarc looked at Delano and Eroms, shrugged, then slipped the phone in his pocket.


    ¡°Great,¡± Delano said. ¡°He gets a defensive skill and we get zilch.¡±


    ¡°I have a defensive skill,¡± Eroms said.


    Delano patted him on the arm. ¡°Of course you do. It gives you food and keeps you from starving to death. Come on, let¡¯s go before the fight ends.¡±


    Melmarc was slightly stuck on Eroms claiming he had a defensive skill, specifically how casually he''d said it. How many times had he casually said it to Delano and how many times had he taken it as a joke? Delano''s reaction made it hard to tell. If Eroms was a Gifted, he would''ve told Delano already... Right? But if he had, would that mean that Delano just wasn''t taking him serious?


    Was it just Delano being Delano or was it a part of Eroms skill?


    Melmarc shelved the thought for now, focusing on the more immediate issue. What was happening downstairs?


    .....


    They didn¡¯t get to the bottom of the stairs.


    The last flight that opened into the grand stairway that led to the entrance¡¯s main hall was interrupted. At the center of the stairway Vlad stood in a red coat. It was long and went all the way down to his ankles. It had black lapels and a black rope that served as a belt. And it was wooly.


    But the fact that he was wearing something designed to keep out the cold in a room where the temperature was properly warm was the least of their problems.


    The main hall was a small mess. The floor was broken in different places, small craters as if something really heavy had fallen from a great height in each place.


    Melmarc counted eight.


    Amidst the chaos, a young boy probably around their age, danced about as he was chased down by a lady in a maid¡¯s outfit and a man in a suit. Each of them moved with enough speed to outmaneuver most people, but the boy was just as quick.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that your horny maid?¡± Eroms whispered as quietly as he could.


    Delano nodded.


    He said nothing. His hand reached into his pocket, and he brought out his phone.


    Melmarc panicked a little. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Getting this on camera.¡±


    The young boy dodged a vicious high kick from the maid. It left him open to a blow from the man in the suit.


    His steps had thrown him off balance, and he was staggering right into the blow. But he didn¡¯t seem bothered at all.


    The man in the suit threw a punch and the boy made a gesture with his hand. He wore canteens around his belt and they shook at the gesture. Everything else happened fast.


    Their caps came off and red liquid rushed out of them. It coalesced in front of him and the man in the suit struck it.


    It stopped his blow without even shaking.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that Joshua?¡± Melmarc asked from where they were hiding.


    ¡°Who cares?¡± Delano zoomed in on Joshua. ¡°He¡¯s a Gifted with blood manipulation. Do you think he¡¯s an evolved water Elementalist or just blood specialized?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think anything.


    He was only sure of one thing. ¡°We have to go.¡±


    Eroms was already moving, but Delano¡¯s response stopped him.


    ¡°Go where?¡± Delano asked. ¡°We can¡¯t jump from the second floor.¡±


    ¡°We can tie a few sheets together and throw it down the window,¡± Eroms suggested.


    Delano gave him a flat look. ¡°First, that only works in the movies. Second, we¡¯ve got three beds and three sheets. Not enough sheets.¡±


    ¡°We can ask the others for¡ª¡±


    A loud crack filled the stairway. Something struck the balustrade ahead of them and shattered it. Melmarc turned quickly. He leapt back, pulling Delano by the collar of his shirt.


    ¡°It¡¯s rude to spy on others, kids.¡±


    The voice carried all the way to them. It was young, strong.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what to do. They could take the chance and run, but if Joshua could attack them from that distance, he could likely attack them from farther away.


    ¡°Come on out, kids,¡± Joshua continued easily. ¡°No need to be scared. No one¡¯s going to hurt you. Isn¡¯t that right, Vlad?¡±


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Eroms whispered, voice trembling.


    ¡°It¡¯s a no brainer,¡± Delano whispered back. ¡°We should run.¡±


    Joshua laughed from where he was. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t advise that. If you do, I can¡¯t keep my word.¡±


    He can hear us from there? Melmarc wondered. Wait, what happened to the maid and the other guy?


    Melmarc¡¯s mind was spinning, searching. He wanted to ask his uncle but was scared to bring out his phone. He¡¯d also removed it from speaker so he doubted they could hear what was going on from their end.


    But despite all that, there was a more important question. What is Vlad doing?


    He was an A-class Gifted. A former Delver. Was Joshua strong enough that he couldn¡¯t stop him? Was Joshua an A-rank Gifted, or higher?


    Delano took a step down the stairs and Melmarc¡¯s hand, still on his collar, tightened.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked Delano.


    Delano looked back at him, tried for a reassuring smile and failed. ¡°Trying not to get us killed?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± Joshua said. ¡°I¡¯d suggest you hurry up before these two free themselves and try to go another round.¡±


    Free themselves? Melmarc was confused. Now he was curious to know what had happened.


    Finally, Vlad played a part. ¡°The children are my guests, Turin.¡±


    ¡°Well, you know me,¡± Joshua¡ªor maybe he was Turin?¡ªanswered. ¡°I hate guests that roam about in the night.¡±


    ¡°They are just children. You don¡¯t harm children.¡±


    ¡°And I promised not to. As long as they cooperate.¡±


    Delano took another step down, and Melmarc couldn¡¯t bring himself to stop him.


    This was all his fault. They had been happy and oblivious in their room. And they would¡¯ve remained that way if he hadn¡¯t gone poking around just because he could.


    If getting his class was the reason he¡¯d been released from whatever skill had been affecting him, then he couldn¡¯t think of a worse time to get a class.


    At least in your stories you can say getting your class was memorable. You picked it and were freed from a skill.


    Delano took another step that placed more than half of his lower body in view. Melmarc and Eroms followed, trying not to seem as terrified as they were.


    ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± Joshua was saying. ¡°Just a few more and I¡¯ll be able to see you. I thought you¡¯d have like a barrier or something up to keep them safe, Vlad. Hell, if it was me I¡¯d have drugged them.¡± There was a thoughtful pause. ¡°But that¡¯s just me. Come on down, kids. I¡¯m waiting.¡±


    Melmarc and his friends walked down into view. That was when he saw what had happened to the two people he had been fighting.


    The maid and butler were trapped in bubbles of blood. They were struggling inside their bubbles, looking for a way out.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them,¡± Joshua said when they came into view. ¡°They aren¡¯t actually drowning, but people have programmed themselves to get out when trapped in a body of water. All they have to do is not breathe and their blood will be supplied with enough oxygen.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know if the boy was trustworthy or not.


    When they got down the stairs and got to where Vlad was standing, Joshua motioned them to stop. ¡°That¡¯s good enough.¡±


    He waved at Delano. ¡°It¡¯s been a while, kid. Miss me?¡±


    Delano¡¯s hand tightened around his phone. He was still videoing. ¡°I¡¯m live right now, and I currently have over a thousand views.¡± He¡¯s voice was trembling but he pushed forward. ¡°Everyone¡¯s watching.¡±


    Joshua shook his head. ¡°You know what? I¡¯ve disliked you ever since we met. I don¡¯t really know why. You just sound like a kid who just gets bullied because he¡¯s designed that way. I bet you get bullied every time you open your mouth.¡±


    No one is designed to get bullied. Melmarc had intended to say the words but they died in his mind.


    Joshua paused in thought. ¡°Over a thousand views, huh?¡±


    Delano nodded.


    Beside them Melmarc realized why Vlad wasn¡¯t helping. He looked paler than when he¡¯d addressed them on their arrival. He looked like someone who was dying. Even his breathing looked troubled.


    What did Joshua do to him?


    In front of Joshua the maid and the man in suit had stopped struggling.


    ¡°Ah, I see they¡¯ve figured it out.¡± Joshua stepped past them so that they were now behind him. ¡°How unfortunate. It means they¡¯ll soon be out. In that case.¡±


    Something changed on Joshua¡¯s face. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what it is, all he knew was that he saw it, noticed it.


    Vlad did, too. ¡°Turin they¡¯re just kids. You don¡¯t harm children.¡±


    ¡°People change, Vlad.¡±


    Joshua threw his hand forward and one of the canteens on his waist burst open. A spray of blood shot forward like a lance, straight and sharp. It crossed the distance, headed for Delano.


    Delano flinched away from it.


    Melmarc moved.


    Vlad followed, but was surprisingly far too slow.


    Eroms beat them to it.


    Joshua let out a loud laugh. ¡°Oh my God! Just look at the four of you. It¡¯s hilarious.¡±


    Delano had fallen down on one of the stairs, and Melmarc was standing where he¡¯d once stood. Vlad had a pained look on his face and had barely crossed the distance.


    The real problem was Eroms.


    He stood in front of all of them with a spear of blood going through his chest. He held on tight to it, as if trying to prevent it from going any further.


    The sharp end of it had come out the other side, stopping just in front of Melmarc.


    ¡°I remember you.¡± Joshua made a gesture with his hand, and the spear of blood returned to the canteen. ¡°You were the one I really wanted to give my chocolate bar to this afternoon. That¡¯s a very strong mental skill you¡¯ve got there. Too bad it¡¯s mental.¡±


    Eroms crumpled to the stairs, bleeding from his chest. He barely stopped himself from rolling down the stairs.


    Vlad looked horrified. ¡°What have you done, Turin?¡±


    ¡°Oh shut up cousin. If you want to stop me, then stop me. You have all the tools you need. See, the boy is bleeding out. That¡¯s more than enough blood.¡±


    Melmarc was beside Eroms.


    He¡¯d learned basic first aid as a child. They taught him that when a person was severely wounded like this, you needed to stop the flow of blood by applying pressure. So he put both hands on the injury and applied as much pressure as he could.


    His hands trembled. He didn¡¯t feel like he was helping. The blood had gone through Eroms, pierced his chest and come out the back. How was he supposed to apply pressure to the exit wound?


    Behind him Delano was crying as he crawled up to Eroms. He was muttering a single sentence repeatedly.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to tell them that it was going to be alright. He wanted to lie to them, grant them false hope. Calm them.


    But the words wouldn¡¯t leave his mouth.


    ¡°Come on, Vlad,¡± Joshua was taunting. ¡°Get all the blood you need and stop me.¡±


    ¡°The child will die!¡± Vlad said, his voice pained, panicked. Torn.


    ¡°What does it matter? He¡¯ll die regardless.¡± Joshua looked around, confused. ¡°Or is it the amount? Are you worried that there¡¯s not enough blood to help you stop me in your current state?¡±


    ¡°Turin, no.¡±


    ¡°No, I get it.¡± Joshua gestured and this time the blood slipped slowly out of the canteen like a snake. ¡°I thought the big guy would have enough blood. But you¡¯re right. It might still not be enough.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t take his hands of Eroms¡¯ injury, but he was well aware of what was happening.


    We¡¯re going to die. And an A-class Gifted can¡¯t do anything about it.


    There was something soul breaking about it. He didn¡¯t want to die. He didn¡¯t want his friends to die.


    He didn¡¯t want Joshua to win.


    ¡°I want to take out the bully-able kid,¡± Joshua said. ¡°But he¡¯s too small, not enough blood, in my opinion.¡±


    He gestured again and the blood shot forward in a straight line. It made its way for Melmarc.


    Skills could be used in more than one way. Melmarc remembered it as a lance of blood shot at him, and he activated his skill.


    It was like muscle memory, like jumping, or remembering an equation. There was a brief delay before it activated.


    [You have activated Knowledge Is Power.]


    Melmarc felt slightly heavier, grounded.


    A burst of something left him. It reached out around him like an expanding dome of dull, translucent, white light, traveling beyond him. It phased through everyone around him, passing through Joshua and his blood bubbles. Vlad and Eroms and Delano.


    Joshua¡¯s spear of blood struck him powerfully. Its sharp point hit him in the head and bounced off, letting out a dull ping like a muffled bell.


    A notification popped up in front of him.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Pain filled Melmarc¡¯s head.


    It was brief, and instant. It felt like something had stabbed through him.


    Joshua frowned at the sight, and the spear of blood struck Melmarc two more times. Each one was in the same spot and the notification flared each time.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect].


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Pain flared each time and the force pushed Melmarc back so that his hands left Eroms.


    Then he saw the white light returning to him.


    The skill was ending. The burst of mana was returning to him. Panic flared along with the pain.


    The spear of blood struck a fourth time but never made it. Vlad¡¯s hand reached out and grabbed it.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough!¡±


    Joshua cocked his head to the side. ¡°Are you now going to be the hero? Is it time for the superhero to save the¡ª¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s skill passed through him on its way back and he froze.


    His lips twisted into a scowl. ¡°What the hell was that?!¡±


    The dome retracted all the way into Melmarc. When it went through Vlad, he stiffened slightly as well. With the skill ended, Melmarc felt light again. Lighter, actually.


    Another notification popped up in front of him.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 6.]


    [You have received 6 Potential buffs.]


    [Blood Draw](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted manipulates blood, using it as a projectile


    [Blood Rush](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted manipulates the blood within them to achieve increased speed.


    [Crushing Blow](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted punches with eight times their overall power.


    [Chemical Exchange](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted increases a bodily attribute at the cost of another.


    [Video](Mastery 100.00%)


    The Human picks up a camera and records a video.


    [Gluttony](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted draws on the nutrients stored over time to increase physical attributes.


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:01:59.]


    Melmarc stared at the notification. Suddenly he knew a lot of things. He knew Joshua¡¯s real name was Turin Alexandra. He knew the maid was called Anais Alexandra (Ilkov). The man in suit was actually a butler, and his name was Tepes Veleno.


    He also knew that Vlad was an A-class Necromancer. He knew more things, too.


    When he looked up from his notification, the world was different.


    Everyone had an indicator above their heads with information on them. Melmarc didn¡¯t need to think to understand them. Beside their names were their classes written in brackets and their ranks just after.


    The names and indicators each had a color. The butler and maid, Tepes and Anais, were C-rank Basher and C-rank Weaver, respectively. Each one was lit up in grey.


    Joshua, who was actually Turin, was a Blood Master, B-rank. His name and indicator were red.


    Melmarc looked down at Eroms, hoping there would be something to do to save his friend.


    When he stared at his friend¡¯s bright green name and indicator, he froze.


    [Eroms Newt Amurun (Gluttony)(S).]

 THIRTY: Chemical Exchange

    Eroms was a Gifted?


    Well, it kind of made sense in a way. Hindsight being what it was, Melmarc could see the possibility. It was very clear now. The constant eating and being offered food. The question now was how long had it been going on, and why hadn¡¯t he and Delano connected the dots.


    A small breeze ruffled his hair. It shook him from his daze and he looked up to find Vlad grabbing another spear of blood.


    He was fully returned to the present.


    He was in a house under the very present threat of death.


    Vlad took a step down the stairs and batted aside another spear of blood. In actuality, the way Joshua¡ªMelmarc just couldn¡¯t bring himself to think of him as Turin¡ªused it, it was of a blood whip than a spear of blood.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re getting your sail back, Vlad.¡± Joshua moved both hands and another canteen opened up.


    He had two whips of blood at his disposal. His focus was on Vlad, and the host didn¡¯t seem to mind. His steps were slow, but his hands moved with enough speed to outpace the whips.


    He said nothing as he climbed down the stairs, slapping aside whips of blood with the back of his hands.


    Melmarc ignored the message and returned to applying pressure on Eroms¡¯ injury. His hands were bloody and his friend felt squishy.


    Delano was right beside him, pressing on his hands with as much force as he could.


    ¡°You can¡¯t die on me, E,¡± he was saying to Eroms, tears in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve still got a lot of things you have to bully me for. You haven¡¯t gotten me back for that time I hid your food and convinced you that you¡¯d already eaten it.¡±


    Above Delano¡¯s head his name and indicator were green.


    [Delano Nettor]


    There was no class indicator or rank. There had been a part of Melmarc that had expected to see ¡®human¡¯ in bracket or something.


    He was really curious about it, but his curiosity took a far back seat in the face of his panic and fear.


    Was he really going to lose a friend here, just because he¡¯d thought someone was messing with his friend¡¯s mind for the wrong reasons?


    There had to be a way to save Eroms. He had people around him. The good guy was a Necromancer. Vlad¡¯s name and indicator were green so that had to mean something, right?


    What did he know about Necromancers? Apart from the fact that they muddled about with the dead and the dying.


    Did they have healing skills?


    He rummaged through his mind and found nothing. Necromancer was a class that got stronger with dying and death. Some of them got strength boosts from how many they killed. Some simply had skills that were closely related with dying or death.


    The truth was Necromancer wasn¡¯t a famous class, and people did their best to avoid it. There were rumors that it wasn¡¯t as hated in some countries, but America wasn¡¯t one of such countries.


    So not very much was known of Necromancer.


    What of a Blood Master?


    The thought came to him almost immediately. At the bottom of the stairs Vlad had begun engaging Joshua in battle. It was nothing like what Melmarc would¡¯ve expected from a fight between Gifted, but to say it wasn¡¯t a powerful battle would be a lie.


    Just the sounds of the blood whips making contact with Vlad as he batted them aside was loud enough to make a difference.


    Wait, why am I even thinking about them?


    Melmarc took his mind off the fight and reached into his pocket with a bloody hand. He brought out his phone and ended his still ongoing call with the others back home.


    He wanted to tell them he¡¯d call back, but he was worried it was too soon to speak. The last thing he wanted was to draw Joshua¡¯s attention. It was unreasonable to think a B-rank would have the time to pay them when engaging an A-rank, but Vlad didn¡¯t look very dependable right now.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to move him,¡± Melmarc told Delano in a whisper. ¡°We need to get him back up.¡±


    Delano was still crying, hands pressed against Eroms wound. ¡°We can¡¯t move him. What if he gets worse?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t really have an answer to that. He didn¡¯t even know how they were going to move Eroms. The boy weighed a lot. And while he¡¯d just become a Gifted, he hadn¡¯t gotten any Strength stat boost, so he was fairly certain he wasn¡¯t much stronger now than he had been, then.


    But there was the overall stat boost that came from Bless Your Kindness. The question was if it was enough to move Eroms.


    He slipped his phone back into his pocket and it began buzzing. Ark was likely trying to call him back already.


    Melmarc really wanted to pick the call and assure them that he was fine, but now wasn¡¯t the time. Priorities put them in second place. First place was Eroms¡¯ and their survival.


    For that, they had to move.


    ¡°Help me pull him, D.¡± He already had Delano by one of his arms and was pulling.


    As he¡¯d thought, it was almost impossible, which also made it deadly. But what else could they do? Stay here and hope Joshua doesn¡¯t win?


    Melmarc dropped Eroms¡¯ arm. They needed a way.


    Think.


    His mind was running wild while Joshua¡¯s whips of blood marked the entire hall.


    Maybe if I can just get to one of them, he thought, staring at the bubbles of blood. Anais and Tepes were struggling less now, and it felt like they¡¯d be out soon.


    Tepes was a Basher, and Bashers were known for their strength. He would have enough strength to lift Eroms like a piece of cloth.


    Melmarc took one step down and discarded the idea. A blood whip ripped through the ground with enough force to dig a line in it. The smoke that came out of it was enough to let Melmarc know that he wouldn¡¯t survive an accidental blow from the skill.


    He stepped back up.


    Eroms coughed up blood and Delano started murmuring sweet nonsense to him. Melmarc ignored Delano¡¯s words. If Eroms was coughing up blood, then it was a good and bad sign.


    The bad was that he was still dying. The good was that he was still dying, so he wasn¡¯t dead yet.


    Another thought came to Melmarc and he brought up his notifications.


    Status buffs affected the Gifted, made them better somehow. And he had six to choose from. With [Bless Your Kindness] still in effect, he knew all the buffs he had access to. He also knew the one he wanted.


    [Crushing Blow](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted punches with eight times their overall power.


    [Chemical Exchange](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted increases a bodily attribute at the cost of another.


    [Video](Mastery 100.00%)


    The Human picks up a camera and records a video.


    ¡­


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:00:23.]


    He would¡¯ve loved to get down the stairs and help Vlad defeat Joshua, but this wasn¡¯t that kind of story. He wasn¡¯t delusional.


    Joshua looked like he knew what he was doing, and so did Vlad.


    A sixteen-year-old, just Gifted, didn¡¯t join in such a fight and expect to make a difference. That would be stupid. He had no skill and no training to prepare him for such an encounter.


    He had his mind set elsewhere.


    He made his choice and a new notification came up.


    [Would you like to use Chemical Exchange? You will not be able to renege on this decision?]


    [Yes/No.]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    [You have selected Chemical Exchange.]


    Chemical Exchange (Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted increases a bodily attribute at the cost of another.


    More information flooded him, but it was subtle. It was as if he¡¯d always known about the skill and how it worked. He could raise his ability to do one physical thing in exchange for his ability to do another.


    For instance, he could increase the distance and precision of his eyesight in exchange for his ability to walk. But once the skill ended, he would have to pay it back.


    He could either do so intentionally, or hold off until his body forced him. Which meant he could be reading and suddenly realize he really, really needed glasses. Or, depending on how much the exchange was, he could simply go blind.


    It wasn¡¯t necessarily so damning. It wasn¡¯t like the blindness would last forever, just for a while, until his body comes to an agreement that the exchange was acceptable.


    Now he just needed to activate the skill and make the exchange he needed.


    Delano looked up from Eroms. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Helping.¡± Melmarc¡¯s hands were moving, fingers interlacing, making alien signs.


    When he completed a series of signs he knew nothing about but somehow knew what the effects would be, a new notification popped up.


    [Skill Chemical Exchange is in effect.]


    [Strength will increase by +1 every second in exchange for Proprioception for five minutes.]


    [Time remaining: 00:04:59.]


    Melmarc had no idea what proprioception was. Actually, he did, he just couldn¡¯t remember the specifics right now. All he knew was that he was suddenly stronger than he used to be, and it was all he needed.


    ¡°D, go up the stairs,¡± he said, moving around Eroms and grabbing him from under the arms. ¡°I¡¯m right behind you.¡±


    Delano hesitated, then started moving when Melmarc succeeded in lifting Eroms off the stairs.


    It¡¯s like he weighs a ton.


    With Delano out of harm¡¯s way, Melmarc focused his entire attention on pulling Eroms up the stairs. With each step he took, Eroms let out a pained groan.


    He noticed not much of his friend¡¯s blood was flowing anymore and panicked. If Eroms was running out of blood, it wasn¡¯t a good sign.


    He needed to hurry. He refused to go through all this just to still end up losing him. His phone vibrated in his pocket again and he ignored it.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Right now what he needed was to get behind cover.


    Eroms¡¯ groans were reducing the higher up the stairs they went. He was also beginning to weigh less. Melmarc attributed the latter to the effects of [Chemical Exchange]. For the former, he had no idea.


    He just hoped it wasn¡¯t a terrible sign.


    It took him a while but he finally pulled Eroms to safety.


    Melmarc dragged Eroms behind a wall and released him gently, then fell back on his butt. He would¡¯ve liked to say he was tired but he wasn¡¯t. The action had been growing easier the higher they went up the stairs.


    Delano rushed over to Eroms. He took off his shirt, bundled it up, and shoved it against the injury. There was less blood now, but he still applied pressure, praying and begging.


    Eroms was less pale now, but Melmarc still worried. Now that they were safe, he could risk the second part.


    He pulled out his phone, went to his dial pad, and his phone started ringing again. It displayed Ark¡¯s name in full effect with a picture of Ark holding up Spitfire in their living room.


    His brother had changed his contact picture for what he called dramatic effect.


    Melmarc answered immediately. ¡°I¡¯ll call you back. Yes, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    The words tumbled out of his lips and he cut the call before Ark or anyone else could respond.


    He dialed 911 and his screen cracked on the third number. His strength was still rising, and now he didn¡¯t know his own strength.


    Luckily, the crack was superficial. It halted none of the phone¡¯s functions.


    When he tapped the call sign, he did so gently.


    Then he placed his phone to his ear.


    Delano looked up from Eroms. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Calling 911.¡±


    Delano paused. ¡°Oh.¡±


    He effectively went back to applying pressure, and Melmarc noticed color returning to Eroms¡¯ face.


    At the bottom of the stairs, evidently out of sight, he could still hear Joshua taunting Vlad as they exchanged blows. Each crack of his blood whip through the air was loud, louder when it made contact with Vlad.


    How the hell is nobody hearing this upstairs?


    On the phone, Melmarc was on call with an automated voice. It was feminine, prerecorded by a lady with a nice voice.


    [¡­If you¡¯d like to report an incident of a violent nature, please press 1. If you¡¯d like to request an ambulance for a medical emergency, please press 2. If you would like to report a Gifted related incident, please press 3¡­]


    Melmarc knew he didn¡¯t have to wait for the voice to give him all the options. If he knew what option he was looking for, all he needed to do was dial the number.


    But that was where the problem was. He¡¯d never had to dial 911 in his life. With the options called out so far he didn¡¯t know if he needed an ambulance or needed help with a Gifted related incident.


    Priorities, he thought as he carefully chose number 2.


    The line connected almost immediately, and he let out a sigh of relief. He¡¯d heard stories of how he could end up waiting a while before getting a representative.


    ¡°Hi, my name is Nancy. How can I help you?¡±


    Nancy had one of those lovely customer service voices that made you feel bad if you walked into the building intending on being aggressive because you were angry. It was a little soothing.


    In this situation, it didn¡¯t soothe Melmarc in anyway.


    ¡°Hi, my name is Melmarc Lockwood and we need an ambulance to the Vlad mansion, at number 12 Davenport street,¡± he said in a hurry. ¡°My friends and I were just attacked by a Gifted that can use blood as a whip and my friend is bleeding out. He¡¯s sixteen, six foot three and weighs¡­¡±


    He looked at Delano.


    ¡°Two hundred and twenty pounds,¡± Delano supplied.


    ¡°He weighs two hundred and twenty pounds,¡± Melmarc finished. ¡°He was stabbed in the chest four minutes ago and I think he¡¯s losing blood, please hurry.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t sure how much of the information was useful. In fact, he was sure most of the information was useless. But it was better they have too much information than not enough information.


    Also¡­ had he just dragged over two hundred pounds up a flight of stairs. Just how much strength did he have now?


    ¡°An ambulance has been dispatched to you,¡± Nancy said over the phone. ¡°The police have also been contacted, and Gifted agents have been dispatched to your location. Do you know what rank this Gifted is?¡±


    That was a weird question to be asking since a lot of people wouldn¡¯t have the answer, but Melmarc understood it. The lady was trying to get as much information as she could.


    ¡°He¡¯s a B-rank Blood Master.¡±


    It made sense that she wanted to know. Maybe they were rationing their manpower. Not many Gifted went into law enforcement, so there was a limited number of Gifted in the police department.


    It would be a disadvantage to them if they dispatched a C-rank detective to a scene where there was a B-rank criminal. All it would do was dwindle their current number of employed Gifted. And sending a B-rank to a scene with a D-rank criminal could be seen as a waste of manpower.


    The B-rank might be needed somewhere else.


    ¡°This is noted,¡± Nancy said. ¡°Help is on the way. Would you like me to stay on the line with you until they get there?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know.


    He didn¡¯t think there was anything she could do for him if she remained on the line. So he assumed it was an offer more for emotional support.


    He appreciated it, and would probably need it, especially if help didn¡¯t get here in time for Eroms. But he wasn¡¯t that selfish, there could be other people trying to dial 911 right now, and they would need all the free lines they could get.


    ¡°How long before the ambulance and police get here?¡± he asked instead.


    There was a moment of silence.


    Then she answered. ¡°ETA is five minutes.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to thank her when she spoke again.


    ¡°My apologies. Estimated time of arrival is five minutes.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. And¡­ you don¡¯t have to stay on the line. I can¡¯t keep you that long.¡±


    There was another moment of silence. It felt hesitant. Then Nancy spoke again.


    ¡°Just hang in there, Melmarc. You¡¯ve got this.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what to say to that. It was reassuring, but he still didn¡¯t know how to respond. And the line still hadn¡¯t gone dead.


    Maybe she doesn¡¯t want to end the call. Or maybe they are not allowed to be the ones to end the call.


    He didn¡¯t know which one it was. For all he knew it could be both. But he couldn¡¯t keep her here, so he did what he hoped normal people did.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, then ended the call.


    ¡°How long?¡± Delano asked.


    Melmarc was dialing a new number. ¡°Five minutes.¡±


    He could feel his strength still rising so he needed to be careful not to break his phone.


    Delano didn¡¯t look assured by his answer. ¡°Five minutes is too long.¡±


    A normal person would think he was complaining, but Melmarc had known Delano long enough to know he wasn¡¯t complaining. He was panicking.


    ¡°Five minutes will be over before you know it. And they are meant to give you numbers on the high side, so five minutes is really just like three minutes.¡±


    Melmarc was fairly certain he was wrong. After all, he¡¯d just made it up on the spot. His mind was elsewhere, however. He was thinking of how to stop his strength from constantly growing.


    But he knew all there was to know about the skill [Chemical Exchange] at its current mastery level. There was no stopping the exchange until the time period ran out. It hadn¡¯t been long but he could already pull someone as large as Eroms up a flight of stairs. Just how much would he be able to do by the time the timer ran out.


    And how weak will I be when it¡¯s time for the exchange?


    His phone slipped from his grasp suddenly. It wasn¡¯t because of the blood he¡¯d gotten on it. It had simply fallen.


    It seemed he¡¯d lost a lot in the exchange. But he was glad it had taken this long before it happened. He couldn¡¯t imagine dropping Eroms while he was pulling him up the stairs.


    Joshua let out a guttural roar from downstairs. It was more pain than anger, and Melmarc picked Eroms from under the arms and pulled him some more.


    There was no harm in getting as much space between them as he could.


    ¡°Do you think the others have escaped?¡± Delano asked, following Melmarc.


    Melmarc dropped Eroms again after a while and Delano went back to applying pressure to their friend¡¯s injury.


    At first, Melmarc thought Delano was talking about their classmates, which was odd since their classmates weren¡¯t yet aware of what was happening. Then he realized who he was talking about.


    ¡°I hope so.¡± He placed his phone on the ground and dialed the remaining digits of who he wanted to call. ¡°I¡¯m sure Vlad can win if they escape. And Joshua did say they could escape at any time.¡±


    While Delano kept his hands over Eroms¡¯ wound, Melmarc noticed they hadn¡¯t left a trail of blood behind them.


    Color had returned fully to Eroms¡¯ face and he wasn¡¯t bleeding anymore.


    ¡°Eroms,¡± Melmarc called.


    Delano shot him a frown. ¡°Don¡¯t make him talk. He needs to save up his strength.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that.¡± Melmarc paused before he hit the dial button on his phone. ¡°He¡¯s not bleeding anymore. And he¡¯s not pale.¡±


    Delano paused as well. He lifted his hands from the injury and looked at it.


    He looked back at Melmarc. ¡°There¡¯s no injury.¡±


    Melmarc let out a sigh. He¡¯d suspected one of the buffs was from Eroms but hadn¡¯t been sure of which one it could be. He hadn¡¯t wanted to hope too much.


    He let out a relieved sigh. ¡°He¡¯s okay. He¡¯s okay.¡±


    He didn¡¯t know just how much tension he¡¯d been carrying from the fear of losing his friend. It surprised him now to know it was most of it, far more than the fear of being killed by Joshua.


    Eroms drew in a slow breath.


    Delano and Melmarc turned to him.


    His mouth moved tiredly, trying to say something.


    Delano leaned in. ¡°What¡¯s it, E? Do you need something? Does it hurt?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    Eroms smacked his lips and tried again.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure where he was mentally, but there was a part of him that suspected he¡¯d lose his mind if Eroms said he was hungry.


    ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Delano assured him, hope in his voice.


    ¡°I weigh two hundred and eighteen pounds.¡±


    The backdrop of another painful cry from downstairs was the only sound present in the silence that settled between the three of them, then another crack of a whip through the air.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what the appropriate response to Eroms was. But he was satisfied with his relief.


    Delano wasn¡¯t as speechless as him.


    ¡°Dude,¡± he chuckled and sobbed at the same time. ¡°You weigh two twenty-eight. I was just being nice.¡±


    ¡°Two, eighteen,¡± Eroms croaked out.


    ¡°Yea, right.¡± Delano raised his hand to pat him, then stopped. ¡°Let¡¯s just agree to disagree.¡±


    Then he hugged him gently.


    ¡°It¡¯s good to have you back.¡±


    They remained like that for a moment, Delano hugging Eroms while he remained lying on the ground. Then Delano released him a bit awkwardly and turned to Melmarc.


    ¡°Is there a reason we didn¡¯t drag him all the way back to the room?¡±


    There was, but it sounded stupid to say it. So Melmarc kept it to himself.


    Delano¡¯s jaw dropped in realization. ¡°You didn¡¯t want to go far in case there was something you could do to help? That makes no sense.¡±


    Melmarc thought it made a little sense. With [Chemical Exchange] he could help somehow. He didn¡¯t know how, but he just felt like something could come up.


    With his lack of proprioception, it wouldn¡¯t be much. But it could be something.


    Rather than defend himself or explain, he looked down at the number on his phone and clicked the call button gently.


    The call didn¡¯t even get the chance to ring before it was picked.


    Ark¡¯s voice came through almost immediately.


    ¡°Mel! Mel! Are you alright?¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    Joshua panted, staring at the opponents in front of him.


    Vlad stood straight, even if pale. On both sides of him Anais and Tepes stood ready. Tepes looked ever the part of a butler despite how torn his suit was. And Anais just looked like something picked off the street.


    Vlad could dress her up all he wanted, but it wouldn¡¯t make her any more refined.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to go this way,¡± he muttered.


    Anais had the gall to snort.


    ¡°You thought you¡¯d just walk in and walk out?¡± she asked. ¡°Does your new skill affect the mind?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a new skill. He¡¯d had it for two years now. It was how he¡¯d evaded Vlad all these years. But he wasn¡¯t going to correct her. The powerful did not explain to the inferior.


    He looked to Tepes and hoped.


    He¡¯d held out in his fight against Vlad. And while Tepes and Anais had pushed him a little, it hadn¡¯t been anything serious. But [Blood Prison] had taken more mana to hold them than he¡¯d thought.


    Another factor to his defeat¡ªanother miscalculation¡ªhad been Vlad¡¯s intervention.


    He¡¯d known his cousin since they were small. They had played together, grown together. Gotten their Classes together.


    They had remained close despite the differences in their ranks. Even when the government employed Vlad as a Delver, and almost every company had rejected Joshua based on one psych evaluation or the other, they had still remained close.


    Vlad would never hurt him.


    That was then, though. Vlad was different now. He should¡¯ve known he wasn¡¯t the only one that could change.


    ¡°Why?¡± he asked Vlad.


    ¡°Because you don¡¯t de¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not you, bitch!¡± he spat, cutting the maid off. He looked Vlad in the eye. ¡°You were powerful. You swore.¡±


    Vlad¡¯s eyes were a hollow grey. ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°Then what happened? What changed?¡±


    He didn¡¯t like how pathetic he sounded. He¡¯d come here expecting to walk out alive. He¡¯d come here expecting to win.


    To kill his own cousin and walk out alive.


    He didn¡¯t think he was in the right. And he wasn¡¯t coming to some sudden realization that he had come to do the wrong thing.


    Defeat was just playing tricks on him. When Vlad had stepped in to defend the boy¡ªMelmarc¡ªhe had simply assumed Vlad was playing hero. He¡¯d done it a lot in Romania. Jumping at the slightest sign of a Gifted criminal.


    He was protecting the weak.


    Then he¡¯d cornered Joshua, defending only. Until he¡¯d struck him. Maybe he should¡¯ve seen his defeat then, but Joshua wasn¡¯t one to quit.


    He was B-rank now. If he pushed himself, he could¡¯ve been a threat. Vlad was weak from losing too much blood to divining. Joshua was supposed to stand a chance now.


    ¡°¡­So why?¡±


    It was Tepes who answered.


    ¡°Because you harmed the children, Master Joshua.¡±


    Joshua looked up at Tepes from where he was kneeling in a puddle of blood spilled from his canteens. He didn¡¯t have the mana left to even make the pool tremble.


    Vlad had run him into mana exhaustion. Was this the gap between the ranks? Did a B-rank stand no chance against an A-rank?


    ¡°You did this because of the children?¡± Joshua was confused. ¡°You broke a vow to your cousin and your mother because of strangers?¡±


    Vlad opened his mouth to speak, but Tepes spoke before him.


    ¡°If I may, Master Vlad,¡± he said, ever respectful. ¡°The moment you went after the children, Master Joshua, you stopped being the cousin he swore to. Master Vlad always said despite your flaws, you never went after children. And even when you went rogue, you only went after Gifted, each of equal rank as yourself. Master Vlad assumed you only went after those who were not completely defenseless against you. In his own way, he saw that as a sign that you could still be redeemed.¡±


    Joshua stared at Tepes in disbelief.


    He and Vlad had hired the man together when Vlad had started working for the government. Vlad hadn¡¯t wanted a butler. They¡¯d come from a simple life and he¡¯d wanted to live a simple life.


    But Joshua didn¡¯t want simple. He wanted the perks that came with power. In the end, he¡¯d done Tepes¡¯ interview himself, and employed him to his role.


    It was odd to see him standing beside Vlad instead of him.


    Joshua sighed and let his exhaustion take him.


    ¡°Tell me this, Tepes,¡± he said. ¡°Vlad continues to call me Turin, but you¡¯ve been calling me Joshua since I said it was my name. Why?¡±


    ¡°I am your butler, sir.¡± Tepes didn¡¯t even hesitate. ¡°It is my duty to obey my master.¡±


    ¡°I see. And if I told you to get me out of here, how would that work?¡±


    ¡°It would not, sir.¡±


    Joshua chuckled lightly. ¡°At least it was worth the try.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it was, sir.¡±


    Joshua eased himself to the ground, and laid down. Mana exhaustion was a terrible thing. It didn¡¯t even allow him the grace of losing on his feet.


    ¡°At least I¡¯m not going to die today,¡± he said, more to himself.


    ¡°The jury¡¯s still out on that,¡± Anais said, taking a step forward.


    Vlad stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. ¡°My cousin does not die today.¡±


    Joshua would have laughed at the look on the maid¡¯s face if he had the strength to. But Mana exhaustion wasn¡¯t something to be trifled with. It left even S-ranks at the mercy of the weakest of men.


    To his surprise, he was assuaged by the sound of blaring sirens. His cousin might have worked with the government at one time, but he¡¯d never trusted anything to them or their authority. It was the reason he¡¯d done his best to rise to the ranks of a council member in Romania.


    I guess people do change.


    A moment after, Vlad came to kneel beside him. His eyes remained hollow and grey, tired.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    It was a single word but Vlad said it with so much depth. Too much emotion.


    Joshua looked his cousin in the eye, the only family that had held out hope for him since he became a prisoner. He couldn¡¯t see that hope anymore. It hurt more than he thought it would, more than it had hurt when the hope had been there.


    The least he could do was give him the truth.


    ¡°You¡¯re the only A-rank I know who won¡¯t hurt me,¡± he said. ¡°A member of the council let it slip that with my skill, if I could have your blood while it is still alive, I could advance to A-rank.¡±


    Vlad shook his head. ¡°You came for my life over a rumor?¡±


    ¡°Not a rumor, Vlad. I know for a fact that this council member advanced to A-rank in the same way.¡±


    He saw the moment Vlad started sieving through his brain for who the person could possibly be.


    It was unfortunate since he wasn¡¯t going to tell. He knew a lot about the council, but not that much.


    ¡°Visit me in prison, cousin?¡± he asked, hoping.


    Vlad got back up to his feet and turned away.


    He made his way to the stairs, sluggish, as the sirens grew closer. ¡°I promise.¡±


    Those were enough words to rest him. For now, he would allow the council be Vlad''s problem. He wondered what his cousin would do when he found out the council''s plan for this country. What they were looking for, and what they intended to do.


    He closed his eyes to everything. But, unfortunately, life wasn¡¯t so nice as to let him rest with those words.


    A moment later the maid spoke with her annoying voice.


    ¡°That¡¯s far more mercy than he deserves.¡±


    He¡¯d kick her in the teeth if he could. But he could not.

 THIRTY-ONE: August Guest

    Melmarc, Delano and Eroms were still on the stair case when the police arrived.


    There was a rhythmic bang on the door, violent and persistent before someone realized it wasn¡¯t locked, and shoved the door open.


    Melmarc and his friends watched from the spot where they¡¯d been caught initially as the police officers rushed in guns raised.


    At their center was a single man not in uniform. He wore casual clothes and was the only one not in uniform.


    He looked like he was in his late forties and had given too much time to working for the police. Or someone who didn¡¯t think the stress of his job was worth the pay.


    It was odd since he was supposed to be a B-rank. With that single curiosity, Melmarc almost wanted to activate [Knowledge Is Power].


    The world had faded back to normal after eight minutes and, for some reason, it was odd to see the world in its normal form with no indicator or highlights.


    It was nice knowing almost everything he felt was important around him.


    He still had [Chemical Exchange] for a skill even though eight minutes had passed, but its mastery had dwindled into the negative percentage and continued to fall.


    The police officer was talking to Tepes, the butler, while his uniformed colleagues slapped an odd looking pair of cuffs around Joshua¡¯s wrists. Joshua remained lying on the floor so three officers had been needed to move him.


    The police officer caught Melmarc¡¯s eyes while he was talking to Tepes and turned to him.


    ¡°Were you kids the ones that called us?¡± he called out.


    Tepes looked behind him and found them. His old face gave no expression.


    ¡°It¡¯s safe now.¡± The police officer in casual clothes gestured for them to approach. ¡°The bad man¡¯s gone.¡±


    ¡°He knows we¡¯re not eight, right?¡± Delano asked.


    Eroms shrugged. ¡°You look eight.¡±


    His shirt was soaked in his own blood but he was fine now. There was no injury, and he didn¡¯t seem tired. But he¡¯d complained about being hungry at least three times since the police had shown up.


    ¡°I¡¯m five, seven,¡± Delano said. ¡°Show me an eight-year-old that¡¯s five, seven, and tell me whose giant baby that is.¡±


    ¡°Five, seven?¡± Eroms looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. ¡°You look smaller.¡±


    Delano reached out to him in a choking gesture. ¡°I¡¯d kill you if I hadn¡¯t almost watched you die.¡±


    Eroms nodded sagely, then stood up. ¡°How about now?¡±


    With the height difference, choking Eroms would be a challenge for Delano.


    Delano shook his head. ¡°Remind me why we hang with him, again, Marc.¡±


    Melmarc was standing, too, waiting for them to finish talking before they went to meet the detective.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, D. These days I¡¯m with him for the free food.¡±


    The detective continued to watch them along with the butler. Melmarc could tell that they were slowly growing impatient. He couldn¡¯t blame the detective. To him they must¡¯ve looked like they were ignoring him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, D,¡± he said, offering a still squatting Delano his hand. ¡°At this rate it looks like we¡¯re ignoring them.¡±


    Delano took his hand and let him pull him up. ¡°Marc, the dude called us eight. We are ignoring them.¡±


    ¡°He told us the bad man¡¯s gone. You called us eight.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ I did, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    The rest of the house remained oblivious and in the comforts of their rooms upstairs while the police spoke with them.


    They took their statements, told them of the situation, and complimented their bravery. Melmarc and his friends recounted the events to the best of their knowledge as the detective, who introduced himself as Fajana, asked simple questions.


    There were questions for Tepes as well. But when Fajana had made enquiries to speak with the owner of the house, Tepes had politely refused.


    ¡°Mr. Alexandra is currently busy with more important tasks.¡±


    Vlad and the maid, Anais, had made their exit even before Melmarc and his friends had returned to watching the events of the police''s arrival unfold. By the time the police had stormed into the house, they were nowhere to be found.


    The butler had been all the welcome party they¡¯d gotten. Him and Joshua in a pool of blood.


    The entire process took roughly twenty minutes. Their statements were taken along with pictures of the scene. Which seemed unimportant to Melmarc since there were no mysteries to the crime.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he bought it,¡± Delano said when the hallway was empty again, the police gone, with Joshua in their custody.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have bought it either,¡± Melmarc agreed. ¡°Why did we say Eroms tripped and fell in a puddle of blood while trying to escape from Joshua?¡±


    ¡°Because I tripped and fell in a pool of blood while escaping from the bad guy.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but be impressed by the commitment Eroms had given to the story.


    ¡°When you decided to be the one to talk I had a feeling you wouldn¡¯t get your story straight.¡± Delano was fingering the hole in Eroms shirt where he¡¯d been stabbed. ¡°Anyway, it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. ¡°At least he believed the part where I told him we all had to drag him up while Tepes held Joshua back.¡±


    Delano laughed. ¡°He didn¡¯t believe that, too.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°It made sense. The strong Basher held back the Blood master while we dragged our friend back to safety. Makes a lot of sense to me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that because it was the part of the story that you came up with. I swear, I¡¯m appalled that you¡¯re my friends and you can¡¯t even tell a proper lie. Have you not gained anything from my glorious presence?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head with a smile. ¡°Alright, then. Tell me where the error was.¡±


    Delano didn¡¯t get to answer.


    ¡°It was the rank.¡±


    They turned to the voice and found Tepes approaching them after taking care of a few broken vases. Even in his tattered suit, he looked ever the part of some royalty¡¯s butler.


    ¡°No Gifted detective deserving of his pay would believe that a C-rank Basher held back a B-rank Blood Master long enough for you to drag your friend up the stairs.¡±


    ¡°There were two of us,¡± Melmarc tried, but there was no heart in his rebuttal.


    ¡°And your friend weighs, what? Two, twenty?¡±


    Delano chuckled, and Eroms muttered something about it being the wrong weight.


    ¡°I¡¯m also surprised you guys could drag him up the stairs,¡± Tepes continued. ¡°But your friend is correct. There were too many inconsistencies with your stories. And it is never a good idea to lie to the police, even if you aren¡¯t the culprit.¡±


    Melmarc and Eroms nodded, but Delano had more to say.


    ¡°You said no one would believe a C-rank Basher could hold back a B-rank Blood Master. How did he know your rank?¡±


    ¡°I work here. When I came to this country I registered my Class and rank.¡±


    ¡°But you could have gotten stronger since the time you came.¡±


    Tepes nodded. ¡°But working for someone like Mr. Alexander puts you in the spotlight of the police. We update our ranks every month.¡±


    ¡°Seems controlling,¡± Melmarc mused. ¡°What happens if you miss a month?¡±


    ¡°If we don¡¯t go to them, then they will come to us.¡±


    Seems very controlling.


    ¡°If I may,¡± Tepes continued. ¡°While my colleague and I were trapped, what happened?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to answer.


    ¡°Your boss whooped the bad guy¡¯s ass,¡± Delano said easily.


    ¡°Maybe he did, but here you are, three kids, fully aware of my class even though no one has told you.¡±


    Delano smirked. ¡°Dude, you work for Vlad Alexandra, the rumored unconfirmed Vampire class. Almost all his employees from his time in Romania have rumors about them.¡±


    He really is good at lying, Melmarc noted.


    ¡°You¡¯re either a Basher or a Juggernaut,¡± Delano continued. ¡°From the way you fought, Basher was the best bet. Your colleague in the maid outfit¡¯s probably some Agility type. I¡¯ll put my money on something combat based, maybe Martial Master or Human Weapon, maybe even a Weaver.¡±


    ¡°That is quite the specificity.¡±


    Delano scoffed. ¡°Not really. If she wants to keep her secret, tell her to stop weaving hand signs all over the place.¡±


    Melmarc could clearly remember telling Delano Tepes and Anais¡¯ classes and ranks while they were waiting for the police in case they needed to help.


    Tepes wasn¡¯t convinced, but he was being a good sport. ¡°And our guest¡¯s rank? The good detective said they were told his rank before their arrival.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re sixteen not dumb.¡± Delano was slowly switching into his pompous persona. ¡°Everyone knows your boss is an A-rank and, no offense, but your guest was wiping the floor with you two. But when it got to your boss, he couldn¡¯t do squat. You didn¡¯t fight like a D-rank so C-rank was the best bet. Which meant your guest must¡¯ve been a B-rank or a really useless A.¡±


    Tepes was smiling now. He looked impressed. It was almost as if he knew everything was a lie but was merely curious as to how far Delano could spin a tale.


    ¡°Would you indulge me one more question?¡± he asked, politely.


    Delano shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re your guests.¡±


    ¡°When I and my colleague were trapped, something happened. It was like a friend borrowing ten dollars he wasn¡¯t going to give back.¡±


    Melmarc winced. Was that how it felt for them?


    He didn¡¯t like the description. No one would want to partner up with him if every time he used his skill they felt like they were being stolen from.


    ¡°Can¡¯t help you with that,¡± Delano answered.


    Tepes nodded, more impressed than believing. ¡°Perhaps it was the bubble. It could¡¯ve had draining effects.¡±


    Delano shrugged.


    ¡°That said.¡± Tepes walked up to the door and turned the lock. ¡°I would suggest that you boys return to your room. Master Vlad would be happy if you were to inform your colleagues and teachers of none of these. If rumors spread, we may no longer be able to hosts students on trips anymore.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Melmarc answered before Delano could. ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad.¡±


    Tepes looked from him to Eroms bloody shirt. ¡°The hole in your friend¡¯s shirt says otherwise. But I thank you for your understanding. Do have a nice rest of your stay.¡±


    With that, he offered them one of the most elderly smiles they had ever seen and made his way up the stairs.


    ¡°He knew you were lying,¡± Melmarc told Delano when he was gone.


    They were walking back up the stairs, making their way to their room.


    ¡°Of course he did. Anyone who was around for the fight would know I was lying.¡± He spared Eroms a glance them patted him on the arm, as if reassuring himself that their friend was really there. ¡°Besides, we already knew too much.¡±


    ¡°Then why continue?¡±


    ¡°Because I was being a good sport.¡± Delano shrugged. ¡°Also, he knew I was lying, but wasn¡¯t sure what specifically I was lying about. It¡¯s like when you know your crush has a boyfriend but you don¡¯t know who he is.¡±


    He eyed Melmarc expectantly.


    ¡°Again, D. I have no idea if my sister is even in a relationship.¡±


    ¡°You could ask.¡±


    ¡°You were on the phone with her not long ago. You could¡¯ve asked.¡±


    Delano returned his eyes to the front. ¡°Touch¨¦.¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    They returned home the next day.


    Vlad had a few words to say as he wished them and their classmates a safe trip. He had trinkets and souvenirs for each student and teacher.


    Melmarc, Delano, and Eroms were handed small envelopes along with theirs. Vlad had more color in his face unlike his ghostly paleness he had displayed the night before, so Melmarc thought that was a good thing.


    Delano joked about how he must¡¯ve had a good meal after the whole fiasco.


    Melmarc gave himself a mental note to inform Delano of Vlad''s class when they were in a more private place. He would¡¯ve done it when they headed back to their room, but they¡¯d basically fallen asleep the moment their heads had touched their pillows.


    The trip back was anything but quiet. Arrangements were a mess, and Melmarc ended up sitting next to a girl in his class he knew very little about.


    He could remember her name, and that she¡¯d gotten in a fight over someone making fun of her mum for some reason or the other once. But that was as far as he could remember.


    It reminded him that his social skills needed a lot of work.


    When the bus dropped them at school with some of their parents waiting to pick them up, Delano made a quick call to his parents. He wanted to know if he could have a sleepover at Melmarc¡¯s place but the response was simple.


    ¡°Sorry, hun. But it¡¯s a school night,¡± his mother had said. ¡°You know you can¡¯t have sleepovers on a school night.¡±


    Delano groaned and stared at the sky in exasperation.


    ¡°What kind of school hosts a school trip that ends on the last day of the break?¡±


    ¡°Our school.¡± Melmarc patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. ¡°Besides, we can always meet up after classes tomorrow for the whole fiasco.¡±


    The whole point of trying to have a sleepover was so that they could try out Melmarc¡¯s skills, see how far it could go, find its limits. After all, the only thing more disliked than low rank Gifted were Gifted who didn¡¯t know how to use their skills


    Unless they were S-ranks. No one hated S-ranks.


    ¡°Are you even still going to come to school?¡± Delano asked after a while. ¡°Are the both of you even going to come?¡±


    It was the first time he was addressing the fact that Eroms was a Gifted. Melmarc hadn¡¯t told him, and he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d needed to. The simple fact that Eroms had survived being stabbed in the chest was all the telling that needed to happen.


    But Delano was handling it well, and in strides.


    Now that he¡¯d said it, Melmarc realized he hadn¡¯t really thought about it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll still be coming to class,¡± Eroms said easily.


    ¡°What are you, like¡ª¡±Delano looked from side to side and lowered his voice¡°¡ªlike a D-rank or something.¡±


    I guess he didn¡¯t know.


    Eroms shook his head. ¡°My parents want to keep it a secret until they are sure.¡±


    ¡°Sure?¡± The confusion was clear in Delano¡¯s voice. ¡°Sure about what? This isn¡¯t like some sickness where you have to take a test or something. Trust me, they¡¯re sure. You¡¯re sure. Vlad is sure.¡±


    ¡°Sure about what, exactly?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°No idea,¡± Eroms answered. ¡°They just said they wanted to be sure.¡±


    Delano sighed. ¡°What of you, Marc?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Haven¡¯t really thought of it. But I¡¯ll come tomorrow.¡±


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Delano¡¯s parents came for Eroms and Delano. They offered Melmarc a ride but he knew Ninra was coming to pick him so he declined.


    He hadn¡¯t wanted her to come to school and wait until they arrived so he¡¯d called her when they were almost there, so that she¡¯d arrive with him or he¡¯d have to be the one waiting.


    When she picked him up, the ride back home was quiet.


    She asked a few simple questions like what happened after the call, and how did the entire thing end.


    He answered in the quickest summary. The whole story would wait until they got home.


    When they got home, Ark had far too many questions while uncle Dorthna only asked if he¡¯d had to use any of his skills.


    He had not looked happy about the answer.


    Before turning in for the night, he narrated the entire story of what had happened. Ark kept interrupting with questions, which wasn¡¯t so bad since it was basically how he was when he listened to stories.


    Melmarc kept nothing out of the story, and Ninra had grimaced heavily at the part where Eroms was stabbed in the chest. After much consideration, he told them Eroms was Gifted but said nothing on the specifics.


    They were his family, but it still remained Eroms¡¯ secret to tell.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    The first day of the new term was simple enough, if a little boring. But Melmarc attributed the boredom to how much of a hurry he was in to get back home.


    Being the first day, there wasn¡¯t much in the way of teaching. All the teachers wanted to ask about the holidays and talk about what the term held in store for them.


    It was simple and it was quick.


    Delano and Eroms rushed into his class even before the final bell rang and all but dragged him out.


    Delano¡¯s lacking patience showed in the fact that he¡¯d all but begged them to take the bus home.


    ¡°But you hate the bus,¡± Melmarc commented.


    ¡°Yes, I do. But sometimes we do what we must with what we¡¯re given.¡±


    When they got to Melmarc¡¯s place, Dorthna and Ark were dressed and ready to go.


    They weren¡¯t going to test Melmarc¡¯s skills in the house or even out back. For that, they needed somewhere more suiting, somewhere less in the open.


    For that, Dorthna drove them to the gym where they¡¯d taken Ark. Unlike their time with Ark, Ninra had opted to follow.


    ¡°When do you have to get back home?¡± Dorthna asked as they walked into the gym.


    Ark shut the door behind them and turned the lock.


    ¡°Ten, Mr. Dorthna,¡± Delano answered before turning to Melmarc. ¡°Did you check your envelope yet?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    Delano looked expectant. ¡°What did you get?¡±


    ¡°A letter of recommendation ¡®to whom it may concern.¡¯¡±


    Delano deflated. ¡°E and I got the same thing. I think they couldn¡¯t find out how many of us were Gifted so they just gave all of us.¡±


    As disappointed as Delano looked, a letter of recommendation from an A-rank Gifted was a big deal for people like them. Especially from a former Delver like Vlad.


    There were Delver schools that only accepted students based on recommendations. It didn¡¯t matter how great your grades were or how much promise you showed, if you didn¡¯t have one, you didn¡¯t get in.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t need one, though. He was the child of two Gifted. They were all the recommendation he needed to get into schools like that.


    ¡°So did you find out about the school thing?¡± Delano asked as they drew closer to the center of the building. ¡°Are you still coming?¡±


    As a matter of fact, he did.


    ¡°Yea¡­¡± He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. ¡°Today¡¯s my last day.¡±


    ¡°Yea. Bummer. I kinda suspected when I didn¡¯t see Ark in school today. What¡¯s even up with that? He used to skip classes from what I¡¯ve heard but I¡¯ve never seen him skip school entirely.¡±


    ¡°How did you know he skipped school?¡±


    ¡°Students like to talk.¡± Delano looked around the empty space. ¡°This is quite large, isn¡¯t it? And the walls look funny. Anyway, is Ark skipping school going to be a thing now that you aren¡¯t going to be around to snitch on him?¡±


    Melmarc never snitched on Ark when he skipped classes. It was always just a class or two, and no one ever asked him about it.


    With Ark being a Gifted now, he had been more than happy to drop out of regular school. He was preparing himself for his official registration as a Gifted, then his official application to be a Delver.


    The process was simple. The government would confirm his Class, then they would assign him to a Delver of their choosing or a Gifted in an active combat capability for a mentorship program of three weeks.


    During this time, he would be allowed to apply to any Delving schools of his choice. On conclusion of the mentorship program, he would then resume in whichever Delving school granted him admission.


    Melmarc was supposed to follow the same path now that he was a Gifted.


    ¡°Alright, then.¡± Dorthna clapped his hand to draw their attention. ¡°Front and center, Mel.¡±


    Melmarc left Delano to stand in front of his uncle, and Delano pulled out a book and pen from his school bag.


    ¡°You, too, Eroms,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what plans your parents have for you, but you¡¯re friends with Mel so I¡¯d like to know what you can do.¡±


    Melmarc frowned at his uncle.


    ¡°If that¡¯s okay with you,¡± Dorthna added hurriedly.


    Eroms shrugged and joined Melmarc.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Dorthna pointed at Melmarc. ¡°What do you know about your skills so far. You used them once, so what did you get?¡±


    Melmarc gave it some thought before answering. ¡°Knowledge Is Power actually gives a lot of information.¡±


    ¡°How much?¡±


    ¡°Well, I can tell if there¡¯s a dead ant on the floor when I use it.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°It says I can¡¯t be damaged, but I can definitely feel pain.¡± Melmarc rubbed his forehead, remembering how much it hurt when Joshua attacked him. ¡°A lot of pain.¡±


    ¡°No surprise there. Damage and pain are two different things.¡±


    ¡°Oh. And when I use it, I can see a person¡¯s, name, class, and rank.¡± He pointed above his head. ¡°It just floats there with an indicator like a video game. Eroms and Delano were green, so green is friendly. Joshua¡ªthe one that broke in¡ªwas red, so red¡¯s clearly for threats. And I¡¯d say grey is for neutral, neither good nor bad.¡±


    Delano was jotting everything down in his book.


    Dorthna was nodding throughout.


    When Melmarc was done, he said, ¡°Use it.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s why we¡¯re here,¡± Dorthna explained. ¡°Use Knowledge Is Power.¡±


    It felt odd being told to just use his skill on call. It was like being asked to smile when there was really nothing to smile about. But he obeyed, regardless.


    Activating [Knowledge Is Power] was like moving your leg a moment before it fell asleep. It was like a glitch. It came with a momentous pause. But nothing too long.


    A notification flared in front of him.


    [You have used skill Knowledge Is Power.]


    He watched the blast of white like the static of a scrambled channel burst out of him in a dome. It looked a bit computerized now that he took his time to study it.


    Dorthna kept his eye on him as the dome expanded to its max, which didn¡¯t fill out the entire room.


    Then it began its return.


    When it passed through Dorthna, he blinked. It went into Melmarc and he suddenly knew a lot.


    ¡°What did you learn?¡± Dorthna asked.


    ¡°I learned that Eroms is really, really hungry,¡± he answered. ¡°And I mean very hungry. Like starved. He could probably eat a whole horse.¡±


    He also knew where everyone around him was standing, even Delano who was behind him eyeballing the punching bag in the corner.


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°Who else is hungry?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°I guess that should tell you something about the skill,¡± Dorthna commented. ¡°Have you been offered your buffs?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s buffs were in front of him but he wasn¡¯t looking at them yet. When his attention shifted to it, Dorthna cut him short.


    ¡°Ignore them.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Melmarc said, hesitant. He wasn¡¯t sure why he was supposed to ignore them. ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°Use Knowledge Is Power again.¡±


    Melmarc had a few ideas why his uncle wanted him to use the skill again, but he didn¡¯t presume anything.


    He activated the skill again and was surprised at the new notification in front of him.


    [You cannot use Knowledge Is Power at this time.]


    [Cool down: 00:01:39.]


    That was troubling.


    ¡°What did you get?¡± Dorthna asked as Melmarc read the notification.


    ¡°There¡¯s a cool down.¡±


    It looked like the same time frame [Bless Your Kindness] gave for him to choose a buff. Was the cool down the reason he had such a limited time frame to choose a buff or was choosing the buff the reason for the cool down?


    Was he limited to using only one skill at a time?


    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Almost every skill has a cool down period.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Delano said. ¡°Almost every active skill I know of has a cool down period.¡±


    Melmarc was also aware of it. But there were also some that didn¡¯t have cool down periods. For instance, Ark¡¯s skills didn¡¯t have cool down periods but they consumed a boatload of mana. He could spam [Breath of Fire] as much as he wanted as long as he had the mana to support it.


    He¡¯s unranked, so it¡¯s not really surprising that he¡¯s different.


    Dorthna must¡¯ve been counting the seconds, because when the cool down timer ended and Melmarc lost his buff options without having looked at them, he spoke again.


    ¡°Use it again.¡±


    Melmarc complied.


    The skill blasted out of him as it always did, then came back. Was it slower this time?


    ¡°Ignore the buffs,¡± Dorthna said the moment it went through him on its return ¡°What I want you to do when the timer runs out, is use it again. But this time, I need you to keep track of how long it takes.¡±


    Melmarc understood and brought out his phone.


    ¡°Three seconds,¡± Delano said. ¡°Give or take.¡±


    They paused to look at him, and he raised his head from his book.


    ¡°You always look at the air funny after three seconds. I assume that¡¯s because of the buff.¡± He looked at everyone and found them still staring at him. ¡°What did you think I was doing with the book? Playing Sudoku?¡±


    Melmarc had thought he was jotting the skills down but hadn¡¯t been sure. ¡°I felt you¡¯d rather video it.¡±


    ¡°I would, but,¡± he gestured amongst them, ¡°I take it this is all supposed to be hush hush. So I don¡¯t want to leave any evidence behind.¡±


    Dorthna nodded.


    ¡°Smart friend,¡± he said, then turned to Eroms. ¡°Willing to share what skills you have?¡±


    Delano looked expectant.


    Had they not talked about it yet?


    Melmarc had expected that now that Delano knew, they would¡¯ve had long conversations on the subject, Delano peppering Eroms with all the questions he could come up with.


    Delano¡¯s face claimed that wasn¡¯t the case.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got one that makes me very hungry,¡± Eroms answered. ¡°It also makes people want to give me food. It doesn¡¯t say anything else but I¡¯ve noticed everyone just forgets when it happens or acts like it¡¯s normal¡­ except Delano.¡±


    That made sense. It explained why everyone had been giving him food and why no one had said anything. Melmarc remembered when he¡¯d given him his meal at Lulu¡¯s and how he had just dropped the confusion so easily.


    Does the skill have mind manipulation too? And why not Delano?


    Delano turned a new page in his book and scribbled something down. ¡°Is it active or passive?¡±


    ¡°Passive. I can eat as much as I want and store it away.¡±


    Delano looked up from his book. ¡°And the second one?¡±


    ¡°It burns the amount of food I¡¯ve stored up and increases all my physical attributes.¡±


    ¡°Like your ability to heal faster,¡± Melmarc mused.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°A useful combination,¡± Dorthna said.


    For some reason he held an odd level of disinterest in the skills. He sounded only interested in knowing what they were and nothing more.


    ¡°Time to test out how the other skill works, Mel,¡± he said. ¡°Do you have a hold on it?¡±


    Delano flipped back to the previous page.


    Melmarc gave it a thought. ¡°Well there¡¯s the mastery aspect. I think Gifted skills scale to the same mastery somehow, I¡¯m not entirely sure. But normal skills can be higher.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Dorthna asked, curious. ¡°You get buffs for normal skills?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I think I can use normal things a person can do. When I used it at the mansion I got a buff to choose from called videoing. And it was at a hundred percent mastery.¡±


    Ninra chuckled. ¡°I wonder how that would¡¯ve worked.¡±


    Melmarc activated [Knowledge Is Power] again.


    When it came back to him, he felt like he knew too much. His head was also slowly beginning to hurt, and he felt like there was a brick on top of it.


    But he got what he was looking for.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 4.]


    [You have received 4 Potential buffs.]


    [Hunger Of The World](Mastery -100.00%)


    The Gifted stores up an infinite amount of consumed nutrients.


    [Jotting](Mastery 100.00%)


    The human has near horrible penmanship.


    [Artistry](Mastery 49.00%)


    The Human applies facial coloring quite masterfully.


    [???????](Mastery -1000000.00%)


    ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:59.]


    Oh, the cool down for Knowledge Is Power isn¡¯t the same with the selection time.


    They were off by about a minute.


    Melmarc had intended on selecting a buff based off either Delano or Ninra. Instead he was caught with levels of shock.


    He turned to Eroms, mouth opened. ¡°You¡¯ve got a world skill?¡±


    Its description fit Eroms¡¯ constant eating to the letter.


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Delano hurried on to what Melmarc was now beginning to think was Eroms¡¯ page of the book and scribbled quickly. Done, he looked up. ¡°What?!¡±


    Eroms shrugged. ¡°All it does is help me eat.¡±


    Dorthna made a thoughtful sound. ¡°And you have a skill that makes people give you food, and one that allows you give yourself a physical buff based on how much food you have.¡±


    He¡¯s like a walking tank as long as he has something to eat.


    ¡°How much of an increase are we talking here?¡± Ark asked, speaking finally from where he kept beating up a defenseless punching bag.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Eroms answered.


    ¡°That much is understandable,¡± Dorthna said.


    He seemed to think for a moment then held his hand out. ¡°Shake my hand.¡±


    Eroms obeyed. He was a large boy, as large as Dorthna, maybe a little taller, so their hands were evenly matched in size.


    Dorthna adjusted his grip for better comfort. ¡°Now use your skill, and squeeze.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know when Eroms activated his skill. There was no wobble in the flow of mana because there was no flow of mana to feel. There was no distortion in the air, no visual representation. Nothing to judge by.


    That was the thing about the Gifted. You only knew they were using their skills if the skill had an effect that could be felt or seen. For instance, [Knowledge Is Power] was only felt by people when it was returning to him.


    Eroms started pressing down on his uncle¡¯s hand, his grip tightening. Melmarc said nothing. Uncle Dorthna¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, and Ark abandoned his instruction to beat up the punching bag to come and take a look.


    After a moment, Eroms started to exert dominance in the handshake. Delano started jotting down quickly in his book.


    ¡°That¡¯s interesting,¡± Dorthna mused, even as his hand was slowly beginning to be crushed. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about me. Just keep increasing your use. Right now I¡¯d believe anybody that thinks you¡¯re an S-class Basher, or even a Juggernaut.¡±


    Well, you don¡¯t look like you¡¯re shaking hands with one, Melmarc thought.


    All Melmarc and his siblings knew about uncle Dorthna was that he was a retired Delver. But their parents never told them his class or rank.


    Not for the first time, he wondered what they were. Was it a Strength type? If yes, what was the rank?


    ¡°You can let go now,¡± Dorthna told Eroms.


    When Eroms released the handshake, Dorthna didn¡¯t even bother looking at his hand. He simply went back to their initial conversation.


    He moved his attention back to Melmarc. ¡°Is the cool down over?¡±


    Melmarc had completely forgotten about his buffs. When he went to check on them, they had expired. Out of curiosity he pulled his own information.


    It was as easy as thinking.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Chemical Exchange (Mastery -50.14%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Status: August Guest +0.5 to all stats, Intruder -0.5 to all stats.


    Earlier in the day [Chemical Exchange] had a negative twenty-five percent mastery, now the negative percent had doubled. He knew the mastery reduced as time went by. But now he had a strong feeling the reduction increased significantly whenever he used [Knowledge Is Power].


    He looked at his uncle. ¡°It¡¯s gone. Should I use it again?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The weight he was feeling was still there, bearing down on his head. It weighed him down like a physical thing.


    He activated [Knowledge Is Power] again.


    When it came back to him, he felt a little dizzy.


    Is this mana fatigue? He wondered.


    People always talked about it as if it was like getting tired after a particularly rough and active sport. But it didn¡¯t feel that way. It felt more like having countless weights bearing down on you. Like his head was getting heavier.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 5.]


    [You have received 5 Potential buffs.]


    [Gluttony](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted draws on the nutrients stored over time to increase physical attributes.


    [Jotting](Mastery 100.00%)


    The human has near horrible penmanship.


    [Artistry](Mastery 49.00%)


    The Human applies facial coloring quite masterfully.


    [???????](Mastery -1000000.00%)


    ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????


    [Will of Hades](Mastery -20.02%)


    The Gifted possesses a slight resistance to fire.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:59.]


    ¡°I¡¯ve got the buffs,¡± he informed uncle Dorthna.


    ¡°What are they?¡±


    Melmarc called each one out. As he did, Dorthna¡¯s attention moved from one individual in the room to another.


    Delano¡¯s head perked up when Melmarc read the description of [Jotting].


    ¡°I find that very offensive. My handwriting¡¯s not that bad.¡±


    Eroms shook his head. ¡°Strong disagree. You failed handwriting three times when we were small. You only managed a passing mark, and your mom still thinks it¡¯s because our teacher was being generous.¡±


    Delano frowned but said nothing else. He returned to jotting things down.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the skill with the question marks,¡± Dorthna told Melmarc, his voice a little disappointed. ¡°I¡¯m guessing its simply a skill you can¡¯t use.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. The skill also looked greyed out. It was like something he couldn¡¯t select. But he¡¯d been able to read and probably pick Vlad¡¯s skill, even though he was an A-rank.


    Did that mean he couldn¡¯t use skills higher than A-rank? He doubted that was the case.


    Eroms is an S-rank and I can see his skills just fine. Maybe even use them.


    ¡°You should pick one before the timer ends,¡± Dorthna added.


    Melmarc chose.


    [Would you like to use Will of Hades? You will not be able to renege on this decision?]


    [Yes/No.]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    [You have selected Will of Hades.]


    Will of Hades (Mastery -20.02%)


    The Gifted possesses a slight resistance to fire.


    The first thing he noticed was that the weight on his head lightened.


    ¡°I feel lighter,¡± he said.


    ¡°Faster?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Not really. Each time I used Knowledge Is Power I kept feeling heavier, like someone was putting a heavy cowboy¡¯s hat on my head each time. I thought it was probably mana fatigue. But I feel lighter now.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s probably because you weren¡¯t activating your support skill whenever you used it.¡± Delano started writing again. ¡°I heard some skills have that effect if you don¡¯t use the support skill.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the synergy,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°I¡¯m thinking your first skill brings back too much information for your mind, and your mind converts the information to something you can use which are the buffs with your other skill.¡±


    That makes sense.


    ¡°So when I used it twice without using Bless Your Kindness I was gathering too much information, and it started weighing me down?¡±


    ¡°Correct. That would explain why you got points in mind.¡±


    ¡°But I have two points in mind. I thought that was supposed to help somehow.¡±


    Ninra snorted. ¡°Imagine if you didn¡¯t have plus two in mind.¡±


    ¡°Your head would¡¯ve popped like a balloon.¡± Delano¡¯s writing paused. ¡°Not a good sight to think about.¡±


    Does that mean I always have to use [Bless Your Kindness] all the time?


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how that made him feel.


    What if I want to keep the buff I already have?


    The draw-backs to his skills were showing themselves the more he used them.


    ¡°Which one did you pick?¡± Ninra asked.


    ¡°Will of Hades.¡±


    ¡°Want to try it out?¡± Ark asked.


    Delano paused. He raised his head from his book, confused. Pointing with his pen, he counted how many people were in the room.


    Then he frowned.


    ¡°Apart from you, there are five of us, Mel.¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    Ark was already stretching as if testing out [Will of Hades] was going to be a physical thing.


    ¡°But you got offered three Gifted skills.¡± Delano was still frowning.


    Uncle Dorthna was nice enough to wait patiently for him to finish.


    ¡°That means¡­¡± Delano¡¯s brows furrowed and his eyes snapped to Ark. ¡°You¡¯re Gifted?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°Didn¡¯t Mel tell you?¡±


    ¡°Mel didn¡¯t tell me anything,¡± he said in accusation. ¡°And what the hell? My two friends are Gifted and so is one¡¯s older brother. And then there¡¯s me with a terrible handwriting. What am I? A potato?¡±


    Melmarc looked down and away. It wasn¡¯t like Ark being Gifted was his secret to tell, even though he hadn¡¯t really known if it was a secret.


    Ark took one look at him and laughed.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that big a deal, Delano.¡± He walked up to Delano and threw his arm over his shoulders. ¡°I told him not to tell anyone. I was trying to surprise a lot of people when I didn¡¯t resume this term. Did he tell you about our new pet, though?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Delano grumbled. ¡°Have you guys figured out what it is, yet?¡±


    Ark scratched his cheek awkwardly. ¡°Uhh¡­¡±


    Ark looked up at Melmarc, then looked at uncle Dorthna.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know how to answer that one. What Spitfire was felt like something that was supposed to be a secret. In fact, common sense dictated that it remain a family secret until the end of time.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Guardian,¡± Dorthna said, bailing them out. ¡°Now, Ark, give Mel some fire to work with.¡±


    Eroms stepped away from Melmarc almost immediately, and Melmarc couldn¡¯t help giving him a look.


    ¡°What?¡± Eroms said. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m fire resistant.¡±


    ¡°You sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± Delano asked.


    Ark had left him to stand a few paces in front of Melmarc.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we try with something small. Maybe a lighter, or a match stick?¡±


    ¡°Do you have a matchstick on you?¡± Ninra asked. ¡°Or a lighter?¡±


    She sounded hopeful.


    Her hope deflated when Delano shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem.¡± Ark was stretching again. ¡°Things like lighters and matches won¡¯t help. We¡¯ll need to know how far his resistance can go.¡±


    Delano and Ninra¡¯s barely concealed worry was beginning to get to Melmarc. He was getting worried too.


    The skill mastery was in the negative. What if it was far less effective than Ark thought? What if he actually got burned?


    ¡°Careful with how much fire power you use,¡± Dorthna said casually.


    Ark threw him a salute. ¡°Got it.¡±


    ¡°What about my clothes?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Ark waved his worry aside. ¡°The resistance covers everything on you. When the fire gets too much that¡¯s when things like your clothes go first.¡±


    He sounded too confident.


    Melmarc really hoped this was going to go well. The last thing he wanted to do was get burned.


    Ark took a deep breath. ¡°Ready?¡±


    ¡°Rea¡ª¡±


    A notification flashed in front of Melmarc.


    [Portal detected]


    [Status effect August Guest detected.]


    [As an August Guest render all necessary aid in the closure of detected Portals.]


    Distance from Portal: 128km

 THIRTY-TWO: Red

    Melmarc froze.


    The distance of the portal was displayed above Ninra¡¯s head. He stepped in her direction and it reduced.


    127.99km¡­


    Ninra looked at him with worried eyes. ¡°Is everything alright?¡±


    Melmarc took another step and it reduced.


    Behind Ark, Dorthna¡¯s attention was also turned in Ninra¡¯s general direction. There was a small frown on his face, as if he had just noticed something annoying.


    ¡°Ignore it,¡± he said.


    That got Ark and Melmarc¡¯s attention. But it was Delano that spoke.


    ¡°Ignore what?¡±


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°Not you, Delano.¡±


    Melmarc looked from Ninra to his uncle. ¡°You can see it too?¡±


    ¡°You know that status buff you got; August Guest? It¡¯s one of its effects.¡±


    ¡°I know when portals appear?¡± Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that.


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°No, a lot of Gifted know when portals appear. Your status effect helps you know where the portals are.¡±


    Ark looked from Dorthna to Melmarc. ¡°Is that what I¡¯m feeling right now? It feels as if someone¡¯s watching me.¡±


    ¡°Do you feel it, too, E?¡± Delano asked.


    Eroms shook his head.


    Melmarc was still confused. ¡°Does it mean the Gifted know when a portal appears anywhere on the world?¡±


    ¡°Just the ones closest to them. Portals they can reasonably reach in reasonable time.¡±


    And I have to help each time? Doesn¡¯t sound like a fair trade.


    August Guest gave him an increase in all his stats which was basically nullified by his Intruder status effect. So, technically, he was required to render all assistance in closing portals for no actual reason.


    Shouldn¡¯t being Gifted be a good enough reason?


    It probably was, but something about the notification felt personal somehow. As if he was required by some unspoken law to help. It was like walking by and witnessing a robbery. Some people would argue that the moral thing to do would be to help. Which meant that helping was optional and choosing not to help couldn¡¯t be held against you.


    His notification, however, made it seem like him not helping with the closure of portals was going to get him in trouble. Like it was a crime. If he didn¡¯t call 911 or help out, when the police arrived, they would arrest him too.


    ¡°It says I should render all the aid I can,¡± he said.


    ¡°Ignore it.¡±


    Dorthna didn¡¯t seem the slightest bit bothered by the fact that a portal had opened up. In fact, he looked adamant that Melmarc ignore it.


    He was a Delver once, so maybe he knows something I don¡¯t know.


    Dorthna let out a soft sigh and placed a hand on Ark¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Keep that fire breath ready, alright?¡±


    Ark nodded.


    Then he gestured at Melmarc to come and walked away from Ark.


    Melmarc obeyed, though he felt uncomfortable each time the distance above Ninra¡¯s head increased, until he was standing next to Dorthna.


    ¡°How far does it say now?¡± Dorthna asked him now that they were relatively alone.


    Melmarc spied the number on Ninra¡¯s head. ¡°128.01km.¡±


    ¡°And how quickly do you think you can cover 128km?¡±


    ¡°Not very.¡±


    ¡°And what do you think you¡¯ll be able to do when you get there. It¡¯s illegal to enter a portal without government approval. All the companies get one before they can send in their Delvers. How do you think they¡¯ll react if they arrive at the portal and see a kid coming out of it while it¡¯s closing?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about his uncle¡¯s insinuation that he could successfully close a portal.


    It¡¯s hypotheticals Melmarc. He doesn¡¯t really think you can close a portal.


    ¡°They won¡¯t like it?¡± he answered.


    ¡°Correct. And companies usually have Delvers that know when a portal opens. Not all Gifted know how to locate it, but all Gifted above D-rank know when one opens up close by. And the companies have processes in place to also let them know where exactly the portals are. By the time you get there, there¡¯ll already be at least one speed specialist or two waiting in representation of their company.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fast.¡±


    ¡°It is,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°And the bidding between companies and the government are almost as fast. A portal appears, companies bid, and the government gives closure rights to one of them. The announcement is made and the companies already have their team going in.¡±


    ¡°What of the portal rank?¡± The entire process didn¡¯t seem to factor in the portal rank. ¡°How do the companies and the government know what rank it is?¡±


    ¡°Companies aren¡¯t the only ones with speedsters. The government has its own. And almost everyone has a scaling stone. Everyone will know what rank it is before you can knock off one kilometer from that distance you keep seeing over your sister¡¯s head.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°How do you know it¡¯s on her head? Can you see it, too?¡±


    ¡°No. But you looked at her when I asked how far it was.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°What I¡¯m saying is that this is not some epic origin story where you get your Class and end up helping the government close a portal before you even have the chance to train your skills. I know the sys¡ªnotification makes it seem like you have to be there helping, but you don¡¯t. First, no one will let you into the portal without an affiliation or a Delving license. Second, even if you go in, you won¡¯t be able to help.¡±


    ¡°Fakers aren¡¯t that bad,¡± Melmarc muttered. ¡°I¡¯ve even got [Will of Hades] right now.¡±


    Dorthna flicked him on the head softly with his finger. ¡°It¡¯s not about your class, Mel. It¡¯s about your experience. Trust me, there¡¯s no weak class. Even [Barista] has its uses inside a portal in the right circumstance.¡±


    Melmarc found that hard to believe.


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    ¡°What I¡¯m talking about is your experience,¡± his uncle continued. ¡°You don¡¯t know the range of your detection skill. You just found out how long it lasts. You don¡¯t know how strong the buffs you¡¯ll get will be.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how quickly they weaken or how long they¡¯ll last.¡± Melmarc was already picking out more issues in his head. ¡°My selection time is probably very poor, and I haven¡¯t figured out what skills I can¡¯t use.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t really need to worry about that last part,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you¡¯ll have problems with world skills. They are pretty difficult to replicate. As for the skill with all the question marks, I¡¯m very sure mine is a special case.¡±


    ¡°Does it have something to do with why you retired so early?¡±


    Dorthna grinned mischievously. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Melmarc had been sure he wouldn¡¯t get an answer to the question, but he couldn¡¯t blame himself for trying.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Dorthna turned him towards Ark. ¡°The government puts every aspiring Delver through that internship program before they even join a Delving school for a reason. It teaches them how to live as strong Gifted, before sending them to school to learn how to be Delvers. Trust me, before you know it, your phone will be ringing before you even notice a portal has opened.¡±


    Melmarc caught Delano scribbling in his book.


    If I had chosen jotting, would my handwriting just become a bad version of itself or would I have his handwriting?


    With the little distraction that wasn¡¯t so little, and the pep talk from uncle Dorthna, Melmarc wasn¡¯t as worried when Ark prepared to blast him with [Breath of Fire].


    Everyone cleared out from around him and Ark let him have it.


    The first thing Melmarc noticed was one of the advantages of [Breath of Fire]. While he didn¡¯t feel any pain, he also couldn¡¯t see anything but fire in front of him.


    Tactically speaking, if Ark¡¯s opponent had a high fire resistance, Ark could at least use this as a tactical advantage to create a blind spot.


    The second thing he noticed was how the skill [Will of Hades] worked. The flames actually just licked above his skin and clothes. It was like it just flowed over him rather than pressing into him.


    To his senses, it was like someone was applying pressure on him the more intense the flames grew.


    Definitely a magical type of resistance.


    It made sense that [Will of Hades] could also control fire.


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough.¡±


    The flames guttered out at Dorthna¡¯s words, and Eroms walked over to pat Melmarc on the shoulder.


    At first he thought it was some kind of congratulations, until he noticed Eroms was still patting him. When he looked at his shoulder, he saw a whisper of smoke emanating.


    There was a small singe in his shirt, just at the shoulder.


    Some of the fire had gotten through.


    Ark was staring at the burn. ¡°It usually takes longer before my clothes start burning.¡±


    ¡°You have a three percent mastery, Ark,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Your brother has a negative twenty percent mastery. It''ll clearly not go the same way.¡±


    A three percent mastery?


    It hadn¡¯t been that long since Ark got his class, had it? Three percent mastery was a quick growth. At ten percent, a Gifted would be offered their first upgrade. Ark could choose to make the skill stronger or he could opt to get another skill.


    Do Classes granted by Guardians work the same way normal Classes work?


    The only example they had to decipher from was Dragon-knight, and apart from the earlier years of her Delving days, there was almost nothing known about her class now. She had [Dragon Scales] and [Dragon¡¯s Breath].


    She could¡¯ve gotten more skills over the years or just specialized on both skills and made them grand, but no one knew. And the only people who would be able to tell would be those who went into portals with her. And none of them were saying anything.


    If she wanted her secret kept, I wouldn¡¯t say anything either.


    The woman had a pet dragon, of course no one would be willing to cross her.


    For the remaining hours before Delano and Eroms¡¯ curfew, Melmarc learned a few more things about his skills.


    The fact that a buff was gotten from a human did not necessarily mean the mastery would be scaled to one hundred percent. Sometimes it was a hundred percent, and sometimes it was less.


    Most of the buffs he¡¯d picked up from Ninra were scaled around fifty percent mastery.


    No matter what human activity, Eroms or Ark indulged in, he could only pick up skill buffs from them, and the mastery only fell lower the longer it had been since they¡¯d used their skill.


    At some point they¡¯d waited an entire hour after Eroms had used [Gluttony] before Melmarc had tried to select the skill. The mastery level had been too deep into the negative for him to even consider selecting it. Almost a negative hundred percent.


    The effect of using [Knowledge Is Power] without using [Bless Your Kindness] was also determined. If he did it three times, his head felt heavier. If he did it six times, he became unable to think straight. His mind became foggy and remembering things became difficult.


    Dorthna made him rest from time to time to prevent mana fatigue, but the highlight of the entire event was in the final piece of information he learnt.


    The time on his phone told him that Delano¡¯s curfew was fast approaching.


    Ninra sat at one side of the gym already bored, and Ark was already growing worried about Spitfire. They¡¯d left it home alone and he was worried it would grow bored and get broody when he returned.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t exactly sure how a broody Spitfire looked. To him Spitfire always looked the same. Maybe it was something of a bond Ark had built with it. He would ask Ark when they got home.


    ¡°One last one before we go,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°For this one, I¡¯ll need you to notice the indicators on everyone immediately. As fast as you can.¡±


    It was a new trick. Dorthna had only always emphasized on how quickly he could pick a buff since it would determine a lot of things in a combat scenario.


    He understood the purpose very well. He couldn¡¯t well be thinking about what skill to pick when his teammates were fighting. It wasn¡¯t like his enemy was going to wait for him to choose.


    But now, he needed to detect everyone immediately.


    Now that he thought of it, as he prepared to activate [Knowledge Is Power] he hadn¡¯t even bothered with everyone¡¯s indicator the entire day.


    ¡°Do I just activate it with everyone in front of me?¡±


    Dorhtna shook his head. ¡°Let everyone be where they are. See if you can feel the skill. You said you can tell if there¡¯s an ant on the ground with the skill. I assume it¡¯s not like you¡¯re looking at the ant. So let¡¯s see if you can also tell where everyone is and what their indicators are without looking.¡±


    For the exercise everyone came closer so that they would fall within his range.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    The burst of white static spread out around him, and came back.


    Another thing he¡¯d noticed was that the weaker he was, mana-wise, the slower it took for the burst to expand and return.


    When it came back he prepared himself, trying his best to think about everyone in the room. Hopefully the knowledge would come to him almost immediately.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5 for eight minutes.]


    [Life forms detected: 5.]


    [You have received 5 Potential buffs.]


    Melmarc ignored the buffs he could choose from and tried to see if he could notice the indicators without looking at them.


    He knew where everyone was but not what color their indicators were.


    ¡°Did it work?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Melmarc shook his head.


    The knowledge didn¡¯t come to him like most of the irrelevant ones did.


    His uncle nodded contemplatively. ¡°Maybe it¡¯ll get better with use. You¡¯re still at zero mastery after all. the more you use the skill, the higher the mastery will grow, and the better your understanding of it.¡±


    He looked around the gym and drew in a conclusive breath.


    ¡°Alright, everyone. We don¡¯t have to go home, but we can¡¯t stay here.¡± He paused, then pointed at Delano and Eroms. ¡°Actually, both of you definitely have to go home.¡±


    Delano threw him a mock salute. ¡°Where else would we go? It¡¯s a school night.¡±


    As everyone gathered themselves to leave, and Ark arranged the punching bag, Dorthna asked Melmarc a surprising question.


    ¡°What does my indicator say?¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t really thought about it, which was surprising. The secret of Dorthna¡¯s class and rank was there for the taking. It had been all day.


    Maybe that¡¯s why you didn¡¯t look.


    It felt like a heavy invasion of his uncle¡¯s privacy to peek at the man¡¯s secret. But now that he was asking, Melmarc was more than happy to take a look.


    He looked at it and froze.


    [???????? (?????)(???)]


    He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.


    Dorthna poised his lips in acceptance. ¡°You can¡¯t see it.¡±


    There was something in his voice. Disappointment perhaps. It was like he¡¯d asked for his own sake, not Melmarc¡¯s.


    It was like there was something he had intended to learn from it.


    ¡°Not even my rank?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    Dorthna let out a resigned sigh. ¡°Well, it was worth a try. Don¡¯t beat yourself up. It just teaches you more about your skill. It seems there are things you won¡¯t be able to see.¡±


    Dorthna gave him a soft pat on the shoulder and started making his way for the exit like the others.


    Melmarc wanted to follow after him but his legs felt like lead. He just stood there, watching his uncle go.


    ¡°You coming?¡± Ark called after him. ¡°Or you want to wait behind and lock up?¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t stay behind and lock up,¡± Dorthna refused, roughing up Ark¡¯s hair playfully. ¡°Come on, Mel. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Delano gave Melmarc an odd look before hurrying back to him.


    ¡°You good? You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to answer that. Like everyone else, Delano still had his name and indicator above his head, and the distance of the portal was still hovering in one direction, no longer above Ninra¡¯s head.


    He guessed it was the direction of the opened portal.


    He checked Delano¡¯s indicator. It was the same vibrant green he¡¯d expected it to be.


    [Delano North]


    After a moment, Melmarc¡¯s feet obeyed, and he took a step forward. All the while he returned his attention to the exit and continued to stare at his uncle¡¯s indicator. It was there, above his uncle¡¯s head. Clear as day.


    [???????? (?????)(???)]


    It was red, with a hue of grey.

 THIRTY-THREE: More Important In Black

    Melmarc sat in a waiting room, legs bouncing in nervousness.


    He was not alone. Beside him was Ark, looking calm and casual, always able to be calm in nervous situations.


    There a few more people in the room. A girl with black hair and purple highlights wearing ripped jeans and what looked like an old leather jacket. Another with glasses and dressed like the kind of girl that always took first place in class. There were four boys, each one of varying dispositions ranging from good and well-behaved to delinquent and most likely to join a gang.


    Ark placed a hand on his knees to stop the jerking. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, Mel. We¡¯ve got this.¡±


    Melmarc looked at his brother and nodded.


    They were here to register their Classes with the government. For the first time Melmarc thought the government¡¯s idea of immediately assigning a newly registered Gifted that wanted to be a Delver to a mentor was unreasonable.


    What if they just wanted to spend some time to themselves? What if they just wanted to wait it out, figure out what they really wanted to do with their lives? Like people who took a gap year before going to college.


    But he understood the logic behind the government¡¯s planning. This played right into the government¡¯s natural scheme of things.


    They needed to account for all their citizens at all times. Their care and protection, when looked at from a different angle could also be seen as control and obsession.


    They wanted to account for every possible threat, and their control over people who could break through walls with just the right amount of physical force was certainly going to be firmer than that of other people.


    Still¡­


    He turned to Ark and asked in a whisper, ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried about your class?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°Uncle Dorthna said that there are special circumstances like mine, and there are protocols in place to handle them. If they think my class is really some kind of risk¡ªwhich he doesn¡¯t think they will¡ªI¡¯ll likely be assigned to an S-class or a really powerful A-class mentor.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t entirely convinced.


    ¡°And it¡¯s the government, Mel,¡± Ark added. ¡°They won¡¯t discriminate just because someone sees my class. They¡¯ll follow the chain of command and no priest will come in spraying holy water and swinging a cincture.¡±


    That was true, but Ark¡¯s words had reminded him about another thing that had been on his mind for the past three days.


    Uncle Dorthna.


    He¡¯d thought about it extensively for three good days and it still didn¡¯t make sense. What did a grey and red indicator really mean?


    He¡¯d heard about how skills are subject to the Gifted¡¯s interpretation, but he didn¡¯t think that was the case here. If it was, green would¡¯ve been one of the colors.


    Did that mean that the skill was broken?


    It wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d used it enough times to know for sure. Maybe there could be a completely different meaning to a two-colored indicator.


    I couldn¡¯t see his name or class, either, he thought.


    Maybe that was something of the case. Maybe the skill couldn¡¯t get a read on uncle Dorthna. It could explain multiple colors.


    But why grey and red not green and grey or green and red. Melmarc frowned. Or anything with green at all.


    Ark nudged his leg. ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡±


    ¡°If red is a threat and grey is neutral, what do you think a grey red or a red grey is?¡±


    Ark looked up in thought. ¡°That¡¯s a tough one. A neutral threat?¡±


    ¡°Like he¡¯s a threat but he¡¯s not interested in you?¡±


    Ark nodded. ¡°Maybe. Like he¡¯s a threat in general but he¡¯ll leave you alone as long as you leave him alone.¡±


    That makes some level of sense.


    Melmarc could envision their uncle being a threat, just not to them. Everything about him was shrouded in secrecy after all. They¡¯d never heard a whisper about anything family related. No one knew what his class was or what skills he had.


    He was a close friend of the family but no one knew where he lived. They never even visited.


    He also never spends more than a day at home when mom and dad are around.


    Now that he thought about it, that was odd. It had been like that all their lives so Melmarc hadn¡¯t really thought about it. No one had.


    But now, the grey and red indicator was having him question too many things.


    ¡°Has uncle Dorthna ever had a girlfriend?¡± he asked Ark.


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Ark didn¡¯t seem too interested. He was too busy staring at the door to the room they were meant to enter. ¡°If he ever did, no one¡¯s ever found out.¡±


    ¡°So she¡¯s a secret?¡±


    ¡°Personally, I think he doesn¡¯t.¡± Ark adjusted so that he faced Melmarc, suddenly interested. ¡°Have you noticed that his phone only rings when one of us is calling him?¡±


    Melmarc had noticed it. But he didn¡¯t really think too much of it. His own phone only rang when a family member was calling, or Delano and Eroms. He didn¡¯t think it was that big of a deal.


    ¡°Maybe he doesn¡¯t have friends?¡±


    ¡°Or family?¡± Ark asked, not convinced. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s kind of sus, if you ask me. But it¡¯s not something new. You remember when we were kids and we used to think he was an intruder?¡±


    ¡°Yea.¡±


    They both laughed quietly. But Melmarc was beginning to wonder again.


    Would his skill be able to tell if he was in the presence of an intruder? Would they have their own special indicator?


    And why not green?


    Green was for allies. And Dorthna felt like an ally. He¡¯d taken care of them their entire lives. He¡¯d driven all the way across town that one time Ninra had gone on a date and her date had abandoned her at the restaurant.


    She¡¯d had cash but she¡¯d been too heartbroken to do much of anything but call him.


    He¡¯d been present in important ways in their lives.


    So why wasn¡¯t there any green?


    What if the color assignment wasn¡¯t based on the people¡¯s intent towards him but his intent towards them?


    Vlad had been green in the mansion and he¡¯d known that Vlad was their host. Joshua had been red, which made sense if he was suspicious of him. And Joshua had seemed suspicious at the time.


    I didn¡¯t know Tepes and Anais so that could be why they were grey.


    Maybe his mind was interpreting uncle Dorthna as grey because he somehow thought he was neutral since he shared next to nothing about himself. And red was probably just because of an innate fear of the unknown?


    He knew he was grasping at straws even before the thoughts were complete.


    The door Ark had been staring at most of their time here opened and a woman stepped out. It wasn¡¯t the first time the door was opening, and it wasn¡¯t the first time they were seeing her.


    She wore a simple business suit with pants instead of a skirt. It was a deep navy blue, and the shirt she wore inside was white.


    Her blue eyes looked down at a tab in her hands.


    ¡°Ark Lockwood?¡±


    Ark raised his hand, then got up.


    He gave Melmarc a thumbs up as he headed for the door. ¡°Wish me luck.¡±


    Normally, Melmarc wouldn¡¯t think a person needed luck. But considering Ark was going to be assigned a mentor almost immediately, maybe people did need luck for these things.


    Ark paused when he got to the woman, taking a quick peek at her tab.


    He nodded towards Melmarc. ¡°He¡¯s next on the least. Is it alright if we go in together? He¡¯s my younger brother, and he tends to worry a lot.¡±


    The woman looked between them and her face softened. Melmarc could see her considering it.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said finally. She looked like she meant it. ¡°I would allow if I could, but there are procedures in place for these things.¡±


    Ark was civilized about it as he stepped into the office, leaving Melmarc with the rest of the people in the waiting room.


    Melmarc¡¯s thoughts on their uncle switched to worries for Ark now that he was alone.


    Yes, the government was not an individual but a body made up of diverse individuals with processes put in place to assist with scenarios concerning that diversity. But it was difficult to believe that anyone apart from a demon worshipper would see Demon Lord and think positively.


    Maybe agnostics, too?


    Regardless, the government body was still made up of individuals. For instance, if the woman who looked kind and considerate were to see Demon-Lord on her screen after testing Ark, what would she do?


    She might think it was right to find a way to send him of to somewhere dangerous with a dangerous Delver.


    There were Delvers who had high assistant fatality rates. Normal Gifted, too. Mostly those who worked in the police force. A partner died here or there because one criminal or the other held too much of a grudge, or they just led them into too deadly a situation.


    He knew the posting was meant to be completely automated, just for a true randomizing effect. It was the reason the posting was done immediately. But someone could find a way.


    Someone could¡­


    Are you listening to yourself right now?


    Melmarc paused. Maybe Ark was right. Maybe he did worry too much when it came to Ark.


    There was a quiet movement to his side. One of the others waiting had gotten up from her chair. It was the girl with purple highlights.


    Three of the four boys watched with interest as she cut through the distance to sit next to Melmarc. The fourth boy who hadn¡¯t looked seemed more interested in something on his phone.


    Up close, Melmarc could understand why the boys had looked. The girl was pretty, but in that way that told you she¡¯d stab you in your sleep in you breathed wrong.


    ¡°Hi.¡±


    Even her voice was pretty with the same violent undertone. Give her a gum to chew and she¡¯d meet all the requirements of a clich¨¦ novel bad girl character.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Hi.¡±


    The girl looked from side to side. ¡°Got any weed on you?¡±


    Melmarc paused. He couldn¡¯t say he¡¯d seen that coming. Normally, his response would be a polite no, but he had too much on his mind to control his words.


    ¡°Do I look like someone that carries things like that around?¡±


    He hoped his voice was at least polite. He wasn¡¯t mad at being asked or anything, just confused.


    The girl shrugged. ¡°Kinda.¡±


    That didn¡¯t make sense. He didn¡¯t dress like a nerd or a geek, but he also certainly didn¡¯t dress like a delinquent or a drug dealer.


    If he was to describe his dress code, he¡¯d say it was mundane. Plain.


    The girl must''ve seen his confusion because she added: ¡°You look like the kind of brother that would carry your brother¡¯s weed for him since no one would ever suspect you.¡±


    Oh.


    That made sense. Ark didn¡¯t look like a bad kid, but he did look like he didn¡¯t mind getting in trouble every now and then, which was true. It just wasn¡¯t that kind of trouble.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Melmarc told her. ¡°But no weed.¡±


    The girl clicked her tongue. ¡°Damn. Would¡¯ve loved a hit right about now.¡±


    Before the registration? That¡¯s crazy.


    Drugs didn¡¯t play any part in the outcome of the registration. Whatever the government used for their testing, nothing was known to be able to fool it. And people had tried.


    His surprise was in the fact that they were in a government building, and the people that worked here were in the age grade that still looked at people who did drugs in a bad light.


    Personally, Melmarc didn¡¯t mind people who smoked and did one drug or the other. His worry was in those who¡¯d made it an addiction and let it control most of their lives.


    ¡°That¡¯s an odd look from an innocent guy.¡±


    Melmarc turned to her at her words. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I asked goody two shoes over there if he had any weed.¡± She nodded in the direction of one of the boys with glasses. ¡°Guess what happened?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t get any weed?¡±


    She paused. ¡°That, too. But I meant something else. He looked at me like I was an affront to God.¡±


    Most people who don¡¯t do drugs would.


    ¡°But you.¡± She smiled, and it was beautiful to look at, even if mischievous. ¡°You just looked at me like I was some guy that walked up to you and asked for directions.¡±


    Melmarc said nothing. He didn¡¯t think there was anything to say.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t judgey,¡± she explained. Then she leaned back and folded her arms over her chest, staring at the door Ark had walked into. ¡°Maybe your brother does smoke.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to tell her that Ark didn¡¯t smoke but changed his mind. It was really none of her business.


    So, instead, he stared at the door and tried not to worry too much.


    He failed.


    After five minutes of waiting, his foot was beginning to tap again. He didn¡¯t want to worry but couldn¡¯t help it.


    The last person was in there for ten minutes before they called for him, he assured himself. Ark¡¯s fine.


    Beside him the girl held out her hand.


    He looked down at it, slightly confused. He reached across slowly and shook it.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    She gave him that same smile she¡¯d given him earlier, but this one had none of the mischief.


    ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Patience, and I don¡¯t smoke.¡±


    Melmarc was confused. ¡°Hi¡­ I¡¯m Marc¡­ And I don¡¯t have any drugs?¡±


    She was still smiling. ¡°Hi, Marc. Cool name.¡±


    He wanted to tell her that her name was cool, too. But he didn¡¯t feel very good about lying right now. He actually thought her name was quite plain. And he didn¡¯t want to be rude by telling her.


    Since she didn¡¯t ask for his opinion on her name, he said, ¡°Thanks.¡±


    She stared at him as he let go of her hand.


    ¡°Just thanks?¡± she chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re not going to tell me my name¡¯s cool?¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to say something he didn¡¯t yet know, but her laughter brought him to silence.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind me. I know my name¡¯s plain.¡± She snorted. ¡°Trust my parents to give me some generic name. Joy, Peace, Happiness. At least she didn¡¯t give me something like Longevity.¡±


    Melmarc could agree with that one. He couldn¡¯t really picture living a life with Longevity as his name.


    Then again, Melmarc wasn¡¯t the coolest name. That¡¯s why he always gave Marc. Sometimes he felt guilty about giving it. But people called him Marc, and it was short for Melmarc, so it wasn¡¯t like it was false.


    Right?


    ¡°So why are you so worried about your brother, Marc?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Because he¡¯s my brother.¡±


    ¡°True, but it¡¯s just a registration. People don¡¯t get worried about registrations.¡±


    ¡°They do when the other person could be posted anywhere.¡±


    ¡°You could be posted anywhere. Why not worry about yourself? Besides, anywhere you end up getting posted, the government covers your transport and housing. Also, they don¡¯t post you anywhere ludicrous. They like to take good care of their Gifted and all that. Especially the A¡¯s and S¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°What about the B¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Your brother¡¯s a B?¡± Patience tapped a finger against her elbow. ¡°Well, they don¡¯t really care much for B¡¯s. B¡¯s are neither here nor there for them. Where they focus when it comes to B¡¯s are on their growth potential. You won¡¯t be placed in the best place, but you¡¯ll get something good. I heard there was a B with and S growth potential last year. They sent her to Tatelat.¡±


    That got Melmarc¡¯s attention.


    Tatelat was the country¡¯s Gifted capital. It was a town that had cut itself out from the rest of the country. Everything about it was high-end, and only the best of the best Delvers lived there.


    It was also a bit discriminatory.


    For instance, the only non-Gifted that live there were children of the Gifted that lived there. Also, money and being Gifted was not enough to get you in, you needed some level of combat history.


    The two S-ranks the country had lived there, along with a lot of A-ranks and B-ranks. C-ranks were rare, and D-ranks were almost non-existent.


    Tatelat also had a prestige for owning the best Delver school in the country. Every country has their Gifted capital. And Tatelat was America¡¯s


    Getting a mentor in Tatelat would be a boon to any aspiring Delver¡¯s career.


    ¡°Wait, how do you know all this?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Patience shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m actually in a community that shares these kinds of information.¡±


    Melmarc was unwilling to accept that. Delano was in a community as well but didn¡¯t have access to this level of information.


    ¡°Also, my mom works for the head of the Delver¡¯s department in the country.¡±


    That was more believable.


    Melmarc studied her outfit and composure. She fit the stereotype of rebellious government child, with the clothes and the highlights. Government child wasn''t the right description. She looked like she was the rebellious child of powerful parents.


    Patience ran a finger through one of her highlights. ¡°This? It¡¯s from my rebellious phase. I was a foolish thirteen-year-old. I liked it so I kept it.¡±


    ¡°But you didn¡¯t smoke.¡±


    ¡°Or drink. Stuff kills the body. I was rebellious not suicidal.¡±


    Melmarc smiled at that. ¡°So what rebellious thing did you do?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Patience looked up in thought. ¡°Stayed out past my curfew. Got a boyfriend six years older than me. Broke into vehicles.¡±


    ¡°You dated a nineteen-year-old?¡± Melmarc had no idea why that surprised him.


    Patience laughed. ¡°I said I broke into vehicles and you¡¯re more worried about my boyfriend.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not like you stole the cars, right?¡±


    She had that mischievous grin again. ¡°What makes you think that?¡±


    ¡°You said you broke into cars, not that you stole cars.¡± Melmarc relaxed against his chair and wasn¡¯t looking at the registration room for the first time. ¡°I figured you¡¯d have said you stole cars if you did.¡±


    Patience¡¯s smile turned thoughtful.


    ¡°You¡¯re an interesting boy, Marc,¡± she said. ¡°And you don¡¯t have to worry about my ex. He didn¡¯t take advantage of me or anything. He was actually just my boyfriend in name. We didn¡¯t do any of the relationship perks.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what response was safe to give, so he just nodded.


    ¡°I also broke into people¡¯s homes with a few of my friends,¡± she added, then sighed. ¡°Those were good times.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like you had fun.¡±


    ¡°I did. Then I grew up. What about you? Any catchy childhood stories?¡±


    ¡°I fell off a tree once.¡± Melmarc turned to look at her. ¡°Does that count?¡±


    ¡°Only if you broke something important, and the tree wasn¡¯t in your backyard.¡±


    Melmarc smiled and looked up at the roof. It was a solid white. Clean.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have a tree at my place, just a garden in the backyard. The tree was at my friend¡¯s place.¡±


    ¡°Story¡¯s almost interesting. And what did you break?¡±


    ¡°Dislocated my left knee, but didn¡¯t break anything.¡±


    ¡°Is that what ended your high-school basketball career?¡± Patience joked. ¡°Did you also tear your ACL? Are you secretly a star athlete?¡±


    Melmarc laughed. ¡°I¡¯m not that tall. I¡¯m not even tall.¡±


    ¡°Dude,¡± Patience snorted. ¡°You¡¯re the tallest guy in this place. What are you, like, six, two?¡±


    Melmarc tried to gauge her height from where she was seated and failed.


    ¡°I¡¯m five eleven. Six if you want a round figure.¡±


    She eyeballed him, then shook her head. ¡°My boyfriend is six, round figure. Trust me. You¡¯re not.¡±


    That was odd. He was sixteen, he might still be growing but he honestly didn''t think he still was.


    Melmarc looked at her. ¡°So what am I? Taller or shorter?¡±


    ¡°No, don¡¯t do that,¡± Patience laughed, gesturing sassily at his face. ¡°Don¡¯t go giving half-smiles and wry grins. It messes up the whole good boy persona you have going on.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s smile only widened. He¡¯d never been accused of having a good boy persona before. Or having a half-smile or a wry grin.


    Who even uses half-smiles and wry grins? He thought.


    ¡°What¡¯s with the face?¡±


    ¡°Half-smiles and wry grin,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Most people just say grin or cocky smile.¡±


    Patience looked at the ceiling with a sly grin of her own. ¡°What can I say? I¡¯m a sophisticated girl.¡±


    Melmarc laughed. ¡°With purple highlights and ripped jeans?¡±


    Patience shrugged. ¡°Sophisticated and diverse. I¡¯m like a jack in a box. You have no idea what¡¯s coming out next.¡±


    On his chair, the boy who looked like a delinquent was frowning at them. Melmarc had a feeling he wished he was the one in the chair.


    But Melmarc wasn¡¯t looking at him. He was looking above his head. There was a number there.


    188km.


    Three days now, and the portal wasn¡¯t closed. It wasn¡¯t out of the ordinary, but unlike all of the notifications he got, this one never disappeared. He closed his eyes.


    188km.


    It was still there, clear as day even with his eyes closed. For the last three days, it had been insistent on staying. As if it was reminding him that he wasn¡¯t doing what he was meant to do.


    When he opened his eyes, Patience was staring at him.


    ¡°Worried about Donny over there?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but Ark had made him develop a different kind of wariness for bullies. Growing up, he¡¯d learned to avoid them for their own good.


    ¡°Trust me, Donny¡¯s the least of my worries."


    ¡°Ooh, macho.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow at her and she laughed.


    ¡°Alright tall and handsome, what kind of things are at the top of your worries? What had you making a face?¡±


    ¡°The active portal,¡± he answered easily.


    True to uncle Dorthna¡¯s words, the government had located the portal before they¡¯d gotten home that night. It was in some secluded forest, a good way away from civilization, as most portals tend to be.


    One of the Delving companies had gotten the rights to the portal and had all but entered immediately. It had been categorized as a B-rank portal.


    ¡°Oh, that.¡± Patience brought out her phone and typed in a few things. ¡°I heard it might be closed in a few days now.¡±


    ¡°I heard the rescue team is still on standby.¡± Melmarc was trying not to look at what she was typing. ¡°They usually go in after four days if the strength of the portal doesn¡¯t reduce, right?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a B-rank portal. They usually do that for C-rank portals. B¡¯s get a one-week delay. A¡¯s get nothing. If A-rank Delvers can¡¯t close it in a week, there¡¯s no point sending people after them unless they¡¯re A-rankers as well.¡±


    She turned her phone and showed him her screen.


    It was a footage of a group of people standing outside a portal, waiting.


    ¡°My brother sent me this footage yesterday.¡±


    Melmarc held out his hand to take her phone. ¡°May I?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± She handed it over.


    He took it and looked at the video. It was a steady video. Whoever was behind the camera didn¡¯t turn it or pan for any other views. They also didn¡¯t zoom in, so there wasn¡¯t any detail of the Delvers waiting or what kinds of gear they had on.


    ¡°Is your brother a camera man or a Delver?¡±


    ¡°Delver,¡± she answered. ¡°A-rank. My folks thought I¡¯ll be an A-rank like him. Their attempt to hide their disappointment when I ended up being a B-rank was hilarious.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t see why they would be disappointed. ¡°B¡¯s a good rank, though.¡±


    Patience snorted in amusement. ¡°Not when your dad¡¯s an S, your mom¡¯s an A, and your brother¡¯s an A.¡±


    Melmarc paused.


    There were only two S-ranks in the country and only one was married to an A-rank.


    ¡°Has anyone ever told you that you¡¯re bad at hiding your facial expressions?¡± she asked, amused. ¡°Never play poker. You¡¯ll lose.¡±


    ¡°Your mom¡¯s¡ª¡± Melmarc cut himself short and lowered his voice to a whisper. ¡°Your mom¡¯s Dragon-Knight?¡±


    Patience smiled proudly. ¡°And my dad¡¯s a powerful S-rank. Funny how everyone¡¯s always more focused on my mom. It¡¯s always about the dragon.¡±


    A year ago, he would¡¯ve had questions about Dragon-Knight and her dragon. Now, he wasn¡¯t as amused. He was still amused, though.


    Spitfire¡¯s taking all the fantasy out of the fantastic.


    Melmarc took the information and filed it away.


    ¡°It¡¯s cool, your dad¡¯s also a powerful S-rank,¡± he said. ¡°What¡¯s it like having popular and powerful parents?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± She shrugged. ¡°People find out and start to murmur, and then you aren¡¯t very sure if your friends are your friends or are just trying to get with you because of your parents. So I¡¯m usually all hush hush about it. It¡¯s even better since our parents kept us out of the media.¡±


    ¡°But you told me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I did.¡± She held her hand out for her phone and he gave her. ¡°Honestly, I was just curious to see if you¡¯d believe me, and how you¡¯d react to it. You can tell a lot about a person from their reaction to things like that.¡±


    ¡°And what did you get from my reaction?¡±


    ¡°That you either don¡¯t care that my family has a pet dragon, or you really don¡¯t want to come near my family and our pet dragon.¡±


    The latter was probably the more correct answer.


    The door to the registration room opened, and the lady in a suit stepped out. It brought their conversation to a stop.


    ¡°Melmarc Lockwood,¡± she said.


    She didn¡¯t call out the name like she had always been doing. She simply looked at Melmarc and said it.


    ¡°Your turn, wry grin,¡± Patience said beside him.


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Thanks for keeping me company,¡± he said, getting up.


    ¡°It¡¯s no problem. The foot tapping was giving me a migraine from all the way over there. Think of it as community service for my rebellious phase.¡±


    Melmarc laughed as he walked past the lady for the registration. He consciously checked their height difference as he passed her, suddenly conscious of his own.


    When he was inside, she closed the door behind them.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about your brother,¡± she said, as she led him deeper into the room. ¡°His class is a bit odd, but we¡¯ve seen worse.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    That was surprising. Melmarc hadn¡¯t heard of any class more ominous than Demon Lord.


    ¡°Really,¡± the lady replied. ¡°Just last month I had a kid come in with a skill called [God Is Dead]. Terrifying thing.¡±


    They were walking down a dark hallway now, lit only by blue lights. Melmarc had thought the door just led to an office where they took the exam.


    ¡°What did the skill do?¡±


    The lady made a face. ¡°Just projected a large mana-version of himself around him. He had the Titan class so it was nothing too impressive.¡±


    Melmarc wondered at the name of the skill. From what he knew about skills, there was more to it than just a mana projection. Either the Gifted had kept it out of his registration, which was unlikely, or the lady wasn¡¯t telling him everything.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± the lady continued, ¡°your brother¡¯s on the next step of the registration so he¡¯s doing alright.¡±


    The distance from the still active portal hovered over her head and Melmarc tried not to stare at it.


    She led him into a new room. This one was bright with white lights.


    It was a wide room with an office desk on his left. At the center of the room, just against the wall was a tall black glass. It looked like a massive phone screen.


    The lady walked up to the desk but didn¡¯t sit down.


    ¡°Where are my manners,¡± she said as she brought a notepad out from a drawer. ¡°I know your name but you don¡¯t know mine. It must be uncomfortable.¡±


    It really wasn¡¯t. Melmarc didn¡¯t mind not knowing her name.


    ¡°My name¡¯s Sharon.¡± She didn¡¯t offer a last name. ¡°I¡¯m a B-rank Empath, and I¡¯ll be in charge of your registration. We¡¯ll start simple. What¡¯s your class?¡±


    Melmarc turned his attention from the black glass and looked at her. A B-rank Empath. It was an impressive class, and a fitting one for her job role.


    People said Empath¡¯s had a general instinct towards detecting lies. So it was probably not a good idea to lie to her.


    ¡°Faker,¡± he answered.


    Sharon paused, then scribbled something on the note pad.


    ¡°That¡¯s a tough class to make friends with,¡± she said, not looking up. ¡°But I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine. And what¡¯s your rank?¡±


    ¡°B.¡±


    ¡°Do you have a growth potential yet or are you a recently Classed?¡±


    ¡°I have a growth potential.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°Unranked.¡±


    Sharon paused and looked up at him. ¡°Unranked?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    She made a face he couldn¡¯t decipher, then gestured at the glass.


    ¡°Place your hand on the glass please. Palm flat. Your details will be displayed once you¡¯ve done that.¡±


    Melmarc obeyed. He stepped up to the glass and placed his hand against it as instructed. It was cold to the touch, and surprisingly soft. Like jelly.


    He felt a mild tingle, then the surface of the glass wobbled like water. Instead of appearing in front of him, his notification appeared beside him.


    Sharon dropped her notepad and walked around the desk.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t I have just shown it to you?¡± he asked her when he noticed she was actually looking at his notification.


    It felt a bit like an invasion of his privacy when she looked at it like that. He wasn¡¯t sure why, considering it was going to be displayed anyway.


    He¡¯d just expected it to appear on the glass in front of him, not somewhere beside him for her to look at like it was hers.


    ¡°Wow, you were right.¡± She looked up at him, impressed. ¡°An unranked growth potential. That¡¯s a first for me.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but be proud of himself.


    ¡°A lot of people have a thing against the Faker class,¡± she continued. ¡°But I think it¡¯s an interesting class. It¡¯s probably the most versatile class after Mage. Personally, I think it¡¯s the most diverse. Because you could be an Intelligence type one day, and the next thing you know, you¡¯re an Agility type. My advice, read about as many skills as you can so you know all of them.¡±


    Melmarc nodded in thanks. He wondered why she hadn¡¯t asked about the skill next to his class. Or his status effect. They were always there.


    He looked down at it.


    ¡°Keep your hand on the glass,¡± Sharon said calmly. ¡°Once you let go, this disappears.¡±


    Melmarc kept his hand on the glass as he saw why Sharon hadn¡¯t asked.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Just out of curiosity, he tried to pull up his own interface and it worked.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Gossip (Mastery 10.19%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Status: August Guest +0.5 to all stats, Intruder -0.5 to all stats.


    In a bid to see what normal human skills would feel like, he¡¯d gotten the gossip buff from Ninra a day ago.


    It had been at almost forty percent when he¡¯d gotten it, but had dwindled down to where it currently was. Its effect had been simple. He¡¯d been caught with an overwhelming interest in other people¡¯s lives and had really, really wanted to talk about who was dating who in school.


    He¡¯d spent most of the day worried about it. It wasn¡¯t like it was something he couldn¡¯t control. It was just worrying how influential it was over him. But as long as he kept his mouth shut and didn¡¯t talk about a topic he knew a lot about, he was fine.


    Another thing he learnt was that it¡¯s mastery went down far slower than that of Gifted skills. By now, any Gifted skill would¡¯ve been in the negative.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Sharon announced, turning away from him and picking up a tablet from her desk. ¡°You can remove your hand from the glass.¡±


    Melmarc removed it and flexed his hand. There was nothing out of the ordinary.


    ¡°If you¡¯re wondering about the glass,¡± she said, still typing away, ¡°it was made many years ago by a Crafter who had the Smith of the World skill.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t heard of that skill. But it wasn¡¯t like he knew all the world skills, only the ones officially known.


    Sharon pointed at another door in the side of the room, still not looking up from her tab. ¡°Take that door, then make a left, you¡¯ll find yourself at the next test. Your brother¡¯s probably done with his so you might not see him. Have a nice day, Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc hesitated. He wanted to ask if she knew the name of the Crafter so he could give Delano something to keep him occupied for a few days while he was gone.


    In the end, he decided not to.


    He walked towards the next door, thinking only a class and a skill would be enough to pique Delano¡¯s interest. Any more and it would be too easy for his friend.


    ¡°Hold up. I almost forgot your note.¡±


    Melmarc paused at the door and turned to find Sharon hurrying over to him with brisk steps. She held a black envelope in her hand.


    Everything looked more important in black, classier even. Black paper, black credit card, black cars, black clothes.


    But there was just something ominous about a black envelope.


    What he thought must¡¯ve shown on his face because Sharon chuckled. She had a nice chuckle.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let it get to you.¡± She held up the envelope and waved it around like it was not important. ¡°This is just for your posting. I almost forgot to give it to you.¡±


    She held it out to him, and he took it from her grip.


    ¡°Now, remember. You¡¯re not allowed to open it until you¡¯ve stepped out of the room. No idea why, but I don¡¯t make the rules, I just follow it. There''s also a bit of an ID card in there. It''s a new addition, ever since we started getting people with Unranked growth potentials in different registration centers.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, then tucked the envelope in his back pocket. It was wide enough not to crumple the envelope. He hadn''t known people were walking around with Unranked growth potentials. He would have to give Delano this new piece of information.


    Sharon looked at him with a mild touch of surprise. ¡°You¡¯re not like your brother, huh?¡±


    Melmarc gave a small smile. ¡°I¡¯m his milder version.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you are.¡± Sharon was already walking back to her table. ¡°I almost had to tackle him to stop him from opening his envelope in the room. It¡¯s been a while since I last saw someone so eager to see their posting.¡±


    She stopped at her table, started arranging the contents on top of it.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he was supposed to wait or leave.


    She paused midway through moving a cup of pens from the center to the extreme left, and looked up at him. ¡°In case you¡¯re having any kind of anxiety over where you¡¯re going, you don¡¯t have to. Your mentor is one of the best in the country when it comes to her rating.¡±


    We get to rate our mentors?


    ¡°And she¡¯s nice.¡± Sharon changed her mind and placed the cup of pens on the opposite end. ¡°You¡¯ll like her.¡±


    Melmarc really hoped he would. From what he knew, he would be spending at least three months working with or for her.


    When he stepped out of the room, he was welcomed with the booming sound of a loud crash.


    It sounded like an explosion, and it was coming from his left.


    Isn¡¯t that where she said I should go?


    He stared down the hallway to his left and thought he¡¯d heard someone swear. But that held little interest to him.


    Sharon had said his mentor was a woman, and that she was one of the best. Honestly, as deductive as he could get, the information held nothing he could use to deduce.


    There were as many females Gifted as there were males. And it wasn¡¯t like there was a government ranking for best mentors in the mentorship program to even start guessing from.


    So he put his hand in his back pocket and brought out the envelope.


    Its black exterior was no less ominous than when Sharon had held it out to him.


    Well, here goes nothing.


    He broke the also black seal, and opened the envelope. The information was written on black paper with white ink.


    All it had was a title, a name, and a location.


    Detective Firdausi Alfa. 38, Nuleuvard park, Brooklyn Police Department.


    So I¡¯m going to Brooklyn.


    Brooklyn wasn¡¯t too far from home. But that didn¡¯t hold his attention. He¡¯d been posted to a police department. He would work for the police for the space of three weeks.


    He didn¡¯t know how to react to that. Delano was definitely going to have jokes to crack when he found out.


    Alfa.


    The name sounded very familiar. He¡¯d heard it somewhere before. It was supposed to be important.


    When he pulled out the I.D, he froze. It was green. It had his name on it as well as his basic information. Age. Height. Weight. His attention zeroed in on a wrong piece of information.


    It says I''m six feet and one inch, he thought. I''m five eleven.


    Maybe it had the wrong calculations because he was wearing a shoe. Though he doubted his shoes had two-inch soles. Still, it looked like the glass construct had done more than just reveal his skills. Also, he''d only seen one other person with such an I.D.


    Does that mean Eroms also has an unranked growth potential?


    That was wild.


    What else don''t we know about him? And if he''s registered, then why wasn''t he assigned a mentor?


    Melmarc thought about it and couldn''t reach a conclusion. If Eroms had disappeared for three weeks for a secret mentorship program, he would''ve noticed. Did he get special treatment for being an S-rank?


    Melmarc shelved the thought for another time. He tucked the letter and I.D back into the envelope, then tucked the envelope back into his pocket. He was headed down the hallway when the origin of the name ''Alfa'' came to him.


    Isn¡¯t that The Blight¡¯s last name?

 THIRTY-FOUR: Cerebus Great Grand Daughter

    Melmarc sat, nervous, in a wide waiting room, black envelope in hand.


    Around him was the constant hustle and bustle of men in uniforms and half-dressed men and women, with clothes that either showed too much or hid almost nothing at all. Some men were dragged in with their pants hanging far too low, or wearing singlets that showed off too many tattoos.


    Each time, the men walked or were dragged through glass sliding double doors, and into the building.


    Not for the first time since entering and having his seat, Melmarc wondered just how busy he was going to be for his three weeks mentorship.


    After his registration at the government office, he¡¯d met up with Ark outside.


    Ark had been eager to go home, but Melmarc had stalled him for a bit. It wasn¡¯t the nicest thing of him to do, but he¡¯d taken advantage of his brother¡¯s susceptibility when it came to him.


    There was a part of him that was hoping to see someone.


    When the person that came out, maybe ten minutes after him turned out to be a boy, he was ready to call it and go home.


    ¡°Waiting for someone?¡± Ark had asked in the taxi home. ¡°Made a new friend while I was out?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t even sure he could call her a friend.


    She¡¯d come over to talk to him, and she¡¯d been nice. But she¡¯d also suggested that she¡¯d only done it because of how nervous he¡¯d looked and his constant foot tapping.


    She also has a boyfriend, he¡¯d thought.


    And she was also the daughter of two very powerful people.


    Maybe it¡¯s for the best that I didn¡¯t see her.


    They¡¯d gotten a mail in their emails later that night. It carried basic details of their mentorship program.


    It also carried their government booked flight ticket, their two-day government paid hotel booking, the location of the free shared living apartment they would share with other Gifted who would also be around for their own mentorship program, and a government pre-booked ride to the hotel then to their destination of mentorship.


    The government had spared no expense.


    When Melmarc had walked into the precinct building, he¡¯d made his way straight to the information desk where he¡¯d met a motherly black woman. She was on the corpulent side, with big lips and wide eyes, and her uniform fit her a bit too tight.


    From the way she answered him, it was like talking to an aunt he hadn¡¯t seen in a while but could tell loved him to the moon and back. It was sweet and unnerving to get such a feeling from a stranger.


    ¡°You just sit right there, hun,¡± the lady had said, ¡°and Detective Alfa will be with you in a minute.¡±


    A minute had turned to ten.


    Melmarc¡¯s phone buzzed in his pocket while he was waiting and he pulled it out. He picked and placed it against his ear.


    ¡°Have you met your mentor yet?¡±


    Melmarc smiled at the excitement in the voice. ¡°Not yet, Ark. You?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and it¡¯s awesome.¡±


    Ark had been posted all the way to Utah, to serve under a Delver whose name Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember.


    ¡°He¡¯s got the Gunslinger class,¡± Ark went on. ¡°And he¡¯s big. Like really big. Probably seven feet tall.¡±


    Melmarc doubted the man was that tall, but said nothing. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his brother¡¯s excitement.


    There was a short pause where Ark said something Melmarc didn¡¯t catch to someone.


    It lasted for about a minute before he returned to the phone. ¡°How was your hotel?¡±


    Now that was a conversation Melmarc could get behind.


    He adjusted on his seat, and slipped his envelope into his back pocket. The seat was one of those long four in one metal seats. It had lost its soft padding at some point and was now all metal.


    It was uncomfortable.


    ¡°The hotel was nice. Almost gorged myself on room service between last night and this morning.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Ark laughed. ¡°That¡¯s why they keep calling you the good one. You almost gorged yourself? I gorged the hell out of myself. I ate like a Lord.¡±


    There was a short pause during which Melmarc could just picture his brother¡¯s smile.


    Then Ark finished the statement. ¡°I ate like a Demon Lord.¡±


    Melmarc sighed, but was smiling. ¡°When they tie you to a stake and start burning you, I¡¯ll make sure I¡¯m half-way across the country.¡±


    Ark laughed. ¡°Joke¡¯s on you, Mel. I¡¯ve got fire resistance. And fire control.¡±


    Melmarc peeked over at the officer at the waiting desk. She was preoccupied talking to a couple who looked sad.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Ark said. ¡°Try to gorge yourself when you get back to your room today. It¡¯s your last day before you go to that shared apartment and live with the people that will become your friends for the next three weeks.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure about that. It was the same thing Ark had said about high school, and he¡¯d only ended up with two friends.


    ¡°Alright, Mel. Got to go. Gunslinger¡¯s calling me. Do you know they call him cowboy over here? He walks around with the hat and two gun, and a freaking lasso hanging from his waist. I swear if this is not as fun as he looks, I¡¯m enslaving him when I achieve world dominance.¡±


    Melmarc laughed as his brother hung up the phone. It was good he was making Demon Lord jokes. It proved he was fine.


    I really hope he doesn¡¯t get in trouble for smuggling Spitfire across the country.


    There were no rules against familiars since the only familiars apart from Dragon-knight¡¯s dragon were summons.


    It had been Ark¡¯s argument when he was packing Spitfire. The demon had been surprisingly calm when he¡¯d smuggled it into a box of his own with a few clothes and told it not to make a sound.


    Melmarc had worried for the creature¡¯s discomfort, but it didn¡¯t seem to mind.


    Maybe I should¡¯ve asked about it, he thought.


    Melmarc waited another few minutes. At some point it was beginning to feel like the nice lady at the front desk had completely forgotten about him. Maybe she was even ignoring him.


    But Melmarc didn¡¯t want to think that way. She had been very amiable. And she¡¯d had very little time to herself since he¡¯d been directed to sit and wait.


    Maybe she thinks I¡¯m just here for the sake of being here?


    That wasn¡¯t right. He¡¯d handed her his envelope with the letter and everything. She had to know he was a Gifted here for a mentorship program.


    Don¡¯t they get a lot of Gifted for mentorship programs?


    It was a legitimate worry. There were police departments that didn¡¯t have a Gifted department. No detectives to handle Gifted related problems or the likes. At times like that, they either solicited help from the nearest precincts that did, or contracted with any resident Gifted they felt met the criteria for the job.


    Precincts like that wouldn¡¯t have Gifted coming in for mentorship programs since there were no Gifted to mentor them.


    But this precinct had Detective Alfa. She was popular for her work as a Gifted detective, and had done a year as a Delver before joining the force.


    She was popular enough that if she had moved to a new precinct, the internet would know. But Melmarc didn¡¯t, and he hadn¡¯t checked.


    What if this was, in fact, a new precinct. What if she was their first Gifted detective and the nice lady at the front desk really didn¡¯t know what to do with him, and had just called the next best person who was now taking forever to arrive.


    He unlocked his phone and went straight for the internet.


    Nope, I¡¯m right.


    Detective Alfa hadn¡¯t changed precincts. This was where she worked out of and had been working out of for the past few years.


    Melmarc raised his head from his phone and looked at the lady at the waiting desk. Now he was feeling odd.


    He watched her for a whole minute during which she answered only one person before going back to her computer.


    Not once did she even glance at him accidentally. And while he might be far from her, he was still in her line of sight. You¡¯d think she¡¯d be checking up on the teenager she told to have a seat.


    Another ten minutes later, Melmarc was tired of waiting. And was slightly frustrated. The lady had kept him seated for almost thirty minutes without a single update or acknowledgement that she was still aware of his presence.


    Melmarc got up from his uncomfortable seat and made his way to her.


    She was currently talking to two teenagers so he stood behind them, creating a queue that had never been there before. From the little he caught, the teenagers, both male, were reporting a stolen phone.


    The lady was as amiable to with them as she had been with him. Her questions were quick and concise. She gathered as much details as she could in as short an amount of time as she could.


    ¡°One last thing,¡± she said to both boys with a smile. ¡°Are any of you Gifted?¡±


    Melmarc was puzzled. That was an odd question to be asking people when they were reporting a missing phone. What did being Gifted had to do with anything phone related?


    ¡°It¡¯s just a routine question when we get reports like this,¡± she said with a gentle smile. ¡°It helps the police narrow down a few searches, prevents redundancy.¡±


    That puzzled Melmarc more. What did redundancy have to do with anything?


    One of the boy¡¯s nodded. ¡°I¡¯m Gifted. I got registered last year.¡±


    ¡°Mhm.¡± The lady typed away at her computer. ¡°Alright. Just wanted to get it all in.¡±


    She turned and did something Melmarc couldn¡¯t catch from behind the boys, then handed them a piece of paper.


    ¡°Come back in two days and use the second entrance. Give them this when you come back. It¡¯s the code to your case file. You should have a result by then.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about the whole thing. In fact, she was still so nice and worked that he was worried that coming up to her would somehow intrude on her work.


    If the envelope had come with a way to contact Detective Alfa, this entire process would¡¯ve been a whole lot easier.


    When the boys walked towards the exit, Melmarc occupied their space.


    ¡°Uhmm, excuse me.¡± He brought his envelope from his back pocket again. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for a while now, and I just wanted to know if¡ª¡±


    ¡°Thalisa!¡± someone bellowed angrily. ¡°Thalisa!¡±


    The lady smiled at Melmarc and he noted a touch of satisfaction in it. ¡°Oh, here comes someone to take you now. Do have a wonderful rest of your time.¡±


    She turned back to her computer, and it was as if he never even existed.


    A lady with short blonde hair stepped in from behind a pair of sliding double-doors that led deeper into the building.


    She wore a brown trench coat over casual clothes.


    Melmarc watched her approach from behind the transparent doors. When she got to the doors, they opened on their own, and she walked through without pause.


    When she got to Melmarc and the lady, she came to a halt.


    ¡°Do you have one of my people waiting out here, Thalisa?¡±


    She was staring angrily at the lady so Melmarc felt it was safe to assume that the corpulent lady was Thalisa.


    Thalisa looked up at her. ¡°I¡¯ve not kept any of your people waiting, detective.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw almost dropped.


    He had been waiting. He¡¯d been waiting for thirty minutes.


    The lady groaned in annoyance. ¡°I swear to God, Thalisa. One of these days a police officer is going to shoot you in the back.¡±


    Thalisa snorted, all her friendliness gone. ¡°That¡¯s why I never turn my back around your lot.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw did drop this time. He didn¡¯t want to believe he was witnessing what he thought he was witnessing.


    The detective opened her mouth to say more, then looked at Melmarc as if noticing him for the first time.


    Her eyes panned down to the envelope in his hand, and her face turned livid. ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake!¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if she was angry at him, the envelope, or Thalisa. One thing he did know was that she definitely didn¡¯t hide her emotions.


    ¡°How long have you been waiting, kid? I take it you¡¯re Melmarc Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I am. And I¡¯ve been here for like thirty minutes.¡±


    The detective turned a scowl on Thalisa. ¡°And why didn¡¯t anyone come get me?¡±


    Thalisa looked up, as if seeing Melmarc for the first time. ¡°He¡¯s one of yours? How was I supposed to know? Everyone knows that you use the other entrance for every Gifted related issues.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. He¡¯d shown her the envelope. Told her he was here to meet the detective in the Gifted department. She¡¯d read the envelope.


    Was he missing something?


    The detective looked like she was going to pop a vein. She snatched the envelope from Melmarc¡¯s hand and practically shoved it in Thalisa¡¯s face.


    ¡°How many fucking teenagers do you know that come into this precinct holding a black fucking envelope.¡± She closed the envelope so that the broken seal, slowly worn out from age, was almost as one. ¡°How many of them have the fucking seal of the Department of Gifted Affairs?¡±


    Her voice was loud enough that some of the officers going about their day had stopped to look.


    Thalisa looked at the envelope and shrugged. ¡°I had no idea what it was. It was just an envelope with a broken old seal. I thought it could¡¯ve been anything.¡±


    At this point, Melmarc just wanted to be done. He wanted to take his envelope and be led to Detective Alfa. He hoped the lady with them was Detective Alfa. He hadn¡¯t seen a picture of her before, or if he had, it was so long ago that he couldn¡¯t remember it.


    ¡°You know what, Thalisa?¡± the detective handed Melmarc back his envelope. ¡°Fuck you! And I hope you stub your toe and get teethed by a thug.¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Thalisa smirked. ¡°That¡¯s verbal abuse, detective Alfa. You could get written up for it.¡±


    Alfa clicked her tongue and turned away. ¡°Good luck with that.¡±


    That one got a frown out of Thalisa. ¡°You better prepare your defense, bitch. I¡¯m going to be filing a report for this.¡±


    Alfa gave her the middle finger. ¡°File it where the sun don¡¯t shine.¡± Then she turned to Melmarc. ¡°Come with me, Lockwood.¡±


    When she headed for the glass doors, Melmarc followed behind her.


    The doors opened for them and they walked through. The detective led him down a clean hallway and they avoided uniformed officers and felons in cuffs. They cut through a room full of cubicles and countless stacks of papers with a multitude of people just trying to get through the day.


    The detective ignored everyone, returning greetings only when greetings were offered.


    Melmarc followed, all the while wondering about what had just happened. He knew there were people who discriminated against the Gifted, but he hadn¡¯t thought he¡¯d be witnessing a scenario so soon. Or become the victim of one.


    His curiosity got the better of him, and when the detective led them into a less populated hallway, flanked by white walls, he spoke.


    ¡°She seemed nice in the beginning.¡±


    He didn¡¯t have to explain, because the detective replied. ¡°Snakes seem nice in the beginning when they look like nothing more than green grass.¡±


    ¡°Is she having a bad day?¡± he asked, hoping for a positive response but not expecting one.


    The detective snorted. ¡°Any day a Gifted arrives in front of her is her bad day. She¡¯s a Gifted-hater, through and through.¡±


    They got to a new set of doors and Alfa stopped with a hand on one of the doors. It felt like they were about to head into a completely different part of the precinct building.


    ¡°The only reason she still has a job here is because she¡¯s the daughter of some douche who knows some douche that probably slept with some douche.¡±


    That¡¯s a lot of douches.


    Alfa pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and let out a calming breath.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t fair. I¡¯m sure the people she knows could easily be good people. No reason to believe everyone she knows and the people they know are douches.¡±


    She turned to him and held out her hand. ¡°Sorry for the late introduction. I¡¯m Detective Firdausi Alfa, and I¡¯ll be your superior mentor for the duration of your internship with us.¡±


    Melmarc shook her hand. It was a bit small in his, but she was also shorter than him, so it wasn¡¯t too surprising. ¡°Melmarc Lockwood. I¡¯ll be in your care.¡±


    Alfa shook it once, dropped it, and looked at him funny. ¡°Na?ve and polite. I¡¯ll really miss that when your internship is over.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to react to that, so he opted for something he just remembered.


    ¡°Two boys came in earlier to report a stolen phone,¡± he told her. ¡°When the lady at the desk finished getting their statement, she asked if they were Gifted.¡±


    Alfa sighed. ¡°One of them was, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°She gave them something on a paper and told them to come back in two days and use the second entrance. She said it was their case ID.¡±


    Alfa nodded as he spoke.


    When he was done, she ran a hand through her hair. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you want to know if their case will be worked on or want to see if there¡¯s a way we can make sure it is.¡±


    Melmarc nodded again.


    ¡°Sorry to disappoint you, Lockwood, but there isn¡¯t. Thalisa probably deleted their entire statement the moment she found out one of them was Gifted. Whatever she gave them was probably random numbers. When they come back, they¡¯ll end up with us and we¡¯ll have to do damage control and pretend and ask questions all over again.¡±


    She let out a tired sigh. ¡°That woman just keeps giving us more work than we deserve.¡±


    For a moment, Alfa looked older than the thirty-five years the internet claimed she was. Melmarc felt bad for her.


    She could really do without all the excess work. From what he knew about Gifted detectives, they weren¡¯t really detectives. They were a legal form of super heroes. They went to active crime scenes where the culprit was breaking boulders with their bare hands or flipping cars over with summoned waves of water. He could still remember a case from years back where the criminal had been terrorizing the town with summoned familiars that looked like dinosaurs.


    The police force had lost eight Gifted detectives that night before bringing him under control.


    People had begged to have the criminal killed in the most brutal way possible, but the government had taken a strong stance against it. They said that was vengeance, and that despite the losses, their duty was to uphold justice not exact vengeance.


    Detective Alfa pushed the doors open.


    Melmarc was introduced to a completely different place. He was sure they were still in the same building as he walked in behind the detective. The floors were made of black tiles and polished to a reflective shine.


    The walls were the same white as the ones outside, but these were spotlessly clean. Either those who worked in this part of the building were extremely clean or they had the entire place maintained regularly.


    As Alfa led Melmarc he had a question in mind.


    ¡°What do you mean superior mentor?¡±


    Alfa gave a simple shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. All you mentees have the same question when you first come in.¡±


    Melmarc did his best not to worry about it. Chances were he would find out what it meant eventually. Left to him, he thought it was like a program where he would report to someone else who would in turn report to her.


    After a short, silent stroll through the empty hallway and through another set of double doors, Alfa chuckled.


    ¡°I swear you¡¯re worse than the others.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Friendly piece of advice.¡± Alfa gave him a quick look. ¡°Never play poker. I don¡¯t think you can hide your expression to save your life. If you¡¯re really that curious, I¡¯ll just explain how it works. The others have been around for a while so I think it¡¯ll just bore them to hear it all over again.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think he was really that curious about what a superior mentor was, but he wasn¡¯t going to turn down a free explanation.


    It turned out that he was right. Detective Alfa was a superior detective which meant she had a team of her own that reported to her. So she couldn¡¯t go around mentoring everybody. And every month she had at least nine mentees assigned to her.


    So they¡¯d created a system. She was the superior mentor, while those that reported to her played the role of the base mentor. The Gifted were coupled with one of the detectives that reported to her and the detective would give her whatever feedback they felt was necessary.


    It didn¡¯t mean that she was out of the picture, however. If a Gifted had an issue with their buddied mentor, her door was always open to hear them out. And if a mentor felt something was not working right, he reported the situation to her and she would step in for whatever reason.


    The summary of what he and the other Gifted he was yet to meet would be doing didn¡¯t seem so bad. The detectives often went on patrols, and they were required to head out with them.


    Melmarc would be Melmarc Lockwood, junior detective. And he would get his own badge and everything.


    In situations where there was a Gifted crime, depending on the scale they would be required to play damage control. While whatever detective or detectives were present, the Gifted mentees would ensure civilian safety. They would make sure no one was killed by falling debris or misfired skills or civilian sheer stupidity.


    Based on his class and skills, he might be required to take on some extra tasks. But Alfa assured him that he had nothing to worry about on that note.


    ¡°Most extra tasks usually involve visiting CI¡¯s who are too low in the chain of importance or their handlers just find annoying.¡±


    Alfa didn¡¯t seem bothered by it so Melmarc wasn¡¯t. Though he felt that warranted a bit more worry. If confidential informants were anything like they were in the movies, maybe he should be worried.


    When not under important work for the Gifted department, they would be allowed to go on patrol with the police officers that roamed the streets.


    As unheard of as it was, according to Alfa, there were often scenarios where officers on patrol ran into active crimes only to find out that one or two of the culprits were Gifted. Popularly, they turned out to be in the F to D ranks.


    But despite how weak those ranks seemed to a Gifted, they remained deadly enough to those without classes.


    Melmarc had worries as they finally stepped into a busy room. It was the size of a normal detective office with a few tables and a lot of papers. There were people seated at desks having different conversations.


    The floor was the same marble black, polished to a reflective shine this section of the precinct building had everywhere. The walls were a pristine white. The only mess in the large room was the papers stacked haphazardly on the desks.


    Melmarc and Alfa stepped onto a raised platform as they walked through the door. It was guarded by a balustrade that went down on both sides where there were stairs that came down to normal ground level.


    One of the men, a blonde raised his hands in greeting to Alfa and she ignored him.


    As they walked down, Melmarc presented his worries. Alfa had an answer for each one.


    What happened in dangerous situations when a Gifted wasn¡¯t physically powerful enough to withstand heavy damage?


    Such a situation would be a careless miscalculation on the part of the detective in charge of the Gifted. According to her, as long as the Gifted gave honest responses regarding what they were capable of, they would be assigned accordingly.


    ¡°It would be stupid to give an Intelligence type a job for a Strength type. Imagine giving a Weaver of gas the job of a Beastmaster. I¡¯d sue myself if I was guilty of that. And my husband won¡¯t let me live it down.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d mentioned her husband to see how he would react to it or if it was merely a simple sentence her husband just happened to be a part of.


    Unsure of which one it was, he said nothing on that. Instead, he posited his other worry. It was less a worry and more a curiosity.


    ¡°What happens if a portal opens when we¡¯re on a job?¡±


    Alfa paused halfway down the short stairs and looked at him. ¡°You obviously do not enter it.¡±


    That was obvious enough. At least Melmarc thought it was. He might¡¯ve waited a little too close to danger on their school trip in case his help was needed, but he wasn¡¯t so in a hurry to help that he would enter a portal just like that.


    I¡¯m not stupid.


    When his silence lasted long enough, Alfa added: ¡°There are protocols in place for such scenarios. They are rare since most portals only open in unpopulated areas. But they are not unheard of.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the protocol?¡± Melmarc was standing on the same step she was and couldn¡¯t help but notice just how much of a difference in height he had on her.


    She barely came up to his shoulders.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said, then resumed her descent, forcing him to follow, ¡°in situations like that, you will have a communication device you will use to report to your superior. Now, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re one of those Gifted who are aware of when a portal opens, but if you are, then you will have the extra task of alerting your superior when you sense one.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t really see the benefit of that. There were too many Gifted who had the awareness, if he was to believe uncle Dorthna so he didn¡¯t see the point to it. And even if there weren¡¯t that many in the precinct, what was the benefit of him alerting his superior? They were part of the law enforcement but they were not Delvers.


    They had no business entering portals.


    ¡°And before you ask why.¡± Alfa stepped on ground level and took a detour towards one of the table, ¡°please understand that a portal could always appear right smack in the middle of a residential area. Or some fool could wander over to where a portal was and decide to be a fool about it.¡±


    Melmarc knew a few stories about such a situation. There was a man in Alaska who¡¯d wandered too close to a portal.


    A portal¡¯s effect on normal people varied very greatly. Gifted were not affected by its presence, but normal people could experience odd phenomenon ranging from a temporary skill or class to instant death.


    The man from Alaska had allegedly frozen to death instantly.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how much of the story was true, but there was a frozen sculpture oddly resembling a man at Alaska so maybe there was an actual story there.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Alfa said, pointing at an enclosed office on the other side of the room. ¡°We''re this way.¡±


    Melmarc looked around them as he followed her. There were grown men and women living through the hustle and bustle of life. But there were also teenagers hovering around, doing one or two things or simply staring.


    ¡°I thought this was where we were heading.¡±


    Alfa made a dismissive gesture. ¡°Not at all. Everyone in this room is Gifted, but most of your mates you see aren¡¯t here for the mentorship program. Just simple internships.¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    The enclosed office turned out to be a miniature conference room which wasn¡¯t much different in design from what Melmarc was now beginning to call the Gifted department of the precinct.


    It had a large oval table with sixteen seats that were currently occupied by nine people. Among them were five people who were his age and the remaining four who clearly worked in the department.


    Each of the detectives wore casual clothes, simple, with their badges hanging on them in different ways. Some wore theirs around their neck, dangling from a chain while others had it strapped to their belts.


    Of the four, one man stood out. He wore an entire three-piece suit, complete with a black hat and stared uninterestingly at his phone.


    Melmarc took note of the teenagers in the room as he walked in. Two girls were in the midst of three boys. One of the boys looked Asian. He had a buzz cut and wore glasses. Another looked like a typical jock in high school. The third had dark skin looked like he didn''t have enough room to sit comfortably.


    His height reminded Melmarc of Eroms while his width reminded him of Delano. Too tall for his weight.


    One of the girl¡¯s had her hair held back in a pony tail. She had deep black hair and was smiling at her phone as if she¡¯d just heard something funny.


    The other girl had dark skin and sat with a certain level of discomfort. She had a round face and wore her hair in short braids that stopped at her shoulders.


    She was the only one who¡¯d been watching the door even before they stepped in.


    There was a lectern at the head of the room, just at the wall near the entrance, and everyone sat facing it. Alfa walked up to it and stood behind it.


    Melmarc stood at the door at first, after closing it behind him. He wasn¡¯t sure if he was supposed to take a sit.


    After a beat, Alfa gestured for him to join her.


    He did.


    ¡°Alright everyone,¡± she addressed the rest of the room. ¡°I¡¯m sorry we had to have such a long pause as I¡¯m sure most of you have cases you need to get back to, and shenanigans you would rather be involved in than this.¡±


    One of the detectives raised his hand. He looked in his late thirties to early forties with receding hairlines.


    ¡°Why¡¯s the kid late?¡±


    ¡°He ran into Cerebus¡¯ great grand daughter,¡± Alfa said easily, not even trying to hide her disgust.


    The detectives in the room let out easy laughs while the teenagers remained quiet. It seemed Thalisa¡¯s discrimination wasn¡¯t new to anybody.


    ¡°Which one?¡± another detective asked. She was a Hispanic woman with her badge pinned to the left breast of her brown leather jacket.


    ¡°Thalisa.¡±


    There was cheering among the seated detective and Melmarc watched money switch hands for a moment.


    Had they suspected that he was late because of what had happened.


    ¡°I really thought Mercy was manning the waiting room today,¡± one of them grumbled. He looked like the youngest of them. ¡°I saw her at the table earlier today when I went to get a file from Janet.¡±


    ¡°Alright, everyone.¡± Alfa knocked on the lectern to get their attention. ¡°Simmer down. We¡¯ve got our last mentee with us so we can all continue. It¡¯s unfortunate since I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve picked out the teams you want already, but we¡¯ll have to go again.¡±


    A detective raised his hand.


    ¡°Yes, Nan.¡±


    ¡°We actually haven¡¯t,¡± Nan said. ¡°Everyone wanted the Warrior, so it kind of ended up in a bit of a clusterfuck.¡±


    Alfa¡¯s eyes moved to the tall dark skinned boy, and Melmarc assumed he was the Warrior. He couldn¡¯t blame them for the disagreement. The Warrior class was a strength type and was one of the best classes to have in a combat situation. Their class alone gave them extra points to Strength, Agility, and Dexterity.


    They were a versatile class strictly designed for combat situations.


    Truthfully, Melmarc had expected it to be the jock.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Alfa said after a moment. ¡°Then I guess there¡¯s no worries. So, for the sake of our liberated new colleague, I will ask that we re-introduce ourselves.¡±


    There was a groan from one of the detectives that was pointedly ignored by everyone.


    Melmarc stood beside Alfa while the detectives introduced themselves. No one stood up or did anything really coordinated. Each detective simply raised their hands, gave their name, class and rank.


    It turned out that two of the detectives were C-ranks, one was a D-rank and one was a B-rank with a Class that wasn¡¯t combat related in any way. Their classes weren¡¯t unique but they were sufficient for the job and only one was a strength type. Two were Agility types.


    The teenagers were a completely different set.


    ¡°Name¡¯s Jeremy,¡± the one that looked like a jock said easily. ¡°I¡¯m an A-rank Lancer.¡±


    That was already off to a good start. An A-rank was an amazing rank by any standard. That the precinct already had one meant that a lot of the detectives would already be eyeing him.


    The Asian boy raised his hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m Takeda. C-rank Marksman.¡±


    Marksmen were similar to Gunslingers. Their class gave them an edge in ranged combats. They were especially deadly with guns¡­ obviously.


    The dark-skinned girl went next. She gave a wide smile that showed her teeth and had a touch of embarrassment in it.


    ¡°Olatunji Oluwakpelumi.¡± She said her name slowly. ¡°Oluwakpelumi is spelt with a P and no K. I¡¯m a B-rank Invoker.¡±


    That was a lot to take in. For starters Melmarc took a moment to wrap his mind around how her name was pronounced. How was there supposed to be a ¡®P¡¯ and no ¡®K¡¯ when she pronounced it as if the two letters worked side by side? Then he took in her frame. She was on the smaller side with even proportions. She was full but he wouldn¡¯t call her athletic. But he wouldn¡¯t call her skinny either.


    For some reason, though, he hadn¡¯t expected her to have an Intelligence based Class.


    When she dropped her hand, the second girl raised hers.


    ¡°Samantha. C-rank Caster.¡±


    The tall boy in the warrior class went last. Even seated, anyone could tell he was tall. He had the long legs to show.


    ¡°De¡¯andre. B-rank Warrior.¡±


    Melmarc turned to Alfa when everyone was done. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was expecting, but he was expecting something.


    ¡°I¡¯m a B-rank Enchanter,¡± she told him unceremoniously. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    Melmarc was suddenly nervous. His palms were beginning to feel sweaty, even though he knew they weren¡¯t. He was reliving his worry of how he would be received when they heard his class.


    They¡¯ll either like me or they won¡¯t, he concluded. Nothing I can do about it. And I can always put in for a redeployment if it gets bad.


    He placed his hands behind him, clasped them together. ¡°I¡¯m Melmarc Lockwood. B-rank Faker.¡±


    He watched the expressions go through the people in front of him and almost winced. A lot of things could be said about their reactions, but one thing was certain: They weren¡¯t very pleased to be working with a Faker.


    Well, except the man in the three-piece suit. He actually looked up from his phone at Melmarc¡¯s introduction. A smile split his face and he slipped the phone into his pocket.


    He sat forward and placed his forearms on the conference table, suddenly interested.


    Melmarc tried to remember his class and rank.


    Isn¡¯t he a B-rank Sage?


    Melmarc dug around in his head for what the Sage class was capable of. One of the things he could remember was that almost all Sages had eidetic memories. They could remember everything they¡¯d ever seen or heard or experienced in anyway.


    It wasn¡¯t much of a superpower in a sense, but it was at a level people were terming manaric. They could even remember the form of someone¡¯s skill. Whatever that was.


    Apparently, someone¡¯s skill having a form was a Sage thing.


    Alfa took over the meeting almost immediately.


    ¡°Alright, then. We¡¯ll be doing things a little differently this time around,¡± she announced.


    ¡°What do you mean differently, Boss?¡± Tony, the detective with the receding hairline asked.


    He was a C-rank Ranger.


    ¡°Usually we draw lots or make our picks in order of accomplishments for the year.¡± Alfa folded her arms over her chest. ¡°This time, however, the picks will be random.¡±


    ¡°Oh God, no,¡± Ximena groaned. She was the only D-rank.


    ¡°Oh God, yes,¡± Alfa replied sarcastically. ¡°Now, I don¡¯t have to explain why I¡¯m doing this, do I?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think she needed to. Obviously, if she allowed them pick, he was going to end up being that kid that was picked last and reluctantly on the sports field. The one no one wanted but someone had to grudgingly accept.


    He was actually grateful for Alfa¡¯s idea. But he also wasn¡¯t very sure he wanted to be working with someone who would feel like he¡¯d been forced on them.


    Not like I have a choice.


    He was already drafting his letter of appeal to the government for a redeployment in his head.


    The man in the three-piece suit drummed his fingers against the conference table, drawing everyone¡¯s attention. He¡¯d introduced himself as Naymond Hitchcock.


    ¡°You have something to say, Nay?¡± Alfa asked.


    ¡°As a matter of fact, I do.¡± He stopped drumming his fingers on the table. ¡°How about I get first pick? I promise everyone will be happier for it. And if they are, I get a second pick as a reward.¡±


    He looked between everyone as if waiting for their permission and not Alfa¡¯s.


    ¡°You don¡¯t get to pick, though. Remember?¡± Alfa said. ¡°I assign you a mentee, and you work with them. That¡¯s how this works for you.¡±


    ¡°Besides,¡± Ximena said, looking back at Naymond. ¡°Don¡¯t you hate having mentees? If I remember correctly, you said they were like overgrown puppies without the cuteness.¡±


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°What can I say, people change. So what do you all say? We¡¯re a democratic country so let¡¯s be democratic.¡±


    The other detectives turned to Alfa.


    Alfa sighed.


    ¡°All of you remember that he¡¯s only a consultant, right?¡± she asked, as if simply for the sake of asking.


    Melmarc looked at Naymond again and realized he was the only one without a badge on display.


    Did he not have one?


    Naymond wiggled his brows at Alfa. ¡°What¡¯s it going to be, detective? We can solve the equation of the elephant in the room with just one word.¡±


    Melmarc found himself hoping Alfa was a democratic leader. He wasn¡¯t sure why she was so hesitant about allowing Naymond pick. In fact, something told him it was for a good reason. But at least Naymond looked like he wanted him. It was far better than working with someone who didn¡¯t¡­ right?


    Please say yes.


    Alfa bowed her head in defeat. ¡°Alright, yes. But you only get a second pick if everyone¡¯s pleased with the first. I was going to saddle two of you with two mentees anyway.¡±


    Naymond clapped once in theatric satisfaction. ¡°Then I¡¯ll be more than happy to have Mr. Lockwood on my side. Does this please the room?¡±


    There was a chorus of agreement from the other detectives.


    ¡°Good.¡± Naymond smiled widely. ¡°And for my next trick¡­¡±


    Alfa groaned.


    ¡°¡­I¡¯ll have dear Ms. Olatunji Oluwapelumi without the K.¡± He said the name too easily for someone who had just heard the name for the first time.


    Judging from the surprise on the girl¡¯s face, it was safe to say they didn¡¯t know each other.


    For some reason, as pleased as he was to work with someone who actually wanted him, Melmarc couldn''t shake the bad feeling that was slowly creeping up on him.


    I''m sure it''s nothing.


    At least he hoped it was nothing.

 THIRTY-FIVE: The Office

    ¡°My most amazing Faker!¡± Naymond said with theatrical excitement as the other detectives flocked out of the room with their mentees. ¡°You have no idea just how motivated I am to finally have a Faker in my employ.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not in your employ,¡± Alfa said.


    Apart from Naymond, the African girl whose name Melmarc felt bad for already forgetting, and himself, Alfa was the only one left.


    Alfa walked away from the lectern and stood with them. ¡°He¡¯s under my employ. And so are you. That makes you colleagues.¡±


    Naymond gave her an exaggerated pout. ¡°Does that mean I don¡¯t get to boss him around?¡±


    Alfa looked like a new mother with an overactive child.


    ¡°It means that you only get to order him within reason, and he can intentionally choose to disobey you as long as your orders are not within reason.¡± She pointed an angry finger at him. ¡°And I need that report on my desk by this evening.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve already¡ª¡±


    ¡°And don¡¯t lie about having already started it,¡± she cut him off. ¡°Remember that part of your contract is that I have unlimited access to your work station.¡±


    Naymond gave her a bright smile. ¡°I apologize, detective. I¡¯ll get started on it right away. Also, does asking Mr. Lockwood over here to do the report fall under unreasonable orders?¡±


    Alfa looked at Melmarc. ¡°How much do you know about distortion in space-time mana cracks and its effects on E-rank Gifted?¡±


    The answer was quite simple for Melmarc. He didn¡¯t even understand the bone of the question. In summary, he knew nothing.


    Alfa turned back to Naymond. ¡°The look on the kid¡¯s face says that it would be an unreasonable order.¡±


    With that, she stepped out of the room.


    Naymond sighed. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to work on your poker face, kid.¡±


    He patted Melmarc on the side of the arm assuringly, then turned to the only other person in the room with them.


    ¡°Ms. Oluwapelumi.¡± He was as theatrical as he¡¯d been since he¡¯d lost interest in his phone. ¡°How have you been? I take it you haven¡¯t been with us long. And by us I mean the country.¡±


    The girl nodded. ¡°And you can call me Pelumi. Most people do.¡±


    Again she pronounced it as Kpe-lu-mi.


    ¡°And that¡¯s with a P and no K, correct?¡± Naymond asked and she nodded. He turned to Melmarc and laughed. ¡°Isn¡¯t that fascinating.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to know how Naymond knew she was new in the country. Was it the accent?


    It was clearly African, but he didn¡¯t know enough about the world to know which of the countries in Africa.


    Naymond leaned into his line of sight and whispered, ¡°What you got on your mind, kid?¡±


    ¡°Wondering what part of Africa she¡¯s from,¡± he answered, then added more appropriately: ¡°She¡¯s from Africa, right? I didn¡¯t get it wrong.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± Pelumi answered.


    Naymond held his arms out wide and twirled out of the room. ¡°Pelumi from Nigeria. The land of the SS-rank Unbound.¡±


    Melmarc was surprised by that. He didn¡¯t think he knew anybody from Nigeria. Delano and Eroms were part Nigerian, but that was like their great-great-grandparents or something. It was why they had the names but didn¡¯t look a single bit African.


    Pelumi stared at Naymond as he waited for them outside the conference room. After a while, she turned and offered Melmarc a handshake.


    ¡°I came for school two years ago, my family relocated last year,¡± she said. ¡°So I¡¯m relatively new. I¡¯m sure my accent is what gave it away. Everyone says I sound too Nigerian. Like I¡¯m supposed to sound like something else.¡±


    Melmarc shook her hand. ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t offended by my ignorance.¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡±


    She released his hand and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. ¡°I also hope you don¡¯t get offended if I make a mistake with your name.¡±


    ¡°I could give you my English name if you¡¯d like.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it. ¡°What do you like to be called?¡±


    ¡°Pelumi.¡±


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll do my best to pronounce it properly.¡±


    She tilted her head, looked at him from a different angle. ¡°You¡¯re a fun one, Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please no.¡± Melmarc groaned. ¡°Just call me Melmarc. My friends call me Marc.¡±


    ¡°Does anyone call you Mel?¡±


    ¡°Yea, but just family members.¡±


    Pelumi tapped a thoughtful finger to her lips. ¡°I see. Marc it is.¡±


    Just outside the door, Naymond clapped once. ¡°Are you kids done getting to know each other? If yes, may we vacate to my office.¡±


    Surprisingly none of the people in the large office space with the assemblage of work tables paid them much attention as they walked all the way to Naymond¡¯s office.


    When they got to the office, Naymond turned a key in the lock and opened it. He didn¡¯t go inside immediately, though. Instead, he stood at the door for a second or two, then stepped in.


    Melmarc and Pelumi followed after him.


    ¡°Now, you must both be wondering why I chose you.¡± Naymond strolled behind a table with stacks of papers and a really wide monitor and plopped himself down on the office chair.


    It was a swivel chair and he spun on it. When his rotation finished and he was facing them again, he was met with confused looks.


    ¡°You do not give a man a swivel chair and expect him not to swivel,¡± he said. ¡°Now close the door and have a seat.¡±


    Melmarc closed the door, and Pelumi went to sit on one of two chairs on their side of his table.


    ¡°Should I open the blinds?¡± Melmarc asked.


    The blinds sheltered the only window in the office with which anyone could see inside or outside.


    ¡°It¡¯s interesting that you¡¯d ask that, but leave it closed. I¡¯m not a big fan of them.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, and took the seat beside Pelumi. There was a couch just at the window, but it didn¡¯t feel professional to use it.


    ¡°As I was saying,¡± Naymond said, then spun around again. ¡°Even if our dearest Pelumi isn¡¯t wondering, I¡¯m sure you are, Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc was.


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯ll be more than happy to tell you¡­ one day. But that day is not today. Today, I¡¯ll put you through the motions of what exactly I do.¡± He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed it carelessly on the already overfilled table. ¡°I am something of a profiler, and a Gifted analyst.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re interested in people?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡°Not at all, love.¡± Naymond chuckled, still tapping away on his keyboard. ¡°I¡¯m interested in the Gifted. Ah! There it is.¡±


    He peeked at Melmarc from around the corner of his moniter. ¡°That¡¯s interesting.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like the conversational context with which the phrase was used.


    He tried not to seem bothered. ¡°What¡¯s interesting, detective Hitchcock?¡±


    ¡°Please, call me Nay. My father was Hitchcock, and I¡¯m not a detective. And as for what I find very interesting, it¡¯s your skills. I haven¡¯t seen someone with [Knowledge Is Power] in forever.¡±


    ¡°You have access to our files?¡± Pelumi asked, surprised.


    Naymond laughed. ¡°Oh gods, no. Your government wouldn¡¯t be that reckless. Detective Alfa, has access to your files. And I have access to Detective Alfa¡¯s computer.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re hacking it from here through the office network?¡± Pelumi asked, a little impressed.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that breaking some office rule somehow?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°It is.¡± Naymond didn¡¯t stop typing. ¡°But I¡¯m doing no such thing. So that¡¯s not the rule I¡¯m breaking.¡±


    Melmarc paused at that. ¡°Why did you say that¡¯s not the rule you¡¯re breaking?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re not breaking that rule,¡± Pelumi said. ¡°Then what rule are you breaking?¡±


    ¡°Ooh. [Bless Your Kindness] is a treat.¡± For someone breaking a rule, Naymond didn¡¯t seem very bothered. ¡°So [Bless Your Kindness] and [Knowledge Is Power] gave you Faker. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen anyone with those two skills together. And I¡¯ve seen a lot of people.¡±


    Melmarc looked back at the still closed blinds. Wouldn¡¯t people want to be able to see what¡¯s happening outside their office?


    Yes, there were people who wouldn¡¯t, but something just felt wrong.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock?¡± Pelumi sounded worried.


    ¡°Please call me Nay.¡±


    ¡°Nay, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on is this.¡± Naymond picked up his phone and looked at it. ¡°We¡¯ve got less than eight minutes for me to find your file and see what you¡¯re capable of.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re looking for my skills, I could just tell you.¡±


    ¡°You could. But you¡¯ve been deployed to learn under a Gifted who¡¯s a detective. Thus, you¡¯ve been deployed to gain detective skills. So lesson number one, don¡¯t believe everything your subject tells you. Ah, there it is.¡± He dropped his phone back on the table. ¡°Wow, that one¡¯s a doozy.¡±


    Pelumi looked down and away. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if she was embarrassed or flustered.


    ¡°[Wrath of Amadioha] is a very rare skill,¡± Naymond mused. ¡°And it¡¯s one of those skills that are common to tribes and ethnicities. Tell me, our beautiful Invoker, just how did a Yoruba girl like you get a skill most commonly linked to powerful chief priests of the Igbo tribes?¡±


    Pelumi said nothing. Now, she was beginning to seem uncomfortable.


    ¡°Mr. Hitch¡ªNaymond,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Can you please stop?¡±


    Naymond looked around the monitor at Pelumi. She kept her eyes looking at everything else but them and the monitor.


    ¡°In fairness. I didn¡¯t think this through. It is odd, though,¡± he mused almost to himself. ¡°You¡¯re the Faker but she¡¯s the one with issues having her skills found out about. Anyway, detective lesson number two.¡±


    When Pelumi returned her attention to Naymond, Melmarc was glad. She seemed alright now.


    ¡°As a detective,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°You should always be aware of your surroundings. All detectives know that.¡±


    He tapped a few buttons on the keyboard and got up.


    He gave Pelumi a sincere bow. ¡°I know it might not mean much, but I do apologize for the inconvenience.¡±


    Melmarc was looking around the room now. It didn¡¯t take him long to spot something out of place.


    It was an award hidden in the mess of stacked papers. He reached for it and stopped before he touched it.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Naymond smiled. ¡°A wise student. A gentleman always leaves a place better than he met it. But a wise man leaves it exactly how he met it.¡±


    Melmarc read the award and looked up at Naymond who was already walking around the table and towards the door.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have access to Detective Alfa¡¯s system because you hacked into it,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°You had access to it because this is her system.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Naymond checked his phone again. ¡°And we only have four minutes before she gets back, so I suggest we hurry.¡±


    Too confused to really think about it, Melmarc and Pelumi hurried out of the office. Naymond took his sweet time coming out and locking the door before he led them down another path.


    ¡°Please tell me Detective Alfa gave you the keys to her office,¡± Melmarc pleaded, knowing the answer.


    Naymond snorted in amuzement. ¡°Of course not. She knows better than to allow a convicted felon into her office.¡±


    A convicted felon? No one said anything about him being a Felon.


    Melmarc was beginning to think a detective that hated him would¡¯ve been a better option than this. Something told him Naymond Hitcock was going to get him into a lot of trouble.


    And judging by the looks on Pelumi¡¯s face, she probably thought so too.

 THIRTY-SIX: A Touch of Theology

    ¡°Naymond Hitcock,¡± Delano mused on the other side of the phone. ¡°Never heard the name.¡±


    Melmarc was back in his hotel room. Today was the last day of his government approved stay. If he wanted to stay any longer, he would have to pay out of pocket. It was ten thousand dollars a night, so that said everything it needed to say about him paying out of pocket.


    His luggage was packed and ready to go, not that he had even unpacked it in the first place.


    ¡°Even your community hasn¡¯t heard the name?¡± he asked Delano. ¡°He said he¡¯s a Sage.¡±


    ¡°Sages aren¡¯t really rare amongst Gifted, but they are an enigmatic class.¡± There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the phone. ¡°Do you know that while it¡¯s not a combat class, there are Sage¡¯s that have been known to possess some very deadly combat skills?¡±


    Melmarc already knew that.


    What he was interested in wasn¡¯t the Class but the man. If he was going to be working under a felon, he needed to know what kind of man the felon was. And what exactly the felon was convicted for.


    ¡°He said he was a Gifted analyst.¡± Melmarc looked down at the plate of unfinished lobster on his bed. He¡¯d taken Ark¡¯s advice and tried to gorge himself. ¡°Maybe that might help your community.¡±


    ¡°A Gifted analyst isn¡¯t really anything to go by. Most Sages like to think of themselves as Gifted analysts. They get a base boost of ten points to intelligence so their brains are always working on overdrive.¡±


    ¡°Ten points?¡± Melmarc knew it was high, but he didn¡¯t think it was that high. ¡°What other stats do they get?¡±


    ¡°None. It¡¯s almost like the Sage only gets an intelligence boost. Any other additional stats are gained over time.¡±


    Melmarc groaned in frustration. ¡°So nothing on a Sage named Naymond Hitchcock.¡±


    ¡°Nada.¡±


    Could the day get any more frustrating?


    Naymond had had him and Pelumi doing practically nothing the whole day except breaking into offices. When they were done with Alfa¡¯s he¡¯d taken them to an office that turned out to be Nan¡¯s.


    It was a simple office that actually ended up looking even bigger than detective Alfa¡¯s. It had taken them all of three minutes to realize it was not his office despite how casually he walked in and started using their computers.


    By the third office, they had figured out a bit of what he was actually doing. At least they liked to think so.


    So whenever they entered an office, Melmarc and Pelumi would immediately start looking around. They didn¡¯t touch anything, just sat down and looked around. By the fifth office it started getting easier.


    Not all the detectives had awards placed somewhere with their names on it. But there were signs here and there. Names, pictures. There was always something that gave it away. And sometimes Nay dropped hint smuggled into simple conversations either before they got to the office or when they were in it.


    If Melmarc couldn¡¯t figure out the name of the owner, he simply insisted that he was sure it wasn¡¯t Naymond¡¯s office. The second method took a lot of insisting before Naymond would confirm it.


    When they finally got to Naymond¡¯s office, it was a bigger mess than all the others. There were stacks of papers on both his desk and his floor.


    ¡°Do you know if he had a criminal name?¡±


    Melmarc was dragged from his thoughts by Delano¡¯s question.


    A criminal name? It wasn¡¯t unheard of for criminals to have media names or names they gave themselves to fit in with some kind of supervillain vibe.


    Melmarc had no idea. They¡¯d spent all seven hours of their work day with him. After breaking into people¡¯s offices, he¡¯d had them arrange his papers into neat stacks. Some of them had drug related crime researches on them and something about a Romanian council. There had been even one about a drug called Malopalsatin that from the little Melmarc saw was supposed to give people some kind of pseudo power.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask,¡± he answered finally.


    In the background someone complained about being hungry.


    ¡°Are you at Eroms¡¯ place or is he at your place?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°We¡¯re at your place,¡± Delano answered.


    That didn¡¯t make sense. They had no reason to be at his place, at all.


    ¡°Why are you at my place?¡±


    ¡°Because your uncle is helping Eroms out with what he¡¯s capable of.¡±


    There was a shuffling sound around the phone. It was followed by Delano complaining. ¡°Shove off, fatso. You weigh a ton¡ªOw! What are you hitting me for? I¡¯m telling uncle Dorthna.¡±


    Melmarc waited with a smile on his face. After a moment, Erom''s voice came through the phone.


    ¡°Marc, your uncle is mean.¡±


    Melmarc wasn''t sure what he had been expecting Eroms to say, but that hadn¡¯t been it.


    ¡°You sure?¡± he asked. ¡°Because he¡¯s teaching you, though. My uncle doesn¡¯t teach people who aren¡¯t related to him.¡±


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s still mean.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Melmarc was trying not to think about his uncle¡¯s indicator and its color.


    ¡°He¡¯s kept him from eating for a whole day,¡± Delano laughed, interrupting. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen Eroms so frustrated in my life. It¡¯s the best.¡±


    ¡°How did you even get him to teach you, though?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t being mean, he was just really curious.


    ¡°Eroms¡¯ parents begged, and offered money, and claimed the both of you were besties and that anytime you came back home you¡¯d spend a lot of time with us, so it would be good if Eroms was capable of handling any issues with his skills. Did I mention that they offered money?¡±


    Melmarc knew for a fact that uncle Dorthna was loaded, so he was certain he wouldn¡¯t take the money. Still¡­


    ¡°Did he take the money?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Delano answered, voice strained. ¡°Eroms, roll over, you¡¯re going to crush me if you keep lying down like that. He just agreed to teach him on the condition that on days like this, Eroms spent it over at your place.¡±


    That was a weird condition. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because today is Eroms¡¯ fasting day. Which means he¡¯s not allowed to eat all day.¡±


    Delano was sounding too amused.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t blame him, though. Going an entire day without seeing Eroms eat was like seeing a polar bear in the desert. It was supposed to be impossible.


    ¡°So what are you going to do about your felon Sage?¡±


    Melmarc groaned and closed his eyes as he put his head back. ¡°I have no idea. He seemed nice, even if reckless. When I told him that Pelumi didn¡¯t like him revealing her skills, he stopped and apologized.¡±


    ¡°Wait, who¡¯s Pelumi?¡±


    ¡°Just one of the other Gifted here for the program,¡± Melmarc said casually. ¡°I¡¯m worried that if I talk to the superior mentor it might get him in trouble. And he looks like the only person that¡¯s genuinely interested in working with a Faker. The others were more than happy to have me in someone else¡¯s hands.¡±


    ¡°Very interesting stuff you¡¯re going through with being rejected and being accepted. Now, let¡¯s try this part of the conversation again.¡±


    ¡°What part?¡±


    ¡°Who. Is. Pelumi?¡±


    Melmarc sighed. ¡°Another Gifted here for the program.¡±


    ¡°And Pelumi is a she or a he?¡±


    ¡°A she.¡±


    ¡°And you looked at her and decided it wouldn¡¯t be a bad idea to get your willy we¡ª¡±


    ¡°If you complete that sentence, I¡¯m going to hang up. And I won¡¯t give you any more information about the Crafter with the [Smith of The World] skill.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Delano barked in blatant scorn. ¡°Jokes on you, because my community¡¯s almost figured out who it is.¡±


    In less than a week? Melmarc doubted it. Delano was bluffing.


    ¡°Just keep looking into arrested Sages, alright? I need to know what kind of person picked me.¡±


    ¡°You know you have your own personal laptop, right? You could always do your own research.¡±


    ¡°If I thought it was that easy do you think I¡¯d be telling you about it?¡± Melmarc shifted his plate of lobster towards the edge of the bed and adjusted in his duvet. ¡°I¡¯ve checked, and I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not information I can get on the internet that easily.¡±


    He stared at the unfinished lobster and groaned. The single adjustment had given him the perfect position. But he couldn¡¯t go to sleep and leave the lobster on the bed.


    ¡°Whatever¡¯s making you uncomfortable,¡± Delano said over the phone. ¡°Deal with it before you go to bed. You¡¯ll wake up cranky if you don¡¯t.¡±


    Delano was right. He would.


    ¡°Please help me look into the Sage thing, D.¡± Melmarc shrugged off his duvet and got out of bed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to ask detective Alfa unless I absolutely have to.¡±


    He walked over to the other side of the bed and picked up the plate.


    ¡°My community doesn¡¯t work magic, though,¡± Delano told him. ¡°Try and get me more¡ªYou put that in your mouth, Eroms, and I¡¯m telling Marc¡¯s uncle!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just one gummy bear,¡± Eroms complained.


    ¡°One gummy bear is food. Put it down or I¡¯m snitching. Now where was I? Oh yes, get me more information and I can get you more in return, alright?¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡± Melmarc placed the plate on the serving tray and covered it. ¡°Just for the record, don¡¯t you think you¡¯re enjoying Eroms¡¯ suffering too much. You and I both know you won¡¯t snitch on him.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Delano confirmed in a voice so low Melmarc almost didn¡¯t hear him. ¡°But he doesn¡¯t know that.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head as he hung up the call and returned to bed. He¡¯d survived his first day in the precinct without doing any work. All he had to do was survive the second day.


    He wondered what the others did with their detectives as he tucked himself in for bed.


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.


    Alfa sat down behind her desk, arms folded and leaning back against the backrest of her chair. Unlike Naymond, she didn¡¯t swivel it. She didn¡¯t even try to.


    ¡°So how was your first day?¡± she asked.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t exactly sure how to answer that. His first day was clearly memorable. Naymond had taught him that the Sage was not to be trusted.


    Even now, as he sat here, in an office he¡¯d been in before, he wasn¡¯t sure how best to answer the question.


    ¡°Anything unusual happen?¡± Alfa asked.


    Melmarc still wasn¡¯t sure how to answer. The question felt too pointed. Was she asking because she knew something unusual had happened or was she asking because she knew Naymond and suspected that something unusual might¡¯ve happened?


    It was a confusing question. One seemed like a test while the other seemed like a simple inquiry.


    You should¡¯ve checked if there were cameras, he scolded himself.


    He couldn¡¯t remember ever wanting to use [Knowledge Is Power] so bad before. At least he¡¯d be able to know if there were any cameras without looking suspicious. He couldn¡¯t just turn around and check, could he?


    And even if he did, what was the possibility that an experienced and celebrated detective didn¡¯t have her own hidden camera somewhere in her office.


    Alfa let out a breath and leaned forward. She rested her elbows on the little space on her desk not covered in paper. ¡°I know you might have your reservations about me allowing you work with a convicted felon but I assure you that I¡¯m on your side.¡±


    ¡°How do you know I know he¡¯s a felon?¡±


    Alfa chuckled. ¡°Because he¡¯s especially proud of telling people that he¡¯s a felon. It makes them wonder what exactly he did, and how good he is that the government would choose to work with him rather than send him straight to jail.¡±


    This was Melmarc¡¯s chance and he was happy to take it. ¡°What did he do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing grand.¡± Alfa waved the question aside. ¡°I¡¯d tell you but it¡¯s actually above my pay grade as well. And he wouldn¡¯t tell you because he knows it will get him in trouble.¡±


    All Melmarc heard was that Naymond Hitchcock was dangerous and important.


    Alfa¡¯s expression suddenly changed to one of exasperation and she looked past Melmarc. A knock on her door followed.


    ¡°I was already looking at you, Hitchcock,¡± she groaned. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to knock.¡±


    ¡°But the boy wasn¡¯t aware of me, my dear detective.¡± Naymond¡¯s voice flowed into the room. ¡°May I borrow my mentee? That¡¯s if you¡¯re done with him.¡±


    Alfa gave Melmarc a look he couldn¡¯t read before waving him away. ¡°He¡¯s all yours.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Melmarc took a moment to think about everything before he got up. If Naymond and whatever crime and deal he had that brought him here were above detective Alfa¡¯s pay grade, would she even be able to help him if Naymond started doing questionable things?


    She¡¯s your superior mentor. She might not be able to stop him but she should be able to reassign me, right?


    Naymond led him into another office, whistling as they walked.


    This office was the cleanest Melmarc had seen in the department. It had a simple chair behind a desk that had been pushed back against the wall and a swivel chair at the desk. Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but feel like the swivel chair was the one that didn¡¯t belong.


    There were no seats on the other side of the work desk, but there was a three-seater couch pushed up against the wall. Pelumi sat patiently on it.


    She waved at him as he walked into the office. Her smile was bright.


    Melmarc stepped into the office and started looking around. This wasn¡¯t the office Naymond had led them into yesterday when he¡¯d had them arrange his papers.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know the name of the owner,¡± he said as Naymond took his place on the swivel chair.


    Naymond looked up at one of the pictures on the wall, the one Melmarc had spotted, and shrugged. It was of an old man with grey hairs and rimmed glasses.


    ¡°Me neither.¡± Naymond ignored the picture and pressed the power button on the monitor. ¡°Never really cared to find out. So how was your move to your new housing? Do you like it?¡±


    Melmarc had been late this morning because he was moving. And his new housing wasn¡¯t anything spectacular. It was a tall dormitory and he was supposed to share the room with twelve other people.


    He¡¯d met two of those people and was already dreading living in the place. For starters, he¡¯d walked in both people having sex on one of the beds. For another, the girl had looked him dead in the eye and asked if he wanted to join.


    He didn¡¯t have anything against people that enjoyed their sex lives in whatever way they wanted, but he felt that was just too direct for him. He wasn¡¯t one for direct conversations with people he wasn¡¯t close to, so he was already dreading his next three weeks.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t like it, I can always help you get new accommodations. In fact,¡± Naymond slipped his hand inside his inner suit pocket, today it was a deep navy blue, ¡°I¡¯ve got a few places you might like. Pelumi already opted to take one.¡±


    Melmarc looked at her in surprise.


    Pelumi shrugged. ¡°The caretaker at mine offered me a banana and wanted to teach me how to use the shower. It might¡¯ve just been her being nice, but¡­¡±


    She let her words trail away, and Melmarc didn¡¯t need her to complete it.


    ¡°You can join her apartment if you want.¡± Naymond was holding out a black card to him. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be more than happy to have you along with the others, and there¡¯s more than enough rooms to go around. I only ask that you keep the place clean.¡±


    Melmarc reached for the card, but hesitated. Living with a large group of people could be troubling, but taking the card just felt like signing a deal with the devil.


    ¡°Also,¡± Naymond added, wiggling the card at him, ¡°I like to have my people in the same place. Makes it easier to reach them.¡±


    Melmarc took the card from him and read it. It had just his name and an address.


    ¡°You can get your things from your dorm after work, and move in today.¡±


    Melmarc tapped the card against his hand. ¡°Isn¡¯t there meant to be something against seeing the mentees after work hours?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Pelumi said. ¡°As long as it¡¯s not work related, we¡¯re free to do whatever we want after work hours. We could meet up or not. And we¡¯re only meant to take orders from them while on active duty. Outside of that, we can say no to anything.¡±


    Melmarc knew that, but had hoped Naymond didn¡¯t.


    Naymond chuckled. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s only work if we call it work. Now, on to more interesting things. Please have a seat Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Even though there was still more than enough space on the couch, Pelumi scooted over for him.


    Melmarc took a seat.


    ¡°First, I¡¯ll just like to say that I¡¯ve received permission to test out your individual skills whenever I want and how I deem necessary.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think it was a good idea to give that kind of permission to someone who held impromptu meetings in other people¡¯s offices.


    ¡°With that in mind, we¡¯ll start with yours Mr, Lockwood. Will you be nice enough as to use your skills?¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Melmarc looked around, worried. ¡°Here?¡±


    He was acutely aware of all the people in the space just beyond the office.


    ¡°Where else would you like us to try it out?¡± Naymond asked. ¡°Out in public with all the passersby? Or do you think the precinct has some large space designed to train the Gifted?¡±


    Melmarc had assumed they would. They obviously had a gun range, right? So why not a training area for their Gifted. It only made sense.


    ¡°My skill, uhh¡­ it affects Gifted in a way,¡± he said, hoping to dissuade the idea. ¡°I¡¯ve been told its not a nice feeling.¡±


    ¡°Pshaww, that¡¯s baby talk.¡± Naymond leaned back on his chair and looked like he was fighting the urge to swivel. ¡°I know all there is to know about [Knowledge Is Power] and I assure you that it¡¯s fine. I¡¯m just trying to get a hang of how it works with you.¡±


    When Melmarc was still hesitating, Naymond added: ¡°If it will make you feel better, I had Ms. Pelumi use her skill, too.¡±


    Melmarc turned and Pelumi nodded. ¡°He made me use my second skill in the hallway on our way here.¡±


    ¡°What did it do?¡± Melmarc asked, curious.


    ¡°It summons a portal helper.¡±


    ¡°Sort of,¡± Naymond corrected. ¡°Most people call them portal helpers but we Sage¡¯s like to think of them as the universal designated helpers. UDH for short.¡±


    Melmarc was impressed.


    He¡¯d heard of Portal helpers before, but he didn¡¯t know you could summon them outside portals.


    They were something people termed mana beings. They were bodies of mana, each allegedly of different colors.


    Delvers claimed that they were accessible in portals that had final enemies to fight that tended to be very powerful. If you were given the option of getting one when the time came, then it was a safe bet that the final enemy was more powerful than was the norm.


    Many Delvers claimed the method of summoning portal helpers wasn¡¯t necessarily in plain sight. It was usually tucked away somewhere. Not hidden, but not in your face.


    They were called portal helpers because they joined in the fight against the boss. Sometimes they were powerful enough to make a difference, other times they weren¡¯t. If they are defeated in the fight, they simply dissolved into the air.


    ¡°You can summon portal helpers?¡± Melmarc asked, unable to hide his pleasant surprise.


    Pelumi gave him a smile as she nodded.


    It seemed she smiled a lot.


    ¡°It¡¯s my main skill as an Invoker.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Naymond snapped his finger at them. ¡°It¡¯s your secondary skill as an Invoker. It just happens to be the one you use a lot.¡±


    ¡°But sometimes they are just small helpers,¡± she continued as if Naymond hadn¡¯t spoken. ¡°I don¡¯t get to pick and choose, though. When he made me summon one this morning, I was hoping for something like a small pixie to keep me company all day.¡±


    Naymond¡¯s jaw dropped, aghast. ¡°You make it sound like I forced you. I would like to put it on the record that it was nothing but an honest request I made of Ms. Pelumi, and she was happy to oblige.¡±


    He checked his phone and put it down.


    Melmarc wondered how many more minutes they had in the office. Unfortunately, he was more interested in other things.


    ¡°If you didn¡¯t get a pixie, what did you get?¡±


    ¡°A full armored knight,¡± Naymond answered before she could. ¡°Darned thing nearly poked my eyes out with his sword.¡±


    ¡°I told you it was because she was angry,¡± Pelumi said.


    ¡°And how was that my fault? You were the one that summoned it.¡±


    ¡°And you were the one that made me.¡±


    Melmarc looked between both of them. They seemed to have gotten close since the last time he saw them. There was no animosity in their exchange, just banter. It was almost like watching Ninra and uncle Dorthna argue.


    Maybe Naymond wasn¡¯t a bad guy at heart.


    ¡°So where is it now?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything unusual when I came in this morning. Did you unsummon it or something?¡±


    ¡°No, Nay wants to see how long I can keep it here.¡± She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. ¡°She¡¯s on the roof, doing sword training.¡±


    ¡°Boring,¡± Nay yawned. ¡°I¡¯d have loved to see her other skill but we can¡¯t do it in the building unless I plan on having some of the normies killed.¡±


    ¡°Is it that powerful?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Naymond scoffed. ¡°Is it that powerful, he asks. Amadioha is one of the deities worshipped by the Igbos, an entire tribe and ethnicity of people in Nigeria. He is the god of thunder over there. I assure you that skill is going to be devastating. She¡¯s only a B-rank so its form isn¡¯t all that. I¡¯m sure a few people would still survive if she used it here.¡±


    ¡°I already told you I can scale it down to close combat use,¡± Pelumi complained. ¡°You make it sound like I¡¯m a walking calamity.¡±


    ¡°I know you aren¡¯t, love. And do you know how I know that? Because you would never use it against me since we¡¯ve bonded.¡±


    Pelumi made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. ¡°Dey play.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what that meant.


    ¡°And that brings us back to you, Mr. Lockwood,¡± Naymond said. ¡°I¡¯ll need to see your skills to know what I¡¯m working with, and see how you fake things.¡±


    Melmarc let out a resigned breath. If Naymond had already made Pelumi do it, he saw nothing to save him from doing it.


    He activated [Knowledge Is Power]. He felt it activate with the same knee jerk delay he was getting accustomed to, and watched the static white burst out of him.


    [You have activated skill Knowledge Is Power.]


    He was looking at Naymond when it went through him and watched an indicator appear above his head.


    [Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B)].


    The indicator was grey.


    Melmarc knew when the burst of mana began its return. People outside suddenly started complaining.


    ¡°What the hell?¡±


    ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°Did you take something from me?¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s my wallet?¡±


    When it went through Naymond, and then Pelumi, on its return, they both gave different reactions.


    Pelumi gave a surprised gasp while Naymond face turned up in surprise, but he made no sound.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 28.]


    [You have received 28 Potential buffs.]


    Those are a lot of buffs.


    Melmarc was seeing another draw back to [Bless Your Kindness]. In a scenario like this, where there were too many people around him, how did he select a buff fast enough to still be combat ready.


    Naymond gave a full body shiver. ¡°That was¡­¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± Pelumi finished with an excited smile. Then she turned to him. ¡°Why would anyone complain about this?¡±


    Naymond leaned forward on his desk. ¡°Now this is interesting. More than half the people outside didn¡¯t like the feeling. I sure as hell found it less than appealing. But you.¡± He pointed a finger at her. ¡°You found it nice.¡±


    Melmarc looked at Pelumi and found her indicator was green.


    [Olatunji Favor Oluwapelumi(Invoker)(B).]


    She wasn¡¯t kidding, it¡¯s really spelt with no K.


    Filled by a new curiosity, he turned his attention to his list of potential buffs. He ran his hand over the list and scrolled through it until he found what he was looking for.


    [Welcome To Cosgrove(Mastery 2.00%)]


    The Gifted possesses great hospitality.


    [My Faith In You(Mastery(8.00%)]


    The Gifted summons an aid to help in their time of need.


    [Take Me To Church(Mastery 8.00%]


    The Gifted has increased charisma in the presence of Clergy.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:09.]


    Melmarc was surprised by some skills on the list.


    How did the Gifted department really function with people who had skills like [Take Me To Church] or [Welcome To Cosgrove].


    But that wasn¡¯t really his problem. He was more interested in [My Faith In You].


    ¡°I take it you¡¯re looking at the skills you¡¯ve gotten.¡±


    Melmarc looked up at Naymond.


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°You know you can assign mental commands right. It makes it faster. It¡¯s your brain. Just think about it.¡±


    Melmarc knew that. It was just that seeing it in front of him, he tended to forget and just acted.


    There was still a small ruckus outside, but it was already dying out with nowhere to direct their discomfort.


    Melmarc realized that even though people felt the effect, they wouldn¡¯t know where it was coming from.


    That was a good thing. He could just imagine using it in a dangerous situation and having everybody just turn to him at once.


    ¡°So, if I¡¯m not mistaken,¡± Naymond continued, ¡°the skill gives you an array of skills to choose from based on the area of reach you have as long as you meet your criteria.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Melmarc asked, confused.


    Naymond looked puzzled. ¡°Don¡¯t you know how your class works?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    Melmarc knew about Fakers like everybody else, but not the intricacies of the class. He didn¡¯t know the intricacies of any of their skills. All he knew was that they could copy skills in one way or the other.


    Naymond let out a sigh.


    ¡°What about you?¡± he asked Pelumi. ¡°How much do you know about Invokers?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°All I know is that there¡¯s an angry knight on the roof that¡¯s mad at you.¡±


    ¡°Wow. You guys know nothing about your classes.¡± He completely ignored the monitor. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll start with the Faker Class. In summary, most Fakers have a condition they have to meet in order to copy a skill, if not it¡¯s just over-powered. I knew a Faker who had a skill called Warden¡¯s Cell. What it did was, it held the mana in a specific area in stasis, then his second starting skill allowed him study the mana at a glance, allowing him to replicate its effect.¡±


    That sounded more stressful than it was worth.


    ¡°And he could only replicate one skill at a time?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Yes, as long as the skill had been cast within the area of Warden¡¯s Call within a set period of time before he cast it.¡±


    That sounded a bit complicated.


    Naymond groaned. ¡°We really need to teach you how to work on your poker face, Mr. Lockwood. Alright. If you think it¡¯s bad, then how does yours work?¡±


    ¡°I use a skill to gather information, and pick from any of the skills the people around me last used.¡±


    Naymond paused.


    Pelumi laughed. ¡°Now that¡¯s broken.¡±


    ¡°Says the girl that can summon a storm of thunder from a thunder god,¡± Melmarc smirked.


    She stuck her tongue out at him. ¡°I¡¯ll fry you in your sleep.¡±


    Naymond dropped his head in his hands. ¡°She¡¯s right. It¡¯s definitely broken. So you just have access to any skill that has already been cast previously. That¡¯s practically a free gift of skills. Are you sure you don¡¯t have a World Skill you¡¯re hiding?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really not that overpowered,¡± Melmarc said, surprised that he could talk about being a Faker so easily in front of two people he¡¯d just used his skill on. ¡°For example, there¡¯s an entire mastery issue, and a time limit to choose the skill I want.¡±


    ¡°But don¡¯t you already know all the skills you have to pick from? [Knowledge Is Power] should give you a certain level of instantaneous knowledge.¡±


    Oh.


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t considered that. Now that he thought about it, he knew every single skill on the list and what number they were.


    That¡¯s odd. Why do I only know it now that it¡¯s been pointed out?


    So the delay of finding a skill to pick was void. He already knew all the skills and just had to pick one. He didn''t need to go scrolling through the list.


    ¡°And what¡¯s the issue with the mastery?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡®It¡¯s scaled down,¡± he answered. ¡°For instance, your skill is showing with a mastery of 2.3%.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my actual mastery, though.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Nope. Your skill is over-powered. I no do again.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what that last part was, but he had a feeling it meant she was done arguing. As far as she was concerned, his skill was broken.


    ¡°So you have the same mastery level of her skill as she does,¡± Naymond mused, interested. ¡°Look up [World of Insight].¡±


    ¡°You have a world skill?¡± Pelumi asked, surprised.


    It was the same question Melmarc had been about to ask.


    ¡°No, love. The skill is [World of Insight]. If it was a world skill it would be insight of the world. Look it up please, Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to. He was already there.


    [World of Insight(Mastery 02.00%)].


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:00:32.]


    ¡°It¡¯s at 2%.¡±


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s not that broken then. Mine¡¯s at 32% mastery.¡±


    ¡°What exactly does it do?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡°Nothing special. I¡¯m just far more aware of my surroundings than most people. The Sage class is Intelligence based, but it pretty much works on enhancing mental things in the beginning¡­ kinda.¡±


    Melmarc had his eye on his skill¡¯s timer while Naymond went into the vaguest intricacies of what his skill did.


    A single use of [Knowledge Is Power] without picking a buff wasn¡¯t going to be an issue, but Melmarc still remembered how heavy his head felt that one time he¡¯d used it three times without picking a skill with uncle Dorthna.


    The skill he had right now wasn¡¯t a Skill but a skill from a person at the hotel. Since normal people didn¡¯t feel the effect of [Knowledge Is Power], he¡¯d used it in the hotel, just because.


    I need to use it as many times as possible to increase the mastery, after all.


    He picked a skill while Pelumi and Naymond were still talking.


    [Would you like to use My Faith In You? You will not be able to renege on this decision?]


    [Yes/No.]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    [You have selected My Faith In You.]


    ...


    [My Faith In You(Mastery 8.00%)]


    The Gifted summons an aid to help in their time of need.


    Melmarc suddenly understood the skill a whole lot more. He could feel a connection to something more than just him.


    The air in the room was lighter, thinner. But there was something else, something like a string of connection leading off into the distance. He felt it from Pelumi and couldn¡¯t help but follow it.


    He traced it through the room and out of it. Pelumi and Naymond¡¯s voices faded away as he did and he found himself leaving the room entirely even though he was still seated there. It was as if he was searching for something. But what?


    When he found it, he knew it.


    It was strong, a connection that was close to him yet far at the same time.


    It was to a Knight who stood on top of a building swinging a greatsword. She was annoyed, summoned to a world from the void for no reason at all. Her duty was to fight and die or fight and live for the sake of her summoner. But some fool had forced her summoning for no reason.


    Suddenly, the sword stopped mid-swing and the Knight turned.


    From the minute slits in her visor, she stared at Melmarc. She saw him as clearly as he saw her.


    There was an emotion of terror but he wasn¡¯t sure where it was coming from. Then the Knight swung her sword and the connection was broken forcefully.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes shot open.


    I don¡¯t remember closing my eyes, he thought.


    He found Naymond and Pelumi looking at him. Naymond was amused while Pelumi was worried.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Pelumi asked. ¡°You¡¯re sweating.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he was alright. Whatever he had done, the summon had ended it harshly. You are not my master or ally, it seemed to say.


    Melmarc wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. ¡°I think I am.¡±


    Pelumi let out a sigh of relief.


    ¡°What was it like?¡± Naymond asked, still curious. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°You know what he did?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡°I do. Every skill has a form, and when a Faker copies a skill, they copy its form as well, with a touch or two from their own. And I already know what your skill looks like.¡±


    Pelumi looked at Melmarc. ¡°Did you copy my skill?¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t thought it through. But now that he was being asked, he realized there was some breach of ethiquette in what he¡¯d done.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said quickly, even if still disoriented from what the summon forcefully breaking the connection had done to him. ¡°I didn¡¯t really think it through. I just picked a skill.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± Pelumi shook her head. ¡°See this one. I¡¯m not angry oh. I just wanted to know if that¡¯s what you did.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°So you noticed she has a backstory and everything.¡±


    Again, Melmarc nodded. What was up with that? Summoned familiars were monsters drawn from a Portal world. But summons, the helpers found in portals, were an amalgamation of mana from within the portals created to help.


    That¡¯s what everyone said.


    ¡°Ah, the mighty dilemma,¡± Naymond said. ¡°Are summoned helpers actually living beings? The answer is no.¡±


    ¡°But she had her whole life she was drawn from,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°She was angry because her purpose was to sacrifice herself for a greater cause and she was here for no reason.¡±


    Naymond nodded as Melmarc spoke.


    ¡°Then let me pose an idea to you,¡± he said. ¡°You play video games, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded, surprisingly so did Pelumi.


    ¡°And all the characters have a backstory, right?¡±


    Again, they nodded.


    ¡°Does that make them real?¡±


    It was a logical hypothesis, but it lacked something important.


    ¡°Video games were made by someone, though,¡± Pelumi said, taking the words right out of Melmarc¡¯s brain. ¡°That¡¯s why the characters have background stories. So by that logic, summons with background stories can only not be alive if someone made them as well.¡±


    Naymond looked at her. ¡°Are we about to go into a conversation about God? Because I¡¯m not averse to the idea of a creator. In fact, I believe one really might exist. But that¡¯s not what I¡¯m arguing at. Tell me this, you can communicate with your summons, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but only simple things. Basic things.¡±


    ¡°And it communicates back the same way.¡± Naymond picked his phone up and checked the time.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Pelumi¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t sounding so confident anymore.


    ¡°Have you ever tried asking one of your summons about it¡¯s past? What lives they¡¯ve lived?¡±


    Pelumi looked down, eyes thoughtful, voice hesitant. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And did they give you an answer?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t need to hear her words to know what her response was going to be. She already looked like she¡¯d lost the debate.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Naymond nodded.


    ¡°I suspected as much.¡± He picked up a bunch of papers and shuffled them into a neat stack while getting up. ¡°I¡¯m not saying they are not real entirely. During my Delving days, I ran into portals where we used the help of Universal Designated Helpers a few times.¡±


    He placed the neat stack carefully on the desk and started arranging a new stack. His eyes kept glancing beyond the windows.


    ¡°Unlike summons, the helpers in a portal communicate better, but there is no link to them. They come and they go. But they never speak of a past life. You can have entire conversations with them, but no past life.¡± Naymond was on his third stack and this one seemed hurried. ¡°Summoners theorize that the mana in portals are more potent than the one we have. And since helpers in the portals are tied to the mana there while summons are tied to their summoner¡¯s mana, they have more complexity due to the quality and quantity of mana.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why they are more in-depth?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Arguably.¡± Naymond looked down at his phone once more, and Melmarc wondered how much time was left. ¡°But there is another theory, a more acceptable one. Portals that get helpers are usually amongst the most difficult for their ranks. And sometimes, even with the helpers, Delvers still fail and end up with a Chaos Run.¡±


    Melmarc wondered what exactly was going to happen if they ran out of whatever time Naymond was working with.


    Is it how long we have before the owner of the office comes back?


    It felt unlikely. Naymond didn¡¯t behave like anyone in the office worried him. Which meant his worry for the time was about something else.


    The table was almost neatly arranged as Naymond continued. ¡°Now, a lot of Delvers tend to lose their lives in failed Portals, and the theory is that these helpers are somehow mana manifestations¡ªechoes, if you will¡ªof the Delvers who died.¡±


    ¡°So the portal manifests them somehow to help?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡°Yes. At least that¡¯s the argument for the complexity of Portal helpers. The portal draws together a blob of mana in their form to assist Delvers in clearing Portals.¡±


    The news somehow saddened Pelumi.


    To Melmarc¡¯s surprise, Naymond hurried to add. ¡°But that¡¯s just one theory. Another theory is that while they are mana echoes, they aren¡¯t necessarily of dead Delvers or dead monsters. After all, it¡¯s not like everyone dies in a failed Portal. Some theories claim its just mana echoes of Delvers or anything that had been inside the Portal at anytime and was strong enough. A forgotten imprint or such.¡±


    Pelumi brightened at that, but just a little. ¡°What about my summons?¡±


    Naymond shrugged. He walked out from behind the table, done arranging it.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a summoner by Class, so I can¡¯t say. In fact, it¡¯s part of the reason I picked you. Invokers invoke from a source. They are one of the keys to the mysteries of the universe.¡± He walked up to the door and paused to peek outside. ¡°Christian Invokers tend to end up with invocations that lean towards light. You¡¯re a Christian and a Yoruba girl, yet you have a skill as an Invoker that leans towards what people would like to call an Igbo Pegan god.¡±


    ¡°Which leads to an argument of the existence of gods,¡± Melmarc mused.


    It wasn¡¯t a far stretch, though. Especially since he knew there were angels behind some portals somewhere. He wondered if Naymond knew as well.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Naymond said. ¡°But does it mean that the athesists are wrong? Or does it mean that the Christians or Muslims or any other monotheistic religion is wrong? It opens up a whole clusterfuck, and I intend to have you help me with my research on it.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Pelumi got up from the couch. ¡°I thought you were into Gifted analysis.¡±


    Melmarc followed her. ¡°She¡¯s right. This sounds more theology than Gifted analysis.¡±


    Naymond looked at both of them. ¡°Why are you two standing up?¡±


    Pelumi folded her arms in defiance. ¡°Why are you at the door?¡±


    Naymond pursed his lips. ¡°Touch¨¦. We don¡¯t have to leave yet, but it won¡¯t be a bad idea to. Just follow my lead when I say. As for the theology thing, it¡¯s more of a personal hobby. I¡¯m employed to do Gifted analysis, and in my spare time I do theological analysis.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve told us why you picked her but not why you picked me,¡± Melmarc said.


    He was beginning to worry that picking him had actually been a trick, some misdirection to actually have Pelumi. He remembered Naymond calling his choice of picking Pelumi ¡®his next trick¡¯.


    It wasn¡¯t that Melmarc felt bad about it. Naymond seemed open-minded enough to be an interesting mentor. He just didn¡¯t like being a tool. It just made him feel¡­ used.


    ¡°You are a choice based on my work for the government,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°The Gifted analysis part of things. Faker skills, apart from Mages, have the most unique forms. Fluid, if you will, where everyone else are too rigid. I intend on seeing how far we can grow your skills in the next few weeks we have together, and if it grows more rigid or more fluid.¡±


    Naymond adjusted his hat on his head and stood straight. He suddenly looked like a simple person in a suit going about his day.


    ¡°Mr. Lockwood, do try your best to look natural,¡± he said. ¡°Annnd, go.¡±


    He walked out of the office on cue and Pelumi followed easily behind him. They were in odd sync. Melmarc pulled out his phone and looked down at it as he followed them.


    He pulled up a mute video of a chess game as he walked. If he had his attention on an actual activity, maybe he won¡¯t mess up having to focus on pretending.


    They strolled out of the office and no one even bothered to close the door behind them. Melmarc ignored the crowd of green and grey indicators that filled the office. There were two or three reds, but it was a police department. So he didn¡¯t think it was out of place.


    They didn¡¯t go far before Melmarc¡¯s mind started wandering to other things. Specifically, the theory of the Portal summons.


    Naymond¡¯s theories made a lot of sense, but Melmarc couldn¡¯t shake the emotions Pelumi¡¯s summons left in him.


    He could still feel her anger and annoyance. They felt too deep, too real to be caricatures. She didn¡¯t seem like anything less than real.


    But if they weren¡¯t, did it mean anyone could be summoned from anywhere? There were no stories of people suddenly disappearing in broad day light. After all, there was earth, and the parallel world that Players came from.


    It only stood to reason that if a Gifted could summon something from that world, then the parallel world should be able to summon someone from theirs.


    Right?


    It took Melmarc a moment to realize that they were leaving the building.


    ¡°Ah, I see he¡¯s back with us,¡± Naymond said without looking back. ¡°Ms. Pelumi, can you be a dear and cancel your summons. I believe we¡¯ve proven that your summons can last a long time.¡±


    Melmarc felt that connection snap like a cut string and just knew her summons was gone.


    ¡°As for the curious question of where we¡¯re headed, we¡¯re headed for the streets. You are all mentees of the police force, so clearly you have to do police things.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re a consultant,¡± Pelumi pointed out. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to have a supervisor.¡±


    Naymond turned and gave her a smile. ¡°How about we keep this as our little secret, then.¡±


    Pelumi snorted. ¡°Dey play.¡±


    Note to self, Melmarc thought. Ask her what dey play means.


    Naymond sighed. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll go get us a patrol team and have a cruise around town. It¡¯s going to be boring, but what the hell. Beats being in the office all day.¡±


    They had been in the office all day yesterday, arranging what Melmarc was now very certain was someone else¡¯s office.


    Naymond rubbed his palms together impishly after a quick thought.


    ¡°Now what miserable officer¡¯s life can we fuck up today?¡±

 THIRTY-SEVEN: Mr. Hitchcock

    Officer Clivensky was Naymond¡¯s officer of choice.


    He was a large man with a deep tan. And by large, Melmarc didn¡¯t mean fat or obese, he meant huge. He looked like he benched three elephants on a good day, and his uniform had enough material to sEw four suits for Melmarc and have some to spare.


    Naymond picked him randomly at the parking lot and had all but commandeered him away from what was supposed to be his patrol partner.


    And now they were driving in his patrol vehicle as he cruised round a section of the town. Naymond sat regally in the front passenger seat while Melmarc and Pelumi sat in the back.


    The protector between the front and the back section of the car made Melmarc slightly uncomfortable. There was just something about it that made the back seat feel like a place strictly for criminals.


    They had been driving in relative silence for the past hour or two with the occasional whining from Naymond about how boring the job was or why they needed to patrol when they could be in some museum trying to track down one art thief or the other through one of their works.


    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised by how many paintings you see in museums are fake,¡± he groaned to no one in particular.


    When nobody responded to him, he let out a deep sigh.


    Melmarc brought out his phone and shot Delano a quick text. It was a week-day and it was noon. By this time Delano would most likely be in class. Which meant he wouldn¡¯t see the text until at least an hour.


    Update on the Sage, he typed. His real name is Naymondeel Art Hitchcock. He¡¯s B-rank. He used to be a Delver. And he has a skill called World of Insight. It¡¯s not a world skill. That should help with your search.


    He locked his display almost immediately after, then almost started feeling bad.


    Is this how I¡¯m going to feel whenever I use my skills for myself? He wondered.


    It wasn¡¯t like he was doing anything bad with it, yet it felt like some deep form of invasion of privacy. And it was.


    He¡¯d literally taken information Naymond had not voluntarily shared with him.


    But he was the one that asked me to use my skill.


    That gave him a little justification, but not enough. Even if it justified him getting the information, it didn¡¯t feel like it justified him sharing it.


    But what was he supposed to do? He had no clue what kind of person Naymond was. All he knew was that he was eccentric, liked breaking into people¡¯s offices to hold meetings and arrange their papers, and Pelumi seemed to enjoy his company.


    The Gifted was a felon who¡¯d committed a crime so mysterious that not only did detective Alfa not know what it was, but those above her thought Naymond too important to be left to rot in jail.


    Even Naymond acknowledged that he was a felon not worth trusting.


    But is that enough reason to share his secrets?


    Melmarc frowned. He needed to get a hold on the whole dilemma thing, because it wasn¡¯t going to be a healthy practice in the long run.


    He couldn¡¯t start feeling guilty every time he used his skill to get information someone wanted to keep a secret or not.


    It was his skill and he needed to come to terms with the good and the bad that came with it.


    He stared at his reflection on his blank phone screen and sighed. Easier said than done.


    Beside him, Pelumi was looking at him with a touch of worry.


    ¡°Pop quiz!¡± Naymond announced suddenly, startling them. ¡°How do you increase your mastery over a skill?¡±


    That wasn¡¯t a pop quiz, that was a question anyone could answer.


    ¡°By using it as many times as you can,¡± Pelumi answered.


    Naymond made a jarring buzz sound. ¡°Wrong!¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s how everyone does it,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°The fact that everyone does it that way, Mr. Lockwood, doesn¡¯t mean its how it¡¯s done.¡±


    ¡°Then how¡¯s it done, Mr. Hitchcock?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡°Call me Nay, Ms. Pelumi. And since you¡¯re both my lovely students, I¡¯ll tell you how it¡¯s done. Officer Clivensky, please close your ears.¡±


    Officer Clivensky did not, and Naymond scoffed haughtily.


    ¡°Anyway. People grow their mastery by using their skills a lot, but that¡¯s not why their mastery grows. The growth of their mastery is the result of the side effect of using their skills a lot.¡±


    ¡°So how does a Gifted grow their skill, Nay?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Naymond smacked his lips as if tasting something, then shivered. ¡°I told you to call me Nay when we met, right?¡±


    ¡°You did.¡±


    ¡°Well, I sincerely apologize for that, Mr. Lockwood.¡± He smacked his lips again. ¡°I mean no disrespect when I say that it leaves an odd taste in my ear to hear you call me Nay.¡±


    But you¡¯re smacking your lips. And ears don¡¯t have taste.


    ¡°I shall continue to call you Mr. Lockwood, and you may call me Mr. Hitchcock.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t really have a problem with that. ¡°What if you called me Melmarc, or Marc, and I called you Naymond, or Nay?¡±


    Naymond turned his nose up then shook his head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t quite have the appeal anymore, Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    ¡°But you call me Ms. Pelumi and not Ms. Olatunji all the time,¡± Pelumi pointed out.


    They were driving through a part of the city that looked for less developed than the rest of the city. In their drive, they passed a group of men standing around, having a conversation.


    ¡°Slow down, Officer Clivensky,¡± Naymond said casually. ¡°We¡¯ll be parking very soon. Just go around the block one more time.¡±


    Clivensky eased the car into a slow drive and did as he was instructed.


    ¡°As I was saying,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°I call you Ms. Pelumi because it just rolls off the tongue better than Ms. Olatunji. Olatunji feels more like something you would call a missus. And you seem friendlier than Mr. Lockwood. You say my name like we¡¯re friends. Mr. Lockwood says it like there¡¯s a guillotine hanging above his neck ready to fall if he doesn¡¯t. And being addressed as Nay by him, knowing what I know, feels like there''s a guillotine hanging over my neck.¡± He paused in thought. "No. A Damocles sword is a better choice. it could fall at any time."


    He wasn¡¯t wrong. Melmarc just never felt comfortable calling adults by their first name. Mister, miss, and missus, followed by their last name were always comfortable for him.


    He only called Naymond Nay because the consultant had asked it off him. Also, what exactly did Naymond mean by knowing what he knew?


    What does he know? Melmarc wondered.


    It couldn''t be because he was a Faker, right? That was already old news.


    ¡°So I¡¯ll call you Mr. Lockwood," Naymond continued. "And you¡¯ll call me Mr. Hitchcock. Believe me when I say that I don''t mean for it to be rude. Only necessary. How does that sound?¡±


    Melmarc met Naymond¡¯s eyes through the rearview mirror and nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m good with that,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Good. Now back to our pop quiz.¡± He pointed at a road. ¡°Officer Clivensky, please take a right turn here. The only way to increase the mastery of your skill is to understand it better.¡±


    He said nothing else.


    Pelumi looked confused. Melmarc didn¡¯t blame her.


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Naymond said, sounding impressed with himself. ¡°You¡¯d think everyone would know it since it¡¯s quite literally in the name, but people don¡¯t. People who use their skills a lot tend to understand it over time that¡¯s why they think that using it a lot increases the mastery, most people see mastery and treat it like levels in a game; use it a lot and it gets stronger, starts to do new things. Idiots all of them. You¡¯d be a dunce to use a skill a bunch of times and not learn something new about it.¡±


    It made sense to Melmarc. But it sounded like something that had a massive loophole.


    ¡°But what if someone just sat down and thought a lot about his skill, are you saying that could work?¡±


    Naymond scoffed. ¡°As if. Have you ever seen someone just sit down one day and think a bunch about the English language and start figuring it out? Like they just sit down and end up realizing what Homonyms and Homophones are and what words have them?¡±


    ¡°If he already knows the words, I don¡¯t see why not,¡± Officer Clivensky said in a bland tone.


    ¡°Ears on the road, Officer Clivensky or I¡¯ll start talking about the relationship between cats and dogs. And we both know how uncomfortable you get around cats and dogs.¡±


    Melmarc was beginning to think Naymond knew Officer Clivensky and hadn¡¯t chosen him at random.


    Officer Clivensky grumbled something about a pain in the ass consultant. Naymond gave him a wide smile before continuing.


    ¡°Now, Skills are much like mathematics. You can¡¯t just sit down, think about it and discover new formulas and creative ways to use them. You certainly can¡¯t derive any formulas that way. You¡¯ve got to practice, solve new equations and old. Dare to challenge.¡±


    Melmarc thought the Sage was being a bit dramatic but said nothing. At least Pelumi seemed to be enjoying the drama, if her face was anything to go by.


    ¡°Even a Sage, for all our magically heightened intelligence, can¡¯t pull it off. For example, Mr. Lockwood, why do you have to pick from a list of skills? Why can¡¯t you just be intentional about it, pick an individual and automatically select their skill when you activate yours. And Ms. Pelumi, why don¡¯t you get to pick what type of summons you want?¡±


    That left Melmarc and Pelumi in thoughtful silence. If Melmarc was being honest, he had thought of that and not thought of it at the same time.


    It was like wondering to yourself why one plus one had to be two. It wasn¡¯t as good an example, but it was along those lines. Why could one plus one not be two? Simple. Because it just wasn¡¯t until you got to a point where it was.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    A better example would be a child believing letters didn¡¯t belong in mathematics. They might wonder, but they would simply come to accept that it was simply how it was. Numbers belonged to math, and letters belonged to every other subject.


    It would be that way until things changed and math surprises them with letters at a certain grade.


    Officer Clivensky rolled the car to a slow stop under Naymond¡¯s instruction.


    ¡°Alright, my lovely Gifted,¡± Naymond said. ¡°I¡¯ve taught you two lessons as a detective and two as a Gifted. I¡¯m about to give you a third as a detective. Now, somewhere behind us is a bunch of men selling drugs. Don¡¯t look back, just listen.¡±


    Melmarc grabbed Pelumi¡¯s wrist without thinking before she could look back. She stopped her turning motion and looked down at his hand, instead.


    ¡°You have soft hands,¡± she said.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if that was a compliment or not. Her tone made it seem like a simple observation, though.


    ¡°Now, amongst those men is a Gifted,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°I know this Gifted. The precinct wants this Gifted. Because of that, the both of you are going to chase after this Gifted and catch this Gifted.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t entirely sure what kind of plan would help them accomplish this. ¡°There¡¯s just two of us, Mr. Hitchcock, and how many of them?¡±


    ¡°We passed them earlier. Take a guess.¡±


    Melmarc could not. All he knew was that there were a bunch of men behind them somewhere on the other side of the road.


    ¡°We¡¯ll come to that eventually.¡± Naymond adjusted his hat on his head as if he was about to make a dashing entrance. ¡°What is important is that you know that the moment these men see you, they¡¯ll run. All of them. They¡¯ll scatter because they wouldn¡¯t want to deal with the Gifted part of the police. Two will go into the south-east building and try and flee from there, and one will run in the opposite direction of where the others go.


    ¡°So here¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen. I¡¯ll step out of the car first. They¡¯ll see me and act on impulse. They¡¯ll hesitate, unsure. Torn somewhere between running and fighting. That¡¯s when Ms. Pelumi will step out of the vehicle. The moment they see her, they¡¯ll scatter like Ants.¡±


    ¡°You sound so sure.¡± Pelumi¡¯s voice had a little doubt in it.


    ¡°Because I am,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°When they run, you¡¯ll chase after the one with the green bandana tied around his upper arm. His name is David Swan. Remember it Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°When they¡¯ve scattered, and Ms. Pelumi is on the chase, that¡¯s when you come out of the car, Mr. Lockwood. Your job is to help ensure that Mr. David Swan is captured and not hurt... too much. How you help Ms. Pelumi is entirely up to your discretion.¡±


    Officer Clivensky shifted the car into reverse.


    Pelumi finally looked behind her and said, ¡°This sounds dangerous. Isn¡¯t there something in the guide about putting us in dangerous situations?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all covered with clauses and conditional decisions.¡± Naymond didn¡¯t sound worried. ¡°Besides, this situation isn¡¯t dangerous at all. You¡¯ll know once I get out of the car. Things will happen accordingly, and if you successfully capture David Swan, I¡¯ll tell you why things went according to plan.¡±


    What other skill does he have? Melmarc wondered. Was it something that helped him see the immediate future?


    He sounded too confident, and Officer Clivensky didn¡¯t seem to mind.


    ¡°Alright, time to go.¡± The Sage opened his door and stepped out. ¡°You can activate your skill now, Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t need to be told twice.


    He activated [Knowledge Is Power] and his range of awareness expanded. It swallowed the group of men and came back.


    The moment it hit him, he knew all he needed to know. First, there were eight men, fully grown. None of them was below the age of twenty.


    Second, he had his eyes on David Swan.


    Naymond faced the men and adjusted his hat. ¡°Lovely afternoon, don¡¯t you think, boys?¡±


    One of the men tapped another, drawing their attention to Naymond.


    ¡°It¡¯s the police. The hell they doing on our block?¡±


    He stepped forward, and another grabbed his arm. ¡°I recognize that suit and hat. It¡¯s Hitchcock.¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So he¡¯s part of the Gifted department. They handle Gifted related incidents. You don¡¯t want to face a Gifted.¡±


    They weren¡¯t too far as not to be heard, but they were close enough that if Melmarc strained himself, he could hear them. But weren''t they whispering, he could tell that much. So how could he hear them? What stat was being boosted by [Knowledge is Power] to cause this?


    ¡°That¡¯s the hesitation,¡± Naymond said. ¡°That¡¯s your cue, Invoker.¡±


    Pelumi pushed her door open and stepped down.


    As if choreographed by some ruling entity, the men acted in accordance with Naymond¡¯s plans.


    They scattered.


    There was a lot of cursing as they fled, each man his own way. Melmarc was impressed. He didn¡¯t know any skill that worked so accurately on predicting human actions at B-rank.


    In accordance with the plan, Pelumi ran after them.


    After a heartbeat or two, Naymond tapped the top of the car. ¡°And that¡¯s your cue, Mr. Lockwood. And just a little challenge. Only our target is permitted to see you. No one else. You think you can pull that off?¡±


    Melmarc came out from his side of the car. He nodded and started running.


    [Bless Your Kindness] had given him a few skills to choose from but only three were Gifted. But all three were more than enough, and he chose the one he wanted.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 9.]


    [You have received 9 Potential buffs.]


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:09.]


    Yes, he thought, narrowing his attention to only the Gifted skills.


    [My Faith In You(Mastery 8.00%)]


    The Gifted summons an aid to help in their time of need.


    [World of Insight(Mastery 02.00%)].


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.


    [Capture The Moment (Mastery 07.22%)]


    The Gifted represents the world as they¡¯ve captured it.


    Melmarc made his choice as he ran.


    Behind him, standing unbothered, Naymond folded his arms and leaned against the police car. ¡°So that¡¯s what I look like all the time. That''s nice. A little off... but nice. I should probably talk to him about his form, though. That''s one weird form.¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­..


    Melmarc was already moving. He started at a jog, then pushed himself into a sprint.


    He kept his eye out for the direction David had run in as he selected [World of Insight]. His selection of the skill was a tactical one. Done by process of elimination due to usefulness.


    He already knew what [My Faith In You] could do, and the summoning randomness was no fit for the situation, unless it accidentally gave him a speedster summon or a steed. [Capture The Moment] sounded generally unhelpful.


    [World Of Insight] was the only skill he felt would be useful in a chase. What better skill was there to have than an acute awareness of your surrounding when chasing someone through buildings and alleyways.


    He darted into an alley. It was just at the edge of how far [Knowledge Is Power] had reached so he already knew the alley would burst onto another road. Judging by how the men had scattered, it was a safe bet that this path wouldn¡¯t bring him to meeting them.


    He ran out the other side of the alley, head on a swivel and realized a feature of his skill he hadn¡¯t taken note of.


    There was a grey indicator being chased by a green indicator. He could see it right through the building even though he couldn¡¯t see through the building.


    They were moving quickly, Pelumi chasing after David. David¡¯s indicator was clear as day.


    [David Lee Swanda (Crafter)(E)]


    Melmarc looked from side to side, found another path and followed it. He had eight minutes before the effects of [Knowledge Is Power] ran out and he wouldn¡¯t be able to keep track of them again. But he was facing a bigger issue.


    He didn¡¯t know this terrain. It wasn¡¯t like in the movies where the good guy just ran through alleys and roads and cut off the person he was chasing who already had good knowledge of the environment.


    But it can be.


    Melmarc activated [Knowledge Is Power] again, still running at full sprint.


    The static blasted out of him as he ran. When it came back, he took a sharp detour into a warehouse on the right, leading away from Pelumi and their quarry.


    There were people working in the warehouse. They had cardboard boxes filled with Styrofoam and mechanical equipment Melmarc didn¡¯t bother to pay attention to.


    He ducked under a heavy set man¡¯s arm as the man turned with a box in hand. The man complained and he shot the man a quick apology as he leapt over a box without looking at it.


    The people in the warehouse complained, and he¡¯d made at least eight apologies before he burst out the other side of the warehouse.


    He kept his attention on the indicators as he ran, taking a right, then a left.


    He scaled a small metal gate as tall as himself even as he got to the edge of the radius of information his skill had given him.


    But from here, he had a good enough idea where he was going. He took an alley, an empty road, and another building, before he suspected he was getting lost again.


    That¡¯s one use without a buff, he counted.


    Another burst of mana left him as he used [knowledge Is Power].


    That¡¯s two.


    He could already feel his head getting heavy. This burst of mana let him know that while there were a lot of people around, living their lives in the houses around him, none of them were Gifted.


    But there were too many grey and red indicators that the information was getting jumbled up. It was beginning to get difficult keeping track of David through the buildings.


    Melmarc was following the name, but with so many names and indicators flashing in front of him for every turn he made, it was becoming tasking.


    I guess there¡¯re more drawbacks than I thought.


    Rather than keep following David¡¯s name, he changed his attention and focused on the only green indicator.


    He cut across another part, and vaunted over a car. It was nothing special, neither was it any feat of acrobatic inclination. He merely slid across the hood of the car.


    If the information he was getting, along with the Pelumi¡¯s movement, was accurate, the next turn was meant to run him straight into their path.


    Alright then, one more for the road.


    Surprisingly, even though he could feel his head getting heavier, the rest of his body was feeling lighter. It was as if he could run forever.


    I guess that¡¯s what happens when I stack the bonus stats.


    He understood what Naymond meant by constant use increased mastery because it was how people figured out more about their skills.


    He watched the green and grey indicator with nothing but a building between him and them move down a path.


    Two more turns were all he needed.


    Melmarc activated [Knowledge Is Power] a third time and made both turns. The moment he burst out onto the path with Pelumi and David, he was a good distance behind them. He had hoped to burst out right on top of them, but his calculations had been wrong.


    From what he could see, though, Pelumi was already tiring out, putting her all into something of a last ditch effort.


    Got to hurry then, he told himself, pushing himself faster.


    The burst of mana came back to him. It carried more information. Something about the way David was running insinuated confusion but not panic. That didn¡¯t make sense. When culprits ran from the police, weren¡¯t they meant to be scared in someway?


    Unless he¡¯s leading us somewhere.


    The thought worried Melmarc. What if it was an ambush? What if David was leading them back to where there would be enough people to take them down.


    Along with the information was another weight on his head, and Melmarc almost stumbled. It was all he could do to keep his feet beneath him.


    His worry about an ambush kicked in, and he ran harder.


    His feet carried him fast and far until it was as if each normal step felt like a small leap and his surroundings started blurring around him.


    Pelumi wasn¡¯t so far away anymore. Before Melmarc knew it, he was scaling past her, feet carrying him in what felt like small leaps.


    He breezed past her and ran straight for David. The man looked back and his eyes widened in panic.


    Melmarc literally ran into him before he could turn back. He hit the man like a truck. He planned on tackling the man, but the moment he struck the man, he sent him flying forward and crashing to the ground.


    As confused as he was, it didn¡¯t stop Melmarc from tackling David while he was on the ground. He tried to be as gentle as he could be while the man struggled. Surprisingly, the man wasn¡¯t very strong.


    He might¡¯ve been an E-rank, but Melmarc didn¡¯t have any strength boost that came with his class, which meant he wasn¡¯t much stronger than the average person.


    How much weaker is an E-rank?


    Pelumi caught up to them while Melmarc held the man face down on the ground. At some point David had stopped struggling and he was glad for it.


    Pelumi rested her hands on her knees and bent down, panting for air.


    ¡°How the hell¡­ are you so¡­ fast?¡± she asked between breaths. ¡°Aren¡¯t Fakers¡­ intelligence types? Did you¡­ take¡­ an Agility¡­ skill?¡±


    Melmarc looked at her and couldn¡¯t help a smug smile.


    She looked so tired, and so confused.


    Pelumi was still panting heavily. She opened her mouth then closed it.


    Melmarc cocked an inquisitive brow at her.


    ¡°I almost¡­ cussed you out in my language.¡± She eased down and sat on the ground. ¡°Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you.¡±


    Melmarc chuckled. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be bad to be cussed out in a language I don¡¯t know.¡±


    She narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°No. I get the feeling you¡¯ll just keep smiling like that¡­ and I¡¯ll just get¡­ more frustrated. And how the hell¡­ are you so fast?¡±


    This time Melmarc laughed. ¡°Genetics?¡±


    ¡°Mo fe gba e leti.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what that meant, and it only made him laugh harder. His head was also beginning to actually hurt.


    Peluni groaned and threw her head back. ¡°I hate you.¡±


    Melmarc stopped himself from laughing, and held his head in one hand to stall the pain.


    ¡°We just met,¡± he said, still smiling. ¡°You don¡¯t hate me.¡±


    ¡°Well I¡¯ll work towards it¡­ And stop smiling,¡± she complained.


    A moment later, Naymond stood not too far away from them in his three-piece suit and arms folded over his chest. He was leaning against the wall of one of the buildings while Officer Clivensky came to help them with their captured quarry.


    ¡°What happens now?¡± Melmarc asked as he approached them.


    Naymond was looking at him like he was some device that was functioning in an amusing way.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said. ¡°Now we take him back to the precinct for questioning, apologies, and a meal.¡±


    Melmarc looked down. ¡°Sorry about that. I might¡¯ve hit him too hard when I wanted to tackle him.¡±


    ¡°Might have?¡± Naymond laughed. ¡°You very near threw him ten feet through the air.¡±


    That surprised Melmarc enough to have him look up at Naymond¡¯s head. There was no surprise there when he didn¡¯t see any indicator or name.


    Naymond had only been caught by his first blast of [Knowledge Is Power], and that was already over eight minutes ago. And while he wasn¡¯t entirely sure how far the range of the skill was, he knew it was a good distance, maybe a building wide in diameter, but not a very wide building.


    The absence of an indicator meant he hadn¡¯t been close enough to get caught in the last two blasts of [Knowledge Is Power].


    So how does he know how hard I hit him?

 THIRTY-EIGHT: David Swan

    David Swan sat quietly in an interrogation room. He was the only one there, left to his thoughts.


    He didn¡¯t panic, just stared the metal table bolted to the ground. In front of him was a one-way mirror. This wasn¡¯t his first here, and it wasn¡¯t going to be his last.


    The white lights in the room were bright, but not to the point of discomfort, and looking in front of him would show him everything about himself. His white singlet he wore now stained from being tackled to the ground. The tattoo on his face he¡¯d gotten as a kid that marked him as a member of the gang he still couldn¡¯t shake off.


    He let out a tired sigh, and slumped on the chair.


    ¡°Today just keeps getting worse,¡± he said.


    On the other side of the one-way mirror, Naymond Hitchcock stood quietly, looking at him.


    His suit was neatly ironed and his hat was placed gingerly on a table that stood between him and the mirror. He watched David Swan but wasn¡¯t very interested in him.


    Beside him his supervisor, Detective Firdausi Alfa, watched David Swan with folded arms and a frown on her face.


    ¡°I thought you said you haven¡¯t been able to find him for the last month?¡± she said to Naymond without looking away from David.


    They were the only ones in the room and were waiting for one more detective.


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°This one¡¯s high value, detective. I very well couldn¡¯t just run around announcing his name.¡±


    ¡°And I take it, running into him today was a coincidence?¡± There was enough sarcasm in her voice to feed an orphanage.


    ¡°Not at all, Detective. I found him two days ago.¡±


    ¡°And you brought him in today.¡±


    Naymond snorted. ¡°I¡¯m a consultant with a reputation in the streets. I don¡¯t do shakedowns and battle rams.¡± He gave her a half-smile. ¡°I work with finesse.¡±


    ¡°At least tell me the kids had questions and you taught them something from this event.¡±


    ¡°They did.¡± Naymond nodded, stroking his jaw. ¡°Especially the Faker. That one was all questions.¡±


    Alfa looked skeptical. ¡°I expected Pelumi to be the curious one.¡±


    ¡°Can I just say how impressed I am that you can remember your mentees¡¯ names and bastardize it so confidently. It¡¯s pronounced Kpe-lu-mi. Not Pe-lu-mi.¡±


    ¡°And yours is pronounced Fe-lon. Not Nay-mond. People make mistakes, suck it up. There¡¯s no need to shove it in my face. Where did you even find him anyway?¡±


    ¡°Down old street. Third avenue. He was hanging with some of the Romanian crew.¡±


    ¡°The abandoned projects?¡±


    Naymond looked at her from his periphery. He wondered just how abandoned she thought the place was, because it really wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°Yep, the abandoned projects.¡±


    ¡°And you what? Ran him down?¡±


    Naymond chuckled. ¡°You sound so skeptical. You should have seen me, Detective. All dashing heroics and powerful execution.¡±


    Alfa nodded, then turned so that she could lean against the table between them and the mirror, backing the room David was in.


    ¡°Dashing heroics and powerful execution.¡± She shook her head with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve unlocked a new skill that turns you into two children, right?¡±


    Naymond¡¯s lips were parted to say more but now his mouth just paused, hung open.


    ¡°I can explain.¡±


    Alfa bowed her head, looking tired. Then she laughed a little.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can. Last night you unlocked a new skill and forgot to register it to your handler. This skill grants you the power of duplicity. It allows you split yourself into two teenage kids of opposite gender. And you used it to chase down David over there and tackle him to the ground.¡±


    Naymond opened his mouth, then closed it.


    Alfa snorted, sarcastic. ¡°Dashing heroics, my left kidney.¡±


    Naymond played with the top of his hat with a finger. ¡°First, you and I know that¡¯s not what duplicity means. Second, I stand by what I said. My dashing heroics and powerful execution were from a leadership stand point. Leaders can be called heroic, you know.¡±


    ¡°More importantly, why the hell does he think we sent a Basher after him? Did you take Nan¡¯s Warrior?¡±


    Naymond laughed this time. ¡°The gods forbid it.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe in God, Hitchcock.¡±


    ¡°It will amaze you to know what I believe in,¡± Naymond said cheerily. ¡°But no. My two kids were the ones that went after him.¡±


    ¡°Dammit, Hitchcock.¡± Alfa rubbed her forehead like she had a headache. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to put the kids in any dangerous situation. And you had two B-classes with you. You know how the government feels about losing Gifted.¡±


    Naymond waved her complaint aside. ¡°There was nothing dangerous about their situation, Detective. I was watching at all times. Before and during. Even after.¡±


    ¡°Then how did he get the bruise?¡± she asked. ¡°I know he¡¯s just an E-rank Crafter. But your kids are intelligence types, so unless one of them magicked a boulder and hit him with it, I don¡¯t see how anyone would bruise an E-rank so thoroughly.¡±


    ¡°That,¡± Naymond answered, ¡°was our lovely Faker.¡±


    Alfa¡¯s brows furrowed in confusion.


    ¡°What I believe is this.¡± Naymond flipped his hat on the table. ¡°Our amazing Faker has a Skill that somehow increases his physical attributes. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s only for a set period of time.¡±


    ¡°Why do you say so?¡±


    ¡°Because you should¡¯ve seen him run, Detective. He was almost as fast as a car. He just kept soaring. I almost thought he was going to suddenly start leaping over buildings.¡±


    Alfa turned thoughtful at that. ¡°There¡¯s nothing about that in his files.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±


    ¡°Does it mean he lied in his registration? He doesn¡¯t strike me as the type to lie. Lying about your skills is actually a crime.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± Naymond raised a suggestive finger. ¡°We can consider the fact that he has one popular skill, and the registrar just put it down with the details they knew. And maybe said details are a bit different from his own.¡±


    ¡°Or he picked up a Basher¡¯s skill while chasing after them.¡±


    ¡°Unlikely.¡± Naymond shook his head. ¡°There were only four Gifted in that entire place. and we accounted for three of them. David was the fourth.¡±


    Alfa turned and looked at David in the interrogation room at the mention of his name.


    She checked her watch. ¡°You think we¡¯ve kept him in there long enough?¡±


    Naymond checked the time on his phone.


    ¡°Two hours seem good,¡± he said, placing his phone beside his hat. ¡°Let¡¯s give him a third. Just because.¡±


    Alfa thought about it, then shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m fine with that. Just what do you think about the kids. I know today¡¯s the first day you¡¯re taking them out.¡±


    ¡°We spent time getting to know each other yesterday.¡± Naymond shrugged, nonchalant. ¡°Today was for bonding. And I can say this, that boy knows how to follow instructions. I told him not to be seen by specific people while chasing David down and he obeyed it to the letter.¡±


    ¡°What of the girl?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s alright. She¡¯ll definitely need some physical training to raise her stamina.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t sound impressed, even though you picked her.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t pick her for her physical acumen. Besides, this situation wasn¡¯t designed for her to shine so we can¡¯t blame her. She¡¯s more of a nuclear weapon. She takes out enemies in large numbers in one go. Take her to a battlefield and watch her shine. What about the others?¡±


    Alfa shrugged.


    ¡°The Warrior kid is doing just fine. He went on a patrol on his first day and helped them stop a street fight.¡±


    ¡°I thought they weren¡¯t supposed to be in dangerous situations.¡±


    ¡°It was a situation that couldn¡¯t be avoided. Tony¡¯s already trying to convince him that working for the police is going to be good for him.¡±


    ¡°You think it will take?¡±


    She looked at him. ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°He sits like a kid with all the confidence in the world but no direction.¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s probably an overactive last born. He¡¯s done enough to learn confidence, not surprising given his size, but I¡¯m fairly certain he only does what his mom tells him to do.¡±


    ¡°Why not his dad?¡±


    ¡°Because his dad works at an oil rig and is rarely around in the family. If his dad was the one giving him his commands while working from an oil rig, it would be one of two things.¡± He raised two fingers and dropped them as he spoke. ¡°Either he¡¯s the commanding type who somehow rules with an iron fist or he¡¯s someone the boy idolizes and wants to make proud.¡±


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


    Alfa checked her watch again. ¡°So why can¡¯t it be one of the two?¡±


    ¡°Because if it was the first, there would¡¯ve been a touch of inferiority coming from the kid. The kind only a father can leave on a son. And if it was the second, the boy would either be defiant or very following. Instead, he¡¯s just really nice, even to Thalisa. And Thalisa has said a few horrible things to him.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s your defense. Nice?¡±


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°A mama¡¯s boy is usually always very nice and polite, especially to women. Or over-spoiled. But it¡¯s not like it¡¯s a hard science. I could be wrong.¡±


    Alfa chuckled darkly. ¡°As if you¡¯re ever wrong.¡±


    ¡°You sure, Detective?¡± Naymond gave her an amused look. ¡°You guys caught me, so I¡¯m very sure that says I have been wrong at least once.¡±


    When Alfa said nothing, he sighed.


    ¡°And you still don¡¯t believe you guys caught me.¡± Naymond folded his arms and returned his attention to the interrogation room. ¡°Do you really still think this is all a ruse, Detective? That I allowed myself get caught just so that I could leverage something important and strike a deal with the government so I can come and work with you for two years?¡±


    Alfa had the look of a stubborn child on her face. A child who had a feeling that their opinion might be wrong but were too strong-headed to accept it.


    ¡°You¡¯re a Sage,¡± she said. ¡°No one knows what it is with you Sages. And you¡¯ve never once struck me as a prisoner.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called a healthy mind.¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°And I play a lot of video games. They are very therapeutic.¡±


    ¡°Sure they are.¡± Alfa turned and made her way for the door. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go talk to your boy.¡±


    Naymond picked up his phone. ¡°It¡¯s not even been twenty minutes. I thought we were going to let him stew for another hour.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s either talk to him now, or talk to you for another hour.¡± Alfa shivered. ¡°I definitely know which one¡¯s less stressful.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Naymond slipped his phone in his pocket and placed his hat on his head. ¡°And while you¡¯re at it, have someone talk to the Caster girl. What was her name, again? Samantha? Have someone that¡¯s not her mentor talk to her. You¡¯ll get a higher chance of her applying for the police academy after she¡¯s done with the mentorship program.¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    ¡°You arsehole!¡±


    David burst from his seat the moment the door to the room opened and Naymond Hitchcock entered.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have your hat for this!¡±


    Detective Firdausi Alfa was already inside before he got to the consultant. She caught him by the face with her hand, halting his rushed advance. With his hands not in cuffs, he made a desperate grab at her.


    The results were not in his favor.


    She stepped back, slipping out of his reach, then stepped into him almost immediately. A simple shoulder thrust into his chest sent him staggering. She stopped him from falling by grabbing his wrist, and swung him face first into the wall.


    He struck the wall and she pinned him there.


    ¡°I hate the fool, too,¡± she said. ¡°But we don¡¯t condone enraged violence in my office. Now, I¡¯ll be willing to let you go if you promise to be more civilized.¡±


    Naymond stood off to the side with a smile on his face.


    David was scowling at him. He was waving at David.


    ¡°Stop provoking him,¡± Alfa scolded.


    Naymond stopped waving.


    There was a moment of silence that settled between all three of them before David finally spoke.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll behave.¡±


    Alfa released him, and he turned around, grudgingly. He rubbed a palm against his chest as if soothing a pain, before going back to his chair.


    When he was there, he sat down begrudgingly.


    ¡°Your guy¡¯s an arsehole,¡± he told Alfa. ¡°You know that, right?¡±


    Alfa nodded, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. ¡°So what do you have for us?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. Not until arsehole over there apologizes.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± Naymond asked in mock hurt. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything.¡±


    ¡°No, but you sent two kids after me. And a Basher at that. This!¡± he pointed at a purpling bruise poking out from his singlet. ¡°I didn¡¯t sign up for this when I agreed to work with you guys! Why the hell would anyone send a Basher after their own CI? What the hell!¡±


    Alfa leaned back on her chair. ¡°We didn¡¯t send a Basher after you, Swan. The kid was an intelligence type.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit! I can believe the girl was an Intelligence type, but not the boy. Intelligence types don¡¯t run that fast or hit that hard.¡± He pointed at his bruise again. ¡°Intelligence types don¡¯t do this with just one hit.¡±


    Alfa looked at the bruise and actually grimaced. ¡°I assure you that he¡¯s an intelligence type, but you¡¯re right. Hitchcock does owe you an apology.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡± Naymond complained from where he stood.


    Alfa looked at him. ¡°For not handling this in a more civilized manner.¡±


    ¡°But I only sent two kids after him. It¡¯s not like I sent a whole squad.¡±


    David was still frowning.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Naymond conceded. ¡°I apologize, Mr. Swan. I should¡¯ve handled this better, and I did not.¡±


    Alfa turned back to David. ¡°Is that acceptable, Mr. Swan?¡±


    David¡¯s frown deepened. He wasn¡¯t looking at her. ¡°Why the hell do you people even keep a child for a consultant? How can someone apologize one minute and stick his tongue at me the next. I swear if you guys weren¡¯t paying me I¡¯d be asking for my lawyer.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯d be putting you in a cell to rot for a very long time for the crimes you¡¯ve committed.¡±


    David finally looked at her. ¡°Then you¡¯ll never find the drug route for the Romanians.¡±


    Naymond snorted. ¡°Stop posturing, Mr. Swan. We can find it without you. It will just take much longer than we would like. And it¡¯s not like you¡¯re leading us to it. You¡¯re just leading us to the guy who¡¯ll lead us to the guy that¡¯ll lead us to it.¡±


    Alfa shot him a warning look.


    ¡°What?¡± he protested. ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯s not true. He¡¯s a very low cog in a very dysfunctional part of a machine. He¡¯s like a loose bolt in the wheel of a car, specifically the wheel with the only flat tire.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock, would you like to be a part of this conversation from outside?¡±


    ¡°No, detective.¡±


    ¡°Then let your C.I give us what we brought him in for.¡±


    Naymond pantomimed locking his mouth and tossing the key away. All the while, David checked on his bruise.


    ¡°At least it¡¯s a nice touch,¡± he muttered. ¡°Everyone knows that cops don¡¯t hurt their C.I. So they¡¯ll believe you guys had nothing on me when you let me go.¡±


    ¡°So what do you have for us?¡± Alfa asked, her tone all business.


    David shrugged. ¡°Something big, actually. The Romanians sent in an order today. Some of our boys are supposed to pick up a shipment in a few days. Broad daylight thing. So Navari wants us to bring in new kids for the pick up.¡±


    ¡°An initiation?¡± Alfa asked.


    ¡°Not like that. It¡¯s just a one-day gig. He needs kids with no group affiliation. Wants us to pick up one of those fancy school kids that want that life and think they¡¯re the shit. You know the ones.¡±


    ¡°School bullies and their bullies too weak to talk,¡± Naymond offered from where he stood. ¡°Since it¡¯s broad day light, they can¡¯t have people skulking around. They need people who can move around freely. Which means they need faces the cops won¡¯t see and suspect immediately.¡±


    ¡°Yea,¡± David confirmed. ¡°We¡¯ve got about a week or two before the main occasion.¡±


    Alfa looked thoughtful. ¡°So we¡¯ve got a week or two to find which kids are going to end up running drugs on the streets without looking like they¡¯re running drugs on the street.¡±


    David shook his head. ¡°No. These kids will practice the drop off for a week before the actual event. But the kids won¡¯t know its all practice. Navari wants to know its not some insignificant fools we¡¯re bringing in. He needs kids that are timid but smart. Or at least determined.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s smart.¡± Naymond thought about it. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want a snitch.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. He also doesn¡¯t want someone who¡¯ll steal the product. The last thing you want to do is cross the Romanians. And they won¡¯t care whose fault it is.¡±


    ¡°So how long do we have to come up with a plan?¡± Alfa asked.


    ¡°Three days. That¡¯s when we¡¯ll be bringing the first set. And he¡¯s going to have some guys with him, just to be sure none of the kids are police related. He knows about the mentorship program and all that, so he knows you guys have kids on your roasters.¡±


    ¡°We also have interns,¡± Naymond offered.


    David scoffed in derision. ¡°Everyone knows your interns. Heck, I know them by name and face. Navari¡¯s got guys hanging around so he¡¯ll be bringing them to screen the kids.¡±


    Alfa frowned. ¡°He sounds very thorough. That¡¯s not the Navari I know.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what happens when you deal with the Romanians. You¡¯re either thorough or you die.¡±


    Naymond chuckled. ¡°Kids these days. You do know you can still be thorough and die, right?¡±


    David looked him in the eye. ¡°I don¡¯t like you.¡±


    ¡°I care about you, too.¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°But this isn¡¯t a time to talk about our feelings.¡±


    Alfa looked between them and shook her head.


    ¡°This is all well and good, David,¡± she said. ¡°But do you have anything to back it up? You know I can¡¯t take this up the ladder without something.¡±


    David¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡±


    ¡°As a rollercoaster ride with a loose bolt,¡± Naymond said.


    ¡°I swear sometimes you guys make me feel like you just bring me in so you can see me use my skills. I¡¯m not some freakshow for godssake.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m not into open mouths unless it¡¯s a lady¡¯s,¡± Naymond retorted. ¡°But here we are. Evidence please.¡±


    David frowned but activated his skill.


    [Mimickry] was an interesting skill he didn¡¯t like using simply because of how he looked using it.


    The way the skill worked was simple, and scaled down to E-rank, boring. With his other skill [Capture The Moment] he recorded a specific event during a period of time, and stored it in his memory.


    As a Crafter, he was a creator. There was no Crafter who didn¡¯t create in some way. Most Crafters created tangible objects from weapons to state of the art devices. But he wasn¡¯t like them, he didn¡¯t have the advancements to create things that sophisticated.


    What he could create, however, were stories of events.


    Another reason he didn¡¯t like [Mimicry] was because it rendered him defenseless.


    He opened his mouth as wide as it could go when he activated it, and Alfa and Naymond waited. It was only a moment before the skill took effect.


    [We don¡¯t have any new kids,] a voice echoed from his mouth. [Our last recruitment was over a month ago.]


    His mouth didn¡¯t move and neither did his throat. [Mimicry] was like an advanced level ventriloquism.


    Alfa and Naymond identified the voice immediately. It was Navari. And he sounded worried.


    [How are we going to move the shipment?] he was saying.


    [We could hit up the schools,] someone said. [Do a mass recruitment. Sudden and quick. How many kids do we need?]


    [Not many. But the problem isn¡¯t the kids, it¡¯s if we can get smart kids.] Navari said.


    ¡°Gives me the creeps every time I see it,¡± Alfa muttered. ¡°I know its normal. But it¡¯s just¡­¡±


    ¡°A strange skill,¡± Naymond completed for her. ¡°But the form¡¯s beautiful, though.¡±


    [I know two kids from a school nearby,] another voice said. [They basically run the place over there.]


    [Are they smart kids? Bullies aren¡¯t usually smart.]


    The new voice chuckled. [I said they run the school, boss. I didn¡¯t say they were bullies. They run the bullies that run the school.]


    [And how the hell do you know kids that smart, Mamba?] a new voice asked. [You¡¯ve got shit for brains. You sure they ain¡¯t running you, too?]


    [I say this with the utmost respect, Yellow face,] Mamba said. [Fuck you.]


    There was a sound of scuttling from David¡¯s mouth. Naymond and Alfa were in agreement that it was either an actual quick fight or an escalation that failed to become a fight before Navari¡¯s voice turned up again.


    [We¡¯re fucking with the Romanians right now and you fools want to see whose dick is bigger?] He sounded enraged. [Well, if that¡¯s the case you can be patient for it. I¡¯m sure if we mess up, they¡¯ll be more than happy to cut it off for us.]


    ¡°He¡¯s scared,¡± Naymond pointed out while they continued talking. ¡°I don¡¯t think he even wants to be part of this deal.¡±


    Alfa nodded. ¡°You think he was strong-armed into it?¡±


    ¡°Possibly. Maybe the Romanians are trying to move in.¡±


    ¡°I really hope not.¡±


    [How about this, boss?] a new voice asked.


    [How about what?]


    [We¡¯ve got two weeks before the drop. So how about we gather as many kids as we can from where we can, and we test them.]


    [And why would they want to be tested?] Yellow face asked.


    [Because we¡¯ll pay them for every test.] the new voice explained. [We¡¯ll pay them a little bit of money to move something important from one place to another.]


    [Sounds like a waste of money,] Navari said.


    [It is,] the voice agreed. [But for a good cause. The money serves as an incentive to do the job. And we give them practice runs. The ones that actually want to join a gang will see it as an opportunity. The ones that don¡¯t, get free money.]


    There was a thoughtful silence, followed by Navari¡¯s voice.


    [And it will help us weed out the idiots,] he said in apprehension. [We have men watch them through out the entire process. Anyone that steals from us won¡¯t be invited back for the main run. Anyone too stupid won¡¯t be invited either. Only the smart ones will work.]


    [What of the nervous ones?] Mamba asked.


    [Not an issue,] the voice that had made the suggestion said. [They¡¯ll be nervous in the beginning. So we¡¯ll keep giving them practice runs for a while until the drop day. That way, it becomes normal and natural for them. By the final day, it will be a routine walk in the park for them.]


    [You know we¡¯re sending innocent kids to the hands of the Romanians, right?] Yellow face asked. [It just don¡¯t sit right.]


    [It won¡¯t be a problem,] Navari said. [The Romanians will only be interested in any of them that turns out to be unique or anyone that they think is a threat. If Elvo¡¯s idea works well, that will be none of the kids, so they¡¯re safe.]


    David closed his mouth after that.


    ¡°That¡¯s all I got.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s plenty,¡± Alfa assured him. ¡°Now we just have much more to worry about.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± Naymond asked.


    ¡°They are going to be using regular innocent school kids. Which means it could be anyone. We can¡¯t just start jumping school kids on the drop day. We might as well jump everyone. It¡¯s not feasible.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still not seeing the problem.¡±


    ¡°Hitchcock.¡± She turned and looked him in the eye. ¡°We. Cannot. Jump. Kids. We don¡¯t do that.¡±


    Naymond still looked confused. After a while, he just shrugged.


    ¡°I believe you.¡±

 THIRTY-NINE: Suplex

    Melmarc strolled up to the front of an apartment on the side of the road late into the night, when the moon wasn¡¯t yet out but the sun was gone and it was dark. The apartment looked simple enough. It was in an apartment complex and had the external look of brick-brown every other house in the neighborhood had.


    It also had the same external architectural features.


    He looked down at the card Naymond had given him.


    ¡°47 Brookswitch drive.¡± He looked up at the building. Just beside the door, illuminated by the outside light, was the number 47. ¡°I guess this is the place.¡±


    He¡¯d given it two days in the shared living apartment the government had booked for him before before making his decision.


    After three invitations to join in a sexual escapade, four near overdoses by one of their roommates in the span of thirty-two hours, and one fight between two C-rank Bashers that broke three beds and shattered one window, he felt it was time to cave in.


    He didn¡¯t want to accept Naymond¡¯s offer simply because he felt guilty about snooping for information behind his back. But guilt could only hold him back for so long. When one of your roommates kept staring at you while swallowing pills, you knew it was time to override your guilt.


    He looked to the side, a few apartments down.


    Pelumi was supposed to be in number 38, and while it was far, it wasn¡¯t too far.


    That¡¯s if I can believe Mr. Hitchcock, he thought.


    He walked up to the door, duffle bag over one shoulder with a normal backpack worn properly with his laptop inside, and rang the doorbell. He waited for about twenty seconds then rang it again.


    Can¡¯t be worse than the government¡¯s shared living, right?


    Naymond wore a three-piece suit. That showed class and sophistication. It was only a given that his accomodation would be held to a certain level of class.


    But I¡¯m not paying for it, he thought. It was enough reason not to expect much out of it.


    It could easily be lacking.


    But Naymond had class, right? And he did ask that Melmarc continue to keep the place clean.


    Pimps wear clean suits in movies, too, he told himself. And in the same movies, he¡¯d seen how their employees lived.


    No. Melmarc shook his head, banishing the thought. He pressed the doorbell again. This is not a movie, and Mr. Hitchcock is not a pimp.


    After a moment, he heard the sound of footsteps, then the turning of the door¡¯s lock. The door opened to the sight of a boy. He looked Melmarc¡¯s age but was shorter.


    ¡°Here.¡± The boy held out a mobile phone to him. ¡°It¡¯s for you.¡±


    A little confused, Melmarc took the phone from him. He looked down at the caller and found the call had already been on for at least eleven seconds. The caller¡¯s name wasn¡¯t saved, and he didn¡¯t recognize the phone number.


    He looked at the boy inquisitively.


    ¡°You¡¯re running up my phone bill,¡± the boy said simply. ¡°Just answer.¡±


    Melmarc could hear the minute hello¡¯s the person on the other end was saying.


    It¡¯s just a phone call, he told himself, knowing very well that if Ark told him a stranger had offered him a random phone and he¡¯d taken it he¡¯d have some words for him.


    Melmarc placed the phone to his ear. ¡°Hello.¡±


    ¡°Good. I thought Anji might¡¯ve accidentally melted your face off with his heat vision.¡±


    It was Naymond¡¯s voice. Melmarc looked at the boy still standing at the door. I guess that makes him Anji.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Mr. Hitchcock,¡± he said. ¡°I just got here.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now I¡¯ve only got two things to tell you. One, Anji¡¯s in charge of the place. Obey every instruction he gives as long as they are within reason. And, two, I lied.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean you li¡ª¡±


    Naymond hung up before Melmarc could finish his sentence. Melmarc looked down at the phone, confirmed the call was over, then handed it back to Anji.


    Anji took it quietly. He had the black hairstyle of a goth enthusiast, but that was were his relationship with anything gothic ended.


    He wore a simple T-shirt that said ¡®I¡¯m a Venezuelan hunchback¡¯ on the front, with a small picture of a cartoonish hunchback character beneath the large words, and a pair of jeans.


    Melmarc raised his hand in an awkward motionless wave and said, ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Melmarc.¡±


    The boy nodded and stepped back into the house, giving Melmarc enough space to come in, which he did.


    ¡°I¡¯m Anji,¡± the boy said.


    Melmarc closed the door behind him, and Anji locked it.


    ¡°And this is the key to your room and the front door,¡± the boy added, handing him a key ring with only two keys.


    Melmarc took it from him. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Now, I have a good idea what Nay told you, so I¡¯ll be brief.¡± Anji came to stand in front of him but not very close. ¡°One, the only thing I ask is that you don¡¯t bother me. Two, clean your space and any mess you make in the general space. Three, I¡¯m not in charge of the house, no matter what Nay says. And four, if you have any questions with an answer you can¡¯t figure out, ask me or one of the others.¡±


    Melmarc adjusted his bag. ¡°How many are we?¡±


    ¡°Five,¡± Anji answered. ¡°That¡¯s including you. And one of us isn¡¯t Gifted, so be careful with how you shake his hand or pat his back and all those things. We almost had a Basher break his arm last year just because the guy didn¡¯t know his own strength.¡±


    He looked Melmarc up and down in a curious way. ¡°You don¡¯t look like a Basher.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡±


    ¡°Good. Final rule, if none of us have the answer to any questions you might have, call Nay.¡± Anji pointed towards a small hallway. ¡°Your room¡¯s up the stairs. Second door on the right.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Melmarc answered, unsure. He didn¡¯t know if the conversation was going well or not.


    Anji turned, and was heading towards what looked like a basement room when he paused. ¡°Also, I¡¯m not the house head or whatever Anji told you. I¡¯m just like everyone else. I stay here. The end.¡±


    ¡°Is that what he lied about?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Anji shrugged with his hand on the door knob. ¡°Nay lies about almost everything. Sometimes he tells you it was a lie. Most times he doesn¡¯t. Just don¡¯t trust anything he says or does. It really doesn¡¯t make much of a difference.¡±


    Anji didn¡¯t seem to mind much about Naymond¡¯s character. He said it like he¡¯d accepted it as a fact of life. Just as fire is hot, Naymond lied. You just learned to live with it. It wasn¡¯t a bad thing and it wasn¡¯t a good thing.


    It left Melmarc with a new question.


    ¡°Sorry to be a bother,¡± he said. Anji didn¡¯t say anything so he saw it as a cue to go on. ¡°But is this place really his?¡±


    ¡°Nobody has any idea. I¡¯ve been here for almost a year now, for free, and nobody¡¯s come to kick me out.¡±


    ¡°For free?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I just help Nay with a few stuff here and there when he needs it. He rarely ever asks for anything too important, though. But I like to think of it as my rent.¡±


    With that, the boy retreated into the door that led to where Melmarc didn¡¯t know.


    Then what did he lie about? Melmarc thought as he looked around the room.


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


    The house was clean, cleaner than he¡¯d even thought it would be. The living area had enough chairs to sit an entire football team, and enough space to fit in the second string. There was a large screen television on a central wall with its own LED designed shelf.


    The area was lit in blue and green LED lights that gave it a soothing color scheme.


    There was a kitchen just behind it that served as a backdrop to the living room. It was one-third the size of the living room but remained spacious enough.


    Whenever Naymond had gained access to the place, he must¡¯ve really put in mind housing a good number of people.


    Melmarc strolled through the living room, taking note of the pot on the turned off kitchen burner. He hadn¡¯t eaten since the afternoon and wondered what the cooking schedule was like in the house.


    He made his way up the stairs and down the hallway he found. It was a short hallway, wide enough to fit three people walking side by side.


    He said second door on the right.


    There were only two doors on the right and one on the left, then a small staircase going up. So it wasn¡¯t difficult to navigate.


    ¡°New kid?¡±


    Melmarc turned at the sound of the voice and found a lady standing at the small staircase that was supposed to lead up.


    He shifted the weight of his bags on his shoulder and moved towards her, offering a handshake.


    The lady shook her head, stopping him.


    ¡°Not a fan of being touched,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t.


    The lady looked somewhere in her twenties, which was a bit odd, considering there were currently two members of the house that looked sixteen.


    Does she live here, too?


    ¡°So¡­¡± She gestured vaguely. ¡°New kid?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    The girl folded her arms casually. ¡°Nay really knows how to pick them.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what that meant.


    The lady was pale, as if she lacked time under the sun. She was so pale that her brown eyes seemed bright, even under the white lights of the hallway. She wore simple clothes, tight fitting pants and a hoodie.


    It was still winter but this part of the country didn¡¯t seem to see much snow, going by how nonexistent it had been since he¡¯d gotten here. But it wasn¡¯t like the weather was accommodating. It was still cold.


    The lady was also¡ªhe noted¡ªpretty.


    And she knew it, because she smirked and said, ¡°Don¡¯t get lost looking at me like that, kid. What are you? Eighteen? Seventeen?¡± she came all the way down from the stairs. She looked up at him. ¡°You¡¯re a tall one, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t get why she was calling him tall. He was just an inch past six feet. What would she say if she met Ark or Eroms?


    Considering how short she was, maybe everyone was just tall to her. It was probably not a specific comment designed specially for him.


    Melmarc¡¯s mind was still going through the motions when he felt something hit him like a soundwave. It was like standing at a rave with really overenthusiastic speakers.


    It hit him from the front and he half-expected himself to stagger. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    A notification popped up in front of him.


    [Skill Bless Your Kindness has been applied on you.]


    [Skill Bless Your Kindness takes effect.]


    He saw the change on the lady¡¯s face and frowned.


    ¡°What the hell was that for?¡± he asked, offended. ¡°Did you just use a skill on me?¡±


    She had half enough decency to look slightly chastised. The missing half of her decency was in the defiant look she gave him as if she refused to be embarrassed by what she¡¯d done.


    ¡°Odd,¡± she said. ¡°You weren¡¯t supposed to feel that.¡±


    ¡°And that makes it okay?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. If you didn¡¯t feel it, you wouldn¡¯t be offended.¡±


    Melmarc clenched his fists by his side to stall what might or might not be his anger. Right now he knew he was offended, but he was more confused by two things. One, the surprise of meeting someone with his own skill. Two, the surprise of having it used on him.


    Tepez had claimed it felt like something was being taken from him back at Vlad¡¯s mansion during their school trip. But this felt like someone had been trying to push him back.


    Was it because of how the skills were applied? Or were the skills the same, but fundamentally different?


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re the third person I¡¯ve met who felt that,¡± she said. ¡°The last two people to feel my skill had one thing in common. They also had the skill. I take it you¡¯ve got the same skill, right?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t ignore the fact that she didn¡¯t apologize.


    ¡°That would make you a what?¡± she continued, ¡°A Rogue? Scout? Ranger?¡±


    ¡°Is there a rule in this places that says I have to share my skill or Class?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Anji hadn¡¯t said anything about it. In fact, the boy hadn¡¯t been the slightest bit interested in it. He¡¯d only spoken about Basher because of the incident with the normal housemate and a Basher.


    The lady stared at him a little longer, then grinned. ¡°Tight-lipped, huh, Melmarc?¡±


    Melmarc did his best to keep his discomfort from his face. So her skill had given her something about him. But how much?


    She didn¡¯t look like she was reading it on him. When she¡¯d mentioned his name, she hadn¡¯t sounded like she was reading it, she sounded like she simply knew it. But why just his first name, why not his middle name or his last name.


    What else didn¡¯t she get?


    From the short encounter, she seemed like the kind of person that would¡¯ve wanted to show off more. Judging by her smug expresson, she probably hadn¡¯t seen his class. Because if she had, she wouldn¡¯t have asked, and she wouldn¡¯t be so smug knowing he might be able to use her skill right now.


    Melmarc just stood there, wishing he was like Ark, always ready for a confrontation. But he was¡¯t Ark. His approaches were less troublesome.


    ¡°So it¡¯s supposed to be alright if the person doesn¡¯t know,¡± he said, doing his best to keep his voice empty of his displeasure.


    The lady shrugged. ¡°What you don¡¯t know won¡¯t hurt you.¡±


    Melmarc definitely didn¡¯t agree with that logic. Emotionally, maybe not. But there was a lot in that one sentence, too much to only look at it from an emotional stand point.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she said. ¡°Since I know your name, it¡¯s only fair that you know mine. I¡¯m Ariadne, but you can call me Aria.¡±


    If you can give me your name, why couldn¡¯t you just ask for mine?


    Ariadne cocked her head to the side. ¡°You¡¯re still angry. That¡¯s sad. Because if you¡¯re expecting an apology, you won¡¯t be getting one.¡±


    Was she serious? So she knew she was supposed to apologize but wasn¡¯t going to. Intentionally.


    ¡°I take it this is your first time living with Gifted.¡± Ariadne walked backwards, heading for the stairs to the living room. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it, eventually. We use our skills all the time for different things. It¡¯s late. I¡¯m heading out. If you¡¯re hungry, there¡¯s pasta in one of the pots in the kitchen, someone cooked. But I¡¯ll advise you eat it slowly. It¡¯s quite spicy.¡±


    Then she was gone, rushing down the stairs.


    Melmarc let out a sigh now that he was alone. He had considered using [Bless Your Kindness] back on her, give her a taste of her own medicine. But he¡¯d changed his mind almost immediately. His range had increased since getting his class, and he hadn¡¯t wanted to burden any other housemate that might be around with the effect of having the skill used on you.


    He turned and made his way for his room. Barely ten minutes in, and he¡¯d met two of his housemates. One seemed okay, and the other seemed not very nice.


    One for one so far.


    Melmarc fit his key in the lock of his door, opened it, and stepped inside. He locked the door behind him and let out a relaxing breath. He hadn¡¯t known how much he¡¯d wanted to leave the other place.


    He¡¯d known he wanted to leave, he just hadn¡¯t known how much he¡¯d wanted to.


    Having his own room now, he knew.


    The room wasn¡¯t the largest, but it was ensuite with a shower and a bathtub. There was a reading table up against one side of the wall, and his own cupboard where he could hang up his clothes.


    There was a bed large enough to accommodate two people, laid with fresh sheets. Right on top of one of its two pillows was a note.


    Melmarc picked it up and read it.


    Complimentary sheets on the house.


    Keep the room clean, you aren¡¯t the owner. You¡¯ll use it and when you¡¯re gone someone else will.


    No girls allowed. Just kidding, bring all the girls you want. Hopefully, one at a time.


    And don¡¯t forget to have fun.


    Regards,


    Mr. Hitchcock.


    ¡°When did he even have the time to do this?¡± Melmarc wondered.


    He hadn¡¯t told him he¡¯d be taking him up on the offer, at least not until two hours ago when he¡¯d made the choice.


    He remembered how Anji said he did a few things for Naymond that were often not so important. Was writing a note and arranging the room on a last minute notice one of those things?


    Come to think of it. Melmarc folded up the note and placed it on the reading table. I¡¯ve never seen Mr. Hitchcock¡¯s handwriting.


    He had a few calls to make, but tired, he found himself lying down on the bed without taking anything but his shoes off.


    He was half asleep when his phone rang.


    Reaching into his pocket, he pulled it out and picked.


    ¡°Talk to me,¡± he said groggily.


    ¡°It¡¯s not even ten yet,¡± Ark said. ¡°You can¡¯t tell me you¡¯re already asleep.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m on my way there, and you¡¯re the only thing standing in my way.¡±


    ¡°Well, good luck trying to get past me.¡± Ark laughed. ¡°Also, Spitfire says good evening.¡±


    ¡°Is that a pet owner thing. Like a dog owner tells you their pet corgi is saying good night, or is your demon actually communicating with you?¡±


    ¡°Pet owner,¡± Ark answered. ¡°And why Corgi?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Would you prefer a great Dane?¡±


    ¡°Maybe. So how was work?¡±


    ¡°Mentally derailing.¡±


    ¡°Why? Are the criminals that bad? Are their crimes taking a toll on your conscience?¡±


    Ark was serious about it, and Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that.


    ¡°Nothing that deep,¡± he answered. ¡°They¡¯ve kept me cooped up in the office for the past two days. At first I thought my mentor just likes us doing desk work, but I¡¯m partnered up with a girl and she got to go out on patrol today.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go with her?¡±


    ¡°Because my mentor insisted I had work to do in the office, stacking papers and arranging people¡¯s offices.¡±


    There was a short pause before Ark replied. ¡°Sounds like your mentor¡¯s making you do work you aren¡¯t supposed to do. Do you think he¡¯s abusing his power and making you clean up after everyone?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Not really. If I¡¯m being honest, he doesn¡¯t make me do anything. He just has this weird habit of meeting in other people¡¯s offices. Come to think of it, I don¡¯t even think he has an office. We spend a day in at least two different offices. And we don¡¯t repeat offices.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a fun guy.¡±


    Melmarc rubbed his tired eyes. ¡°Of course you¡¯d like him. He does things that just seem impulsive. This morning, when my partner left, he started talking to me about the dynamics of portals and their effects on the Skills of a Gifted.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re making this guy sound like a cool dude.¡±


    ¡°Cooler than yours?¡±


    Ark snorted. ¡°You wish. I wrestled a freaking bull at a rodeo today.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to ride those things at rodeos?¡±


    ¡°This one was massive and had muscles on its muscles. And it kind of ran rampant during the rodeo. We were just there to watch. I asked my mentor if I could help out when it started causing too much trouble and he told me to go for it. Best two minutes of my life.¡±


    ¡°Two minutes?¡± Melmarc asked, trying to sound engaging instead of sleepy. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be, like, really strong? You could¡¯ve taken that thing down faster than that.¡±


    ¡°True, but I was trying out wrestling techniques.¡±


    Melmarc groaned. ¡°Please tell me you did not suplex a bull.¡±


    ¡°I suplexed a bull!¡±


    Ark was laughing hard.


    Great, he gets to suplex a bull, and I read things I know nothing about.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t want to wrestle a bull, though. And he didn¡¯t want to go getting into dangerous situations. But he wanted to do something. Anything that got him out of the office.


    He would¡¯ve liked to say he was a good brother and listened to everything Ark had to say, but he didn¡¯t. He fell asleep somewhere between a conversation about a girl Ark had met, and something about a wrestling match in a pit of mud.


    Melmarc slept off and dreamt of stacks of papers and a man lying about a lie he couldn¡¯t figure out.

 FORTY: A Haunted House

    Melmarc strolled into the office the next morning.


    He¡¯d woken up feeling refreshed and ready for another day at the office. His bathroom had its own shower and everything, and a hot one had done him much good. He brushed his teeth, then used the toilet before his shower.


    Dressed and ready, he ordered a ride on a popular taxi app, and left his room.


    The house was quiet outside his room until he got downstairs.


    He found two people on one of the couches. One was Anji, easily recognizable with his gothic hair. The other was a boy he hadn¡¯t yet seen. He kept his hair long and held back in a ponytail, and had a smile that looked very friendly.


    ¡°New kid?¡± the boy asked, still smiling.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he was the one being asked or if Anji was the one the question was intended for.


    He kept quiet and allowed Anji the opportunity to address it.


    Anji stared at him for a second before picking it up. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°So Mr. Hitchcock¡¯s got another minion.¡± His smile widened. ¡°Or are you one of his case studies?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like how the boy said it.


    It must¡¯ve shown because the boy followed up the statement with another, and very quickly.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he said. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it that way. It¡¯s just that almost everyone that¡¯s been in this house long enough knows that Nay only has two types of Gifted he helps out. The first are Gifted that are useful to him in some way. I for one, do his laundry. Anji over here helps with hacking services and all around hospitality.¡±


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell him my Class while you¡¯re at it,¡± Anji sighed.


    The boy shrugged. ¡°I would, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll find out once he runs into Ariadne. She knows everyone¡¯s class. By the way, I¡¯m Nate.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s Nathaniel,¡± Anji interrupted. ¡°No one calls him Nate. At least not here.¡±


    That surprised Melmarc. Nate was a short form for Nathaniel, wasn¡¯t it? And wouldn¡¯t it make sense that people would want to use a shorter name when calling their housemates?


    ¡°Sorry, but why doesn¡¯t anyone call him Nate?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Because Nay likes everyone to call each other by their complete names.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°No one knows. Apparently, once upon a time, he stopped by and lost his shit when he found people calling each other by nicknames.¡±


    Anji sighed deeply. ¡°You make him sound like a mad man, Nathaniel.¡±


    ¡°And you follow all is rules like you¡¯re his kid or something.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a simple rule. It¡¯s not like he¡¯s asking us to call each other by acronyms or something complicated. Besides, the time he lost his cool was like a few years ago. All we know about what happened is from what someone told us someone told them.¡±


    Melmarc looked between both of them. They spoke like they¡¯d known each other for a while.


    I guess they¡¯ve been in this house for at least a month, so that should count for something.


    ¡°So no one knows why he has that rule?¡± he asked.


    Anji shook his head. ¡°But if you ask him he¡¯ll tell you that names are important.¡±


    Melmarc waited. It wasn¡¯t like Anji had ended his sentence abruptly, but it felt like there was supposed to be more. Names are important, but why were names that important?


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Nathaniel continued. ¡°Don¡¯t call me Nate in Nay¡¯s presence if you don¡¯t want him to lose his cool. He won¡¯t drive you out or anything, but you don¡¯t want to get on your landlord¡¯s bad side.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Melmarc said, realizing something. ¡°Does he call all of you by your names?¡±


    Anji and Daniel nodded.


    ¡°And you guys call him Nay?¡±


    Again, they nodded.


    There was something off about that. If names were important, why did Naymond have them calling him by a nickname and not his own name? And why did he give people a false name? He remembered seeing Naymond¡¯s real name and it wasn¡¯t just Naymond Hitchcock.


    What¡¯s up with that?


    Was it another Sage thing? Sages weren¡¯t anything truly extraordinary except for their ability to see the forms of skills and their excessive bonus in their intelligence stats. But they were an enigmatic Class in their own right.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Nathaniel checked his wrist-watch, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re one of the mentees from the police office since he works with them now, and he told us we¡¯d be getting new housemates. If you are, I¡¯d say you¡¯re already running late.¡±


    Melmarc knew that, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to feel like he was really missing anything if he was just going to end up arranging papers in some random office again today.


    ¡°There¡¯s food in the kitchen if you¡¯re hungry,¡± Anji told him. ¡°But be careful. It¡¯s really spicy.¡±


    Melmarc remembered Ariadne telling him the same thing last night. He almost wanted to have a bite to see what they were talking about.


    Wait. If they knew Naymond doesn¡¯t like people calling each other by their short names, why did they tell me to call them by their short names?


    Ariadne had told him to call her Aria last night, and now Nathaniel had told him to call him Nate. What was that about?


    Not wanting to ask more questions than was welcome, he kept the curiosity to himself. He didn¡¯t like not knowing, but sometimes the questions weren¡¯t worth the possible stress.


    Instead, he bid them a quick goodbye, and made his way out the door. His taxi was waiting for him.


    ¡­


    Melmarc walked into the precinct and was greeted by the sight of a smiling Naymond.


    ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± Naymond said, before turning and walking down a path.


    Melmarc was expected to follow him, and he did.


    ¡°The bed was too comfortable,¡± he said.


    It wasn¡¯t necessarily a lie. The bed had been extremely comfortable. But that wasn¡¯t the reason he was late. If he¡¯d left the house earlier, he would¡¯ve been early. Unfortunately, while he¡¯d timed it well enough to arrive on time, his taxi had run into traffic.


    ¡°Of course it was,¡± Naymond snorted. ¡°Anyway, today you¡¯ve got a special assignment.¡±


    He led Melmarc into an entirely new office that was a flight of stairs above them, making sure not to use the elevator.


    Naymond strolled into the office in his deep black suit and equally black hat and made a theatric turn.


    ¡°Told you he was around.¡±


    In the office was Alfa, Pelumi, and David Swan, the person he¡¯d chased down just a few days back.


    Melmarc was confused by how casually someone who was meant to be some kind of criminal was seated on one of the chairs.


    But he never said he was a criminal, Melmarc thought, remembering that all Naymond had done was ask him and Pelumi to catch the man.


    ¡°Oh, before I forget.¡± Naymond held his hand out to him. ¡°Phone, please.¡±


    Melmarc reached into his pocket and paused. Why did the Sage want his phone?


    He looked to Alfa for permission, and she nodded.


    Pulling out his phone, he handed it over to Naymond.


    The Sage took it cheerily and sauntered out of the office. There, he handed it over to a random person that was passing by.


    ¡°You¡¯re headed to IT, right?¡± he told the confused staff. ¡°When you get there, ask specifically for Dinklebottom. It¡¯s not her name, but she¡¯ll know who sent you. Give this to her. Tell her I need the encryption with all the works.¡±


    When he was done, he sent the confused employee on his way. Then he turned back into the office and closed the door behind him.


    ¡°Now where were we?¡±


    Alfa sighed.


    ¡°Before we begin, Melmarc, I want you to be fully and completely aware that you can always say no,¡± she said.


    Naymond snorted. ¡°Of course Mr. Lockwood can always say no. But mind you, Mr. Lockwood, you shouldn¡¯t always say no. Sometimes an affirmative response is all the reply you need. Yes is positive, and positive is good.¡±


    Melmarc looked between a now scowling Alfa and a cheerful Naymond. Then he looked at Pelumi.


    She was seated on the only couch in the office and gave him a shrug that told him she had no idea what was going on.


    He looked at David Swan and found the man had nothing but a frown for him. For the man, he gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Considering how deep the frown was, he didn¡¯t think this was the time for apologies.


    Maybe later.


    ¡°Am I allowed to hear what the request is before I say yes or no?¡± he asked Alfa.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said.


    ¡°See!¡± Naymond interjected. ¡°Isn¡¯t a yes oh so beautiful? Imagine how it would¡¯ve felt if she¡¯d said no. It would¡¯ve been wrong, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    Alfa pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. ¡°Hitchcock, be quiet.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Why do you keep him around again?¡± David asked, his first words since Melmarc had entered the office.


    ¡°Because, believe it or not, he¡¯s useful.¡± Alfa shook her head, then returned her attention to Melmarc. ¡°You remember David, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I do, and I¡¯m really sorry for hitting you so hard.¡±


    ¡°Hitting me so hard?¡± David snorted. ¡°You just hit me while I was off balance, that¡¯s why I stumbled that far.¡±


    ¡°Stumbled?¡± Naymond laughed. ¡°Is that what we¡¯re calling an Olympic class forward dive? Wait, is that a thing? Doesn¡¯t matter. David, you¡¯re a man, accept your actions with pride. You cleared six feet with that dive.¡±


    David held back a frown.


    ¡°Are you sure you want to be riling up your mentee¡¯s support right now?¡± Alfa asked Naymond, glaring at him.


    ¡°True.¡± Naymond adjusted his tie, cleared his throat, and chose silence.


    ¡°Good,¡± Alfa said. ¡°Melmarc, your task today, should you accept it, is to go with Mr. Swan over here. He is currently-and has been for a while¡ªworking as Mr. Hitchcock¡¯s C.I on a specific task.¡±


    Melmarc paused. Naymond had him and Pelumi chasing down his C.I like he was some kind of criminal?


    He looked at Naymond. That¡¯s just wrong.


    ¡°In my defense,¡± Naymond said, reading his expression. ¡°We had to make it look good.¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve told us he was your C.I, though,¡± Pelumi said.


    Alfa dropped her head in her hands. ¡°Of course he didn¡¯t tell you he was his C.I. What was I expecting?¡±


    ¡°I could¡¯ve told her.¡± Naymond pointed a finger at Pelumi, then pointed at Melmarc. ¡°But this guy would¡¯ve blown the entire thing to ashes if I¡¯d told him. He can¡¯t fake an expression to save his life.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± David agreed. ¡°I¡¯ve only been in this room with him for a few minutes and I¡¯ve read all his facial expressions.¡±


    He looked at Alfa. ¡°You sure this is going to work. Personally, I¡¯d pick the African kid.¡±


    Naymond shook his head. ¡°Nope. Some of your colleagues got a good look at her when we came for you.¡±


    ¡°What about the boy?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s as unseen as love in your life. No one saw him. Made sure of it ourselves.¡±


    Was that why he asked me not to be seen? Melmarc wondered.


    ¡°So Melmarc¡¯s our only option,¡± Alfa said. ¡°As long as he says yes.¡±


    ¡°And what exactly am I saying yes to?¡±


    All three adults looked at each other, then at Melmarc.


    ¡°Well,¡± David began. ¡°There¡¯s this¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªUnsavory group that my C.I¡¯s got himself tangled with,¡± Naymond cut him off. ¡°They aren¡¯t necessarily big and bad, but they know a few big and bads.¡±


    ¡°And what do I have to do on this?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Simple. You¡¯ll follow our good friend here and help him engage in a courier task.¡±


    Melmarc looked at all three adults. Alfa looked a little too tense for someone sending a mentee to just go pick something up. Naymond looked as casually unbothered as he always was. And David looked skeptical, like it was a task too complicated for Melmarc.


    Not too complicated, Melmarc thought. He just doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m the right fit.


    Melmarc thought about it for a moment. Did he want to be the right fit?


    He had no idea what it was. Courier service meant he could be carrying anything at all. Judging by how the people they¡¯d found David with looked, it could just as easily be something illegal.


    C.Is bring criminal activities to the police¡¯s attention, right?


    ¡°Stop that.¡±


    Melmarc turned to Naymond. ¡°Stop what?¡±


    ¡°All that thinking. I can literally see you trying to figure out unnecessary things. You¡¯re going to be serving as a short term courier for the space of a couple of days. It¡¯s no biggie.¡±


    Melmarc pointed at the others. ¡°They look like it¡¯s a biggie.¡±


    Naymond followed his fingers, saw the others¡¯ expressions and shook his head in disappointment.


    ¡°Detective Alfa looks like that because she never likes the idea of sending a mentee unsupervised to do anything. Even if it¡¯s something as little as getting a cup of water from the dispenser. And David over here¡¯s just holding a grudge because of what you did to him.¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not,¡± David protested.


    ¡°Bottom line,¡± Naymond continued, ignoring David. ¡°You aren¡¯t doing anything dangerous. David¡¯s going to take you to a house, there¡¯ll be a few other kids there, you¡¯ll pick up a package and deliver it to a specific location.¡±


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Sounds dangerous.¡±


    Naymond threw his hands up. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Someone¡¯s going to take me to a ¡®house¡¯ where I¡¯m going to pick up a ¡®package¡¯ with a few other kids and then proceed to deliver it to a specific ¡®location.¡¯¡±


    Naymond opened his mouth, then closed it. He puckered his lips in thought. ¡°When you put it that way it sounds very dangerous.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t trying to be difficult. But everything about the task was too vague. Where was this house? Who owned it? At least, what was its purpose? Then there was the question of what exactly the package was. Not to talk about where he was taking it to.


    It wasn¡¯t his fault that he liked to know as much as he could about what he was getting into. And why had Pelumi barely said a word?


    Because there are three adults, and they are talking to me not her?


    ¡°What if we told you it would be in your best interest if you didn¡¯t know more about this?¡± Naymond asked.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Only makes it worse.¡±


    ¡°What if we told you what it was and said you weren¡¯t allowed to open it?¡± David asked.


    Melmarc thought about it. He might¡¯ve believed them if they¡¯d started with that, but now it just felt like they were telling him that they were going to lie to him and he just had to accept it. Not believe them, just accept it.


    He¡¯d been standing for a while now, but the entire thing was beginning to sound like a heavy responsibility. It bothered him.


    But in Naymond¡¯s favor, he felt less likely to say no.


    If it was this important, somebody had to do it. Clearly, from what Naymond had said, Pelumi couldn¡¯t do it. And if they were asking him, it meant none of them could do it.


    They need someone young. Someone like one of the mentees.


    ¡°Have you asked the others?¡± he asked them. ¡°I¡¯m sure one of them would be happy to help.¡±


    Jeremy, the lancer, looked like he would be more than happy to engage in something like this. Especially if there was going to be a lot of fighting.


    Alfa looked at David and the C.I shook his head. ¡°Their faces are already common.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but frown at that as he took a seat on the couch. Pelumi shifted to make sufficient room for him.


    Their faces are too common? What does that mean?


    He looked at Naymond in sudden realization. ¡°You knew.¡±


    Naymond gave him a cheery smile, but didn¡¯t comment on it.


    Alfa wasn¡¯t so stingy with her words.


    ¡°Knew what?¡±


    Melmarc suddenly felt tense, like he¡¯d said something he wasn¡¯t supposed to. But how was he supposed to handle this situation? They were claiming that they¡¯d just found out about this operation that required a young mentee who was not known by the general populace of bad guys to do.


    But was it really true? Had they just found out?


    Melmarc thought back to his last few days here. Naymond had done nothing but keep them locked up in the building even when the other detectives had gone out of their way to take their mentees on the road.


    He also kept switching offices every day. Was he making it hard for anyone with real authority to find us and make him take us out?


    There were too many questions. One of which was ¡®why?¡¯


    Was this all part of some plan concocted by Naymond from the very beginning? Sages were smart, very intelligent even, but were they that smart?


    There was also the thing he¡¯d done when they¡¯d gone chasing Swan, predicting exactly how everyone was going to react based on what events took place.


    ¡°He¡¯s doing it again,¡± Naymond sighed.


    Melmarc ignored him. Something told him that asking questions wouldn¡¯t get him answers. Still, there were questions, and he wasn¡¯t one to not ask them.


    But there was also the part of getting Naymond in trouble. Sometimes¡­ no, all the time, he behaved as if the very idea of it was impossible. But it was, right? Alfa was his superior.


    How would she feel if it all was actually planned?


    Alright, Mel. What do we know? Mr. Hitchcock has kept us from going out since we joined. When we went out, it was only to get Mr. Swan. He told me to make sure only Mr. Swan saw me.


    He looked at Naymond. ¡°I went through a small warehouse when I was chasing Mr. Swan. They would¡¯ve seen my face.¡±


    Naymond waved the statement aside. ¡°Those guys work in a completely different industry from Mr. Swan¡¯s friends so we have nothing to worry about on that front.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean they do something different?¡± Alfa asked him. Then she turned to Swan. ¡°I thought your dr¡ªbusiness is the only one currently going on in that part of town. Is there something the both of you are keeping from me?¡±


    David raised his hands in defense. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me. I tell him everything. It¡¯s not my fault if he doesn¡¯t tell you everything.¡±


    Alfa frowned. ¡°Hitchcock, speak.¡±


    ¡°The circumference of the sun is in proper diameter with the circumference of the earth when mapped against the relative positioning of dimensions in the second atmosphere.¡±


    Everybody looked at Naymond.


    ¡°What?¡± Pelumi asked, as confused as everyone else.


    ¡°She asked me to speak.¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°It was either that or recite a verse of Edgar Allen Poe in A-minor.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Poe¡¯s works were write-ups not musical notes.¡±


    ¡°Exactly why it would be fun to do it in A-minor. Because it¡¯s never been done before.¡±


    ¡°Hitchcock,¡± Alfa insisted.


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Naymond walked around the office in slow strides. ¡°Let¡¯s just say that this is not completely a surprise for me.¡±


    Alfa¡¯s brows furrowed.


    ¡°I said not completely,¡± Naymond said. ¡°I mean, there are some parts that are a surprise, but not all of it. I had a feeling they would need couriers at some point. They do have to make a fair exchange. Middle man and all that.¡±


    Alfa turned to David. ¡°And when was I going to be informed of all this?¡±


    ¡°Again,¡± David pointed at Naymond, ¡°I¡¯m his C.I.¡±


    Alfa groaned, then placed her head in her hand. ¡°I swear it¡¯s like working with kids.¡±


    Pelumi opened her mouth, then closed it.


    Probably a better option, Melmarc thought. After all, right now she was about to be working with children.


    A child, to be more specific.


    ¡°You know more than you¡¯re saying,¡± Alfa said suddenly, turning to Naymond.


    ¡°Oh, sweet detective.¡± Naymond cackled theatrically. ¡°I know so many things. But on this matter¡­ You¡¯re right. I do know more than I¡¯m telling you.¡±


    Melmarc looked between the both of them, unsure of their dynamic. Alfa was his boss. That much was clear. Right?


    So why doesn¡¯t she exact authority?


    Ark was older than he was, yet he was always one to speak up when Ark was being a bit too much, to him and or other people.


    And Hitchcock and the others are being a bit too much. So why haven¡¯t you said anything?


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have the answer to that. And he didn¡¯t like it. He really hoped that this was going to be a one-time thing.


    David looked at Melmarc, then at Naymond. ¡°You guys really got to teach this kid how to have a poker face. It¡¯s like his got the best facial communication skills there is.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Naymond said casually. ¡°You should play charades with the kid. You can¡¯t lose.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ back on topic.¡± Naymond spun, headed for the door and opened it. ¡°In three, two, one.¡±


    The same staff that he¡¯d handed Melmarc¡¯s phone walked up to the door with the phone in hand.


    ¡°Oh, thank you, Gerrard. You¡¯re a life saver.¡± Naymond took the device from the staff. ¡°And I will see you for our next scheduled appointment.¡±


    The staff looked completely confused as Naymond closed the door in her face quite gently.


    ¡°Now where was I?¡± He spun back to them. ¡°Oh, yes. On topic. Here¡¯s the works, Mr. Lockwood. Have I told you that you have quite the lovely family name. Sounds old. Like old name. The kind you hear on people from old money. Are you from old money per chance?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. He didn¡¯t think he was.


    His dad¡¯s mother and father lived on the other side of the country and they often called them on video calls every now and again. His mother¡¯s parents had passed a few years back, before the attack.


    And from what he knew, his dad¡¯s parents weren¡¯t rich, or anything of the sort. They were simple people, not Gifted, living simple lives.


    ¡°No matter.¡± Naymond handed him his phone. ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that while this¡­ duty¡­ may feel worrying, it is not. Ms. Pelumi over there could do it with her eyes closed. And you could do it better and faster with your eyes open.¡±


    Melmarc took the phone and immediately paused. He was stuck in the process of putting it back in his pocket. He wasn¡¯t exactly sure what it was, but something felt off. Like¡­


    He wasn¡¯t necessarily sure what it was. It was like a bad haircut, knowing the barber had somehow messed up without even looking at the hair. He looked down at his phone and knew the problem was with the device.


    But what was it?


    He frowned, growing uncomfortable. It was just¡­ wrong. That was the best way he could describe it. So rather than put it in his pocket, he placed it on the couch.


    Pelumi gave him a strange look, split it between him and the phone on the couch, but said nothing.


    When they returned their attention to the conversation, Alfa looked like she was deep in thought as Naymond spoke. Her eyes didn¡¯t dart around. They simply stared at nothing as a frown creased her lips and slowly spread all around her face.


    Melmarc had a feeling she was putting pieces together.


    Either that or she¡¯s reading one or two notifications.


    Now that Melmarc thought about it, there wasn¡¯t very much in the way of finding Gifted who kept staring at the air, reading and learning a thing or two from their notifications.


    David chose his moment to interrupt Naymond while Naymond had ventured into a subject of friendship and comradery to be found in tough times. Why was he talking about that? Melmarc had no idea.


    ¡°If I may.¡± David raised a hand.


    Naymond paused, then shrugged. ¡°Go for it.¡±


    ¡°How about you play supervisor?¡± David said.


    ¡°How?¡± Naymond shook his head. He took his hat off and placed it on the table just beside Alfa. ¡°You know I could never.¡±


    Melmarc watched Naymond smile. It was slow, and wide.


    ¡°I mean,¡± Naymond continued, his expression not matching his words. ¡°Everyone already knows me. And who would I go as. I¡¯m a guy with countless pairs of suits, not a casual clothing to my name. I could claim to be his butler but that would be too high class.¡±


    He adjusted his suit, gave a practiced bow as would be expected of a trained butler. Then he shook his head.


    ¡°No, no, no. That would not work.¡± His expression turned thoughtful, yet excited. ¡°I could be a fixer. Hired in the event of a problem. Or an overseer for the black-axe. Sent to ensure everything goes according to plan. I could have my own thing. Mr. Sunny Altwich.¡± He made a theatrical gesture as if at a sign board. ¡°Overseer extraordinaire.¡±


    Pelumi bumped Melmarc¡¯s shoulder and he looked at her.


    ¡°He really likes to hear himself talk, doesn¡¯t he?¡± she laughed quietly.


    Melmarc responded with a gentle smile. She was right. Naymond certainly did.


    Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t fully appreciate her joke. He was more worried about the task being given to him. Was he going to take it? He wasn¡¯t going to say no at this point. Yes, they made the task sound very shady, but the fact that Alfa had even considered it made it sound necessary.


    Also, they were the police. So while it might be dangerous, despite their best attempts to assure him that it was not, it was definitely legal.


    Alfa was still thinking. She had a full facial scowl that was now turning angry. Beside her, Naymond was silently contemplating what possible role he could play. He was currently on the role of a street beggar with way too much information.


    It made it hard to believe he was taking this seriously.


    As for David, the C.I, he just sat there on the table, quiet.


    Something about Naymond¡¯s thoughtfulness was rubbing Melmarc the wrong way. It didn¡¯t necessarily feel bad. Just wrong.


    ¡°Motherfucker!¡± Alfa hissed suddenly.


    Then she rounded on Naymond and shoved him into the wall.


    ¡°Language, detective,¡± Naymond chided.


    David shifted slightly where he was seated and Alfa pointed a warning finger at him.


    ¡°You move and I¡¯ll shoot you in the back. Twice.¡±


    David turned as still as a statue.


    Alfa turned back to Naymond who was smiling in her hold.


    ¡°I should¡¯ve known.¡± The anger in her voice was clear. ¡°This has you written all over it. Just last two weeks Jake was talking about how drug activities had taken a very silent turn amongst the Gifted recently. Then the old crew down south suddenly went out of business. The entire crew gone. Just like that.¡±


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°A stroke of luck?¡±


    ¡°Miss me with that bullshit. David, when did the Black Axe make contact? And don¡¯t you dare lie to me.¡±


    ¡°About a month ago,¡± David answered. ¡°They made contact with at least three crews from what I heard.¡±


    ¡°And then the crews started disappearing.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what was going on. Not that it surprised him. He¡¯d been here barely a week.


    As for the accusations Alfa was leveling, he found himself wondering what exactly she was accusing Naymond of.


    It couldn¡¯t be of taking down three gangs, right? He was a Sage. His class wasn¡¯t combat oriented. Yes, they were all non-Gifted, but still¡­


    ¡°He could if he put his mind to it,¡± Pelumi said, as if reading his thoughts.


    ¡°You think so?¡± he asked, skeptical. ¡°Sages don¡¯t fight on the front line. Most of them don¡¯t fight at all.¡±


    ¡°But he could if he wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Yes, he could.¡± It was Alfa who answered. ¡°Naymond has already proven on multiple occasions that he¡¯s not like most Sages.¡±


    She let him go with a resigned sigh and stepped back.


    Naymond adjusted his suit. ¡°I guess I will not be going undercover, then.¡±


    Alfa shook her head. ¡°If you have your grubby hands all over this, then I¡¯m sure important people are interested in this thing. So no, you won¡¯t be going undercover. However, you will be playing an active role. Melmarc.¡±


    Melmarc perked up at his name. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    It was instinctual. He hadn¡¯t even thought about it, he¡¯d just answered.


    ¡°I would not put this on you if it wasn¡¯t very important.¡± She looked like the words were going to make her throw up. ¡°However, if Hitchcock says it¡¯s safe, then it is. I can vouch for him on at least that. He¡¯s a lot of things, but a liar isn¡¯t one of them.¡±


    That was a quick turn-around, considering she¡¯d been shoving him against the wall just a few seconds ago.


    ¡°Uhh.¡± Naymond looked around her to Melmarc. ¡°I¡¯m actually a liar. And a very proficient one at that. I could sell my grandma and convince the seller that it¡¯s my grandpa.¡±


    No one answered him. Melmarc was confused.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the seller?¡± he asked.


    Naymond smiled cheerily. ¡°My point exactly.¡±


    It didn¡¯t do anything to help Melmarc¡¯s confusion, but he let it go. He had a feeling further conversation would do nothing but confuse him.


    Naymond was only understood when he wanted to be understood.


    ¡°So the kid¡¯s doing it?¡± David asked.


    Alfa nodded. ¡°He¡¯s our best shot at this.¡±


    ¡°Our only shot, actually,¡± Naymond said.


    Pelumi raised her hand.


    Naymond smiled at her. ¡°Yes, Ms. Pelumi.¡±


    ¡°Not to step on any toes, but why am I here if you only need Marc?¡±


    ¡°Because I was initially going to use you to appeal to his masculine ego to want to impress you. I was wondering why the both of you didn¡¯t come in together today, but I figured it wouldn¡¯t change much. Boys his age have always been interested in impressing the girl.¡±


    It¡¯s official, Melmarc thought. I don¡¯t think I like him.


    ¡°Hitchcock,¡± Alfa said.


    ¡°Yes, detective.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    Alfa turned to Pelumi. ¡°He¡¯s ranting a lot but that¡¯s not the reason you¡¯re here. Melmarc¡¯s task is supposed to take place in a few hours, and David¡¯s the one driving him.¡±


    Melmarc and Pelumi waited.


    ¡°Your job,¡± Alfa continued, ¡°is to sit in the back seat of the car and ensure that David drives Melmarc to this location and drops him off without a problem.¡±


    She handed Pelumi a piece of paper which the girl took. When she opened it, it was a picture of a house with an address scribbled at the bottom.


    Melmarc grimaced. ¡°That¡¯s where I¡¯m going?¡±


    The building looked like some abandoned house children would dare each other to go into just for kicks and giggles.


    ¡°Looks like a haunted house,¡± Pelumi said.


    Naymond snorted. ¡°Haunted by incompetent wannabe gangsters, at best.¡±


    Alfa shot him a look.


    ¡°What? Don¡¯t tell me you really believe that group of riff-raffs are really gangsters. In my days we¡¯d wipe the floor with all of them, then mop it with what¡¯s left.¡±


    ¡°Hitchcock!¡± Alfa snapped, then sighed. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s like I¡¯m working with a child.¡±


    Naymond merely shrugged and kept quiet.


    Melmarc took the chance to point out the issue that had been bothering him with his phone.


    He picked the phone from where he¡¯d placed it and held it up. Just touching it was giving him some level of discomfort. But he knew it was mainly the discomfort of not knowing.


    ¡°Who¡¯s phone is this?¡± he asked.


    Pelumi looked at it. ¡°Yours.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    Naymond smiled at him. ¡°You don¡¯t think the phone¡¯s yours?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head again.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t say exactly why he thought it wasn¡¯t his phone. He just knew it wasn¡¯t. It was like putting on a shirt that was perfectly identical to yours and knowing it wasn¡¯t yours. Maybe because it didn¡¯t fit just right or it smelled just wrong.


    It was something. He was sure of it. The problem was that he just didn¡¯t know what it was.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Naymond mused. ¡°So you don¡¯t know how you know, but you just know.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°What are the chances that it¡¯s a side-effect of your skill or due to your stats?¡±


    ¡°My skill is making me suspect things that may or may not be?¡± Melmarc didn¡¯t like the sound of that. He hadn¡¯t even heard of side-effects of skills.


    He knew of draw-backs like cool downs for skills but not side effects that happened even without using the skill.


    Also, even without proof he felt too certain of it. The phone wasn¡¯t his. Just to be sure, he unlocked the display and scrolled his way to his pictures.


    Three thousand, two hundred and fifty-six. Sounds about right.


    He didn¡¯t have an exact number of how many pictures he had, but he knew it was around that number. Was he wrong?


    He opened the picture folder while Naymond watched him with an intrigued smile.


    David wasn¡¯t as interested. ¡°Do we really have time for¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shush.¡± Naymond waved him down. ¡°This is more important to me than your little make believe gangsters.¡±


    Melmarc opened his pictures and found they were basically what were supposed to be there. He rarely took pictures of himself, and when he did, it was usually either his brother or Delano behind the camera, taking the pictures of him. So his gallery consisted mostly of memes and internet pictures.


    Wait a minute.


    He scrolled further. The memes and internet pictures would be the same, but what about the few individual pictures, the personalized ones?


    Why am I hung up on this? He asked himself as he scrolled.


    When he found some personalized pictures, he stopped on one of them. Then he turned it for the others to see. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    On his phone was a picture of him and two guys he¡¯d never seen in his life, standing in front of a building he¡¯d never been to before.


    ¡°That,¡± Naymond announced happily. ¡°Is state of the art editing tech.¡±


    Melmarc looked back at the picture. ¡°And these guys are?¡±


    ¡°No idea.¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°AI generated? Slave workers in the gulf of Venezuela? Children of one or more of our beautiful employees?¡±


    Alfa groaned. ¡°God I hope not. We don¡¯t need a Norbert travesty all over again.¡±


    Melmarc looked between the both of them. ¡°What¡¯s the Norbert travesty?¡±


    ¡°Some IT guy didn¡¯t want to go through the whole research for buildings and faces, so he just edited in media and contacts from the people he knew.¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°In his defense it was a last minute thing, so¡­ not entirely his fault.¡±


    Melmarc panicked for a moment. ¡°You guys edited my phone?¡±


    Pelumi shook her head in disappointment. ¡°Not cool.¡±


    ¡°Are you guys kidding me?¡± David looked from one person in the room to the other. ¡°What kind of pampering shit is this. When did people start questioning operations like this. You¡¯ve got kids asking you questions they shouldn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡± Alfa hissed. ¡°You, David. This is not some stupid gang were you get teethed when you ask too many questions, so not a word from you about how I train the kids. And no, Melmarc. We didn¡¯t edit your phone. That¡¯s just a clone. A perfect copy of your device with similar but entirely different pieces of information.¡±


    Naymond nodded, then came to squat in front of Melmarc while Melmarc wondered what exactly it meant to be teethed. This was the second time he was hearing it, and not in a positive light.


    ¡°If you look through it,¡± Naymond said, ¡°you¡¯ll see that a lot of things are similar. You are still the same person in every picture you¡¯ve taken. We¡¯ve just swapped out the background and the people in it. Your contacts are also different.¡±


    Melmarc quickly went to his contacts. He scrolled straight to Ark¡¯s and checked the digits.


    ¡°You changed my brother¡¯s number?¡± He scrolled to Dorthna, then Ninra, then his dad¡¯s. ¡°Are any of my contacts still here?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Naymond winced. ¡°And no.¡±


    Melmarc took a deep breath, calmed himself. They were asking him to go and do something that was already questionable. And on top of that, they were completely disconnecting him from everyone he knew.


    What if something went wrong?


    ¡°So where¡¯s my phone?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s with IT,¡± Alfa answered. ¡°I¡¯ll have someone bring it over, and you¡¯ll get it once you¡¯re back.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if they knew, but this made the task seem all the more dangerous. Why were they taking his phone away? And why were they giving him a fake one?


    ¡°It¡¯s just a precaution,¡± Naymond said.


    ¡°Sounds like more than a precaution.¡± Melmarc looked through some other contacts. The names were the same but it wasn¡¯t like he knew all the numbers on his phone. It was the reason he¡¯d checked only the ones he knew. ¡°Did they change all the numbers?¡±


    Naymond nodded. ¡°But they left your playlist alone, if that¡¯s any consolation.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what that had to do with anything.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°My contact is saved under Mr. Lockwood and the detective¡¯s saved under Mrs. Lockwood.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a bit strange?¡± Melmarc looked between the both of them. ¡°I mean, you guys saving your numbers under my parents.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s strange,¡± David said, ¡°is you saving your parents names under anything but mom and dad.¡±


    Melmarc had a feeling there was supposed to be some kind of complaint in there, or berating of some kind. Whichever one it was, he didn¡¯t care. David was not the first person to make that comment.


    Alfa clapped her hand to get everyone¡¯s attention back.


    ¡°Now that I have your attention,¡± she said, when she had it. ¡°If you need anything, Melmarc, you can call us. If the task begins to feel too heavy, you can just not deliver the package. It¡¯s not important enough to cause a problem. Now, if we¡¯re all good, can we get back to other tasks?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll like to brief the boy on what he should and shouldn¡¯t do during the whole thing,¡± David said. ¡°If that¡¯s okay.¡±


    ¡°Of course it is.¡± Naymond picked up his hat and placed it on his head. ¡°And I¡¯ll be here to listen to the whole thing. Ms. Pelumi, too.¡±


    Then he took a quick look at his phone, turned to Alfa and tapped his empty wrist.


    If he had the luxury of wearing a complete three-piece suit everyday, Melmarc figured he should be more than able to get a wrist-watch.


    Or does he have something against wrist-watches?


    ¡°Alright, guys.¡± Alfa got up from the table and made her way for the door. ¡°Remember, this is important, but not so important that we can¡¯t keep the investigation going without it.¡±


    Then she left the four of them alone in the room.


    Pelumi looked around at the remaining people in the room. She had a confused expression.


    When she saw Melmarc looking at her, she asked, ¡°Is it just me or did you not say yes, but everyone¡¯s just acting like you did.¡±


    He noticed that, too. But he didn¡¯t really mind. It wasn¡¯t like he hadn¡¯t already accepted the task. Instead, he was more interested in what Naymond had insinuated about his skill being the reason he knew the phone wasn¡¯t his.


    How exactly did that work?

 FORTY-ONE: FORM

    David and Naymond gave Melmarc what could be considered a basic run-down of his task. And by David and Naymond, it was mostly David doing the talking and Naymond adding background interruptions and the occasional commentary on unreasonable things.


    Naymond talked quite often¡­ and a lot. But it wasn¡¯t like him to talk about the unnecessary.


    Judging by the way Pelumi looked at him from time to time, Melmarc was certain that he wasn¡¯t the only one who noticed it.


    The entire task, when dumbed down to the specifics by David, didn¡¯t sound so dangerous anymore. It didn¡¯t even sound very important.


    Naymond seemed to find the explanations and directions endlessly boring. He kept walking up to the walls and running his fingers along it and checking for what Melmarc couldn¡¯t figure out.


    It was a simple task. And while the concept of the house he would be sent to, the item he would pick, and the drop-off location were skeptical, the journey seemed easy enough.


    Then David pulled out a map from one of the drawers of the table he was sitting on and spread it on the table.


    Naymond groaned. ¡°Do we really need to go that far?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± David didn¡¯t even look up from him.


    ¡°Seems like a complete waste, though.¡± Naymond went back to finding a spot on the chair surprisingly fascinating.


    ¡°So here¡¯s the house you¡¯ll be starting from,¡± David said, pointing at a spot on the map. ¡°This is a map of that area so it¡¯s not very large. We¡¯re banking on them not requiring you to go outside this area.¡±


    Pelumi bent the map to get a better view of something. ¡°And what if they want him to go outside that area?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got another map for that.¡± David reached behind the desk once more and provided another rolled up map.


    This one was larger.


    Melmarc held up the phone that was not his phone. ¡°Or I could just use the gps.¡±


    David dropped the new map on the table without opening it. Behind him, Naymond chuckled.


    ¡°These houses,¡± David said, ¡°aren¡¯t going to have numbers and street names. How do you put in eight street, fourth lane, and fifth house on a map?¡±


    When he put it like that, it made more sense.


    ¡°Kind of stupid to expect high schoolers to be able to figure that out, don¡¯t you think?¡± Naymond walked up to them and took a look at the map. ¡°Your map¡¯s also kind of complicated. I say we throw it all out.¡±


    David sighed, and Melmarc got the idea that Naymond liked pissing people off.


    ¡°They don¡¯t want some random high schooler.¡± David moved the map out of Naymond¡¯s reach. ¡°They want high schoolers with a certain level of intelligence that will guarantee the package is dropped off properly. We¡¯re trying to get him to the final not to end at the starting line.¡±


    ¡°Final¡¯s in like what? Three weeks.¡± Naymond snorted. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Three weeks?¡± Melmarc looked between the both of them. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be here in three weeks.¡±


    ¡°Not a big deal.¡± Naymond didn¡¯t seem bothered. ¡°We can always extend your mentorship period. Say it¡¯s due to exceptional service or demanded due to grave necessity. If housing is the issue, don¡¯t worry about it. You can stay at my place for as long as you like.¡±


    Housing was definitely not the problem. Melmarc simply didn¡¯t want to be the Gifted that over-shot the period for his mentorship program. His parents hadn¡¯t even gotten to learn of the fact that he was a Gifted.


    They hadn¡¯t been back since they¡¯d left for their last trip. And while Melmarc didn¡¯t show it, it was worrying him quite a lot. He didn¡¯t think he could even function properly outliving his mentorship period.


    ¡°Is it the return flight?¡± Naymond asked, curious.


    Pelumi looked up from the map. ¡°Return flight?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Naymond brought out his phone and checked it. ¡°Some mentees like to book round trips. That way they know when they¡¯re coming and going. No idea why they do it.¡±


    ¡°Maybe because it¡¯s cheaper,¡± Pelumi suggested.


    Naymond shook his head. ¡°The Government pays for your flights back and forth.¡±


    ¡°Anyway¡­¡± Naymond put the phone back in his pocket. ¡°I say we throw out the map and let Mr. Lockwood wing it.¡±


    David shook his head. ¡°I say we don¡¯t. These guys will be judging based on time, knowledge and discretion. Which means that if he wants to get to the finals, he needs to be on top of his game every time.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure David and Naymond understood what was going on. He wasn¡¯t going to make it to the finals. He didn¡¯t want to.


    So he told them.


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be here in three weeks.¡± He was hoping to make it quite clear. ¡°My mentorship ends in two weeks, and then I¡¯m going home.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not in three weeks,¡± David said.


    Melmarc pointed at Naymond. ¡°He just said it was in three weeks.¡±


    ¡°And it¡¯s not. We¡¯re prepping for an event that¡¯s supposed to go down in the next eight days. They¡¯ll have you make four deliveries in eight days, as long as you keep being successful.¡±


    Melmarc just looked at him.


    ¡°But Naymond said three weeks,¡± Pelumi repeated.


    ¡°And Naymond says random things from time to time.¡± David looked between them as if he was looking at dumb children. ¡°You work with him. I would assume you know that by now.¡±


    This entire day was making it harder for Melmarc to trust Naymond. He¡¯d thought of Naymond as someone a bit on the eccentric side with all the office shuffling and arranging. Now, he was finding that he couldn¡¯t take the Sage seriously.


    He did say he was a felon that shouldn¡¯t be trusted.


    And yet, he worked for the police. Melmarc still didn¡¯t know what that was about.


    As for Naymond, he remained in the corner. He was studying a picture now. It was framed and small.


    ¡°Can we continue now?¡± David asked.


    With everything Melmarc knew about the task now, he was in agreement that learning the map was necessary. He clearly couldn¡¯t use a gps if they were going to give him directions based on street location and house positions without actual names and numbers.


    By the end of the conversation, Melmarc had a vague idea of what was required of him. From David¡¯s speculation, what he was doing was similar to what would be done when Melmarc got to the house.


    The people he would meet would show him a map. Then they would point out where he was supposed to go. At the end of it all, he would have to navigate his way there.


    Another piece of information David gave him was that through out his journey he would have eyes on him.


    ¡°Even if you notice them, don¡¯t show it,¡± David said, rolling up the map. ¡°Just keep your eyes on the task, and show no big interest in the package and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°And what do I do once I get to the destination?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°You go in, hand over the package, get your hundred bucks and get out.¡±


    Pelumi folded her arms. ¡°Sounds easy enough.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t disagree. Still, he had a strange feeling about it. Maybe he was just nervous. He wasn¡¯t the adventurous brother, after all. That was more of Ark¡¯s speed. Ark could look at the risks and still do it.


    Uncle Dorthna had once called Ark the gambling brother.


    So asking him to do a task he didn¡¯t know everything about felt a bit too much. But if I only do things I know everything about, I¡¯d never do anything.


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Naymond clapped loudly. ¡°That¡¯s enough confusion for thirty minutes. Let¡¯s allow Mr. Lockwood stew in his thoughts for another thirty minutes then reconvene.¡±


    He gestured for David to leave.


    With a few mutters and nothing coherent, David got up and gave them the room.


    When he was gone, Naymond just stood there in his suit, arms folded.


    ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°Which one¡¯s it going to be? Will you stew or ask me the questions you want to ask me?¡±


    Melmarc played around with the question for a bit. Did he really want to sit here and think about the entire thing?


    Am I really even going to think about it?


    He wouldn¡¯t come up with any alternate answer in the next hour or two. If it was something that had to be done in maybe two days, then he would definitely need to think about it. If he slept on it, he was sure he could wake up with one reason or the other not to do it. A reason that would maybe convince him not to.


    But this was basically last minute. Did they tell him now just so that it would be difficult for him to have ample time to think about it?


    Still, he knew he wouldn¡¯t say no. They¡¯d made the task seem too important. And as much as he hated to admit it, he had a habit of being there if he thought it mattered. He did it for Ark, Delano, Eroms¡­


    And now I¡¯m going to do it for the police department.


    But why? What made him say yes to situations like this?


    Do I have some kind of hero complex?


    This was beginning to bother him. Maybe Ark wasn¡¯t the only one that needed therapy. He shook the thought and turned his attention back to Naymond.


    ¡°How long have you known?¡± he found himself asking.


    Naymond walked around the table and sat in the office seat. It was made of black leather. ¡°Since we picked David up. David gave us the run down of everything that was happening and Alfa and I brainstormed on what we would do.¡±


    ¡°Are you willing to share how this brainstorming session went?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. It¡¯s not like there was anything deep about it.¡± He picked up a random piece of paper and started folding it as he talked. ¡°Alfa thought we should tail the kids and arrest the people at the final pickup, but I said no. Would put the kids at too much of a risk. Then she suggested that David probably leak the exact location somehow.¡±


    ¡°And you said no,¡± Pelumi said.


    ¡°Gods no.¡± Naymond laughed, ignoring the paper for a moment. ¡°I was all for that one. It would probably take a lot for him to get information that important early enough for us to do anything with it, but I do enjoy watching the man squirm under pressure.¡±


    ¡°Then why aren¡¯t we doing that?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Because Alfa concluded all on her own that it would be too risky for David and we still needed him for more investigations.¡± Naymond snorted. ¡°I keep telling her we can do all this without him but she insists we keep him around. I could go above her head and appeal my case. But where¡¯s the fun in that?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that. So he asked the question again.


    ¡°I meant how long have you known.¡±


    Naymond paused, then smiled.


    Pelumi looked between the both of them, confused.


    Naymond nodded in acknowledgement. ¡°You pick up quick. Well, as quick as can be expected.¡±


    ¡°What did you pick up quick?¡± Pelumi asked Melmarc.


    ¡°He¡¯s always known about this task,¡± he answered. ¡°Even before we went to get David. When you got out of the car, he asked me to make sure I don¡¯t get seen.¡±


    Then he watched her piece everything together. When she was done, she frowned.


    ¡°You knew even before our mentorship started,¡± she said, looking at Naymond. ¡°It¡¯s why he chose us.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Naymond said. ¡°It¡¯s why I chose him. You were just a beautiful stroke of Invoker luck. I¡¯ve always been enamored by your Class but rarely ever get the chance to study it. Do you know that Invokers and Priests are the only Classes that get Faith points?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know about Pelumi but he definitely didn¡¯t know that.


    ¡°It¡¯s an amusing thing.¡± Naymond flattened the paper he¡¯d been folding with his elbow. ¡°What¡¯s even more amusing is that none of you have any real idea what it does. Seers get Fate points but they know what that does so it¡¯s boring and of no interest to me. But Faith points.¡±


    He placed his elbows on his desk and leaned forward. ¡°What do Priests and Invokers do with Faith points. Clearly the idea of mana and gods should not co-exist. Because if there should be a God or a pantheon of gods that belong to earth, then what about those places were the portals lead to?¡±


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    ¡°I thought we said they were just mana phenomenon,¡± Melmarc answered.


    Naymond wagged his finger at them. ¡°No, no, Mr. Lockwood. We said some of them are mana phenomenon. But even Ms. Pelumi argues the fact that her summons might not just be some insignificant clumps of mana pooled together and controlled by some Artificial Intelligence born of mana. Isn¡¯t that right, Ms. Pelumi?¡±


    Pelumi nodded, uncertain.


    While this conversation was interesting, Melmarc wondered if this was how they were going to spend their next thirty minutes, talking about gods. Personally, it was his opinion that if angels were real, then there was bound to be some logic to the concept of gods.


    They probably exist but not in the way the religious and spiritual made them out to be. Right?


    They¡¯re probably really strong enemies behind some portal somewhere.


    Somehow the thought did not reassure him in anyway. Instead, it terrified him.


    He could picture Delvers fighting angels. But gods¡­


    That¡¯s a stretch.


    It was a scary thought. This wasn¡¯t the movies where some guy gained power and challenged the gods. Or some video game where a man went marauding all over the place killing gods in the name of vengeance.


    This was real life.


    ¡°So we have to ask ourselves,¡± Naymond was saying. ¡°If there are no gods, then what are Faith points? Are they left to the discretion of Invokers and Priests to decide what they are? Are they like skills that can be malleable to some extent based on what the Gifted decides?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know that skills were malleable in any way. He knew they showed great diversity based on how you upgraded them. But malleable¡­ he¡¯d never heard of that.


    Pelumi shook her head. ¡°I thought about it and I don¡¯t think my summons are truly alive. If they were, it would be like claiming that I was summoning them from another part of the world.¡±


    Naymond¡¯s look softened as she spoke. He looked like a man giving a child enough time to come to a realization just so that he could tell them that they were wrong.


    Pelumi didn¡¯t seem to notice it as she went on. In fact, she sounded as if she was convincing herself and not Naymond.


    ¡°If Summoners and Invokers were summoning people from all over the world, then people would have already been talking about it.¡±


    ¡°There could be another possible theory,¡± Melmarc offered as a thought came to mind.


    ¡°Like what?¡± Pelumi asked. ¡°We clearly aren¡¯t bringing them from beyond the portal. Nothing beyond the portal has that level of emotional presence. Not like the summons do. And we don¡¯t find humans inside portals. There would¡¯ve been reports of such things. So that doesn¡¯t count.¡±


    ¡°What of Players?¡±


    Something flew at Melmarc¡¯s head so fast he barely moved his head in time to avoid it. It struck the wall behind the couch and fell to the ground.


    When he turned, he saw an alarmed, surprised, yet amused look on Naymond¡¯s face.


    ¡°What¡¯s a Player?¡± Pelumi asked.


    ¡°A Player,¡± Naymond said pointedly. ¡°Is a person who picks up a controller, turns on a console, and goes online to play video games.¡±


    Melmarc glared at him. ¡°What? That¡¯s not what¡ª¡±


    ¡°That.¡± Naymond returned his glare. ¡°Is what a player is supposed to be. Now I don¡¯t know how you have that specific piece of information, but I very much assure you that it is well above your pay grade.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get paid.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s above your rank.¡±


    Pelumi watched the both of them through narrowed eyelids. ¡°A Player isn¡¯t what you just told me it is, is it?¡±


    Naymond shot her a charming smile. ¡°Of course not, Ms. Pelumi. A Player also plays games offline. And while there are more definitions of a Player, our good Mr. Lockwood does not realize that he has just admitted to knowing something even the one percent of the world does not know. Or,¡± he looked at Melmarc, ¡°maybe it¡¯s common knowledge where he¡¯s coming from. Which will mean that he¡¯s among the one percent of the one percent.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like the way Naymond was emphasizing on the one percent.


    ¡°Either way,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°It is information I would advise he keep to himself for the foreseeable future if he doesn¡¯t want to end up in trouble or put someone else in trouble. As for Ms. Pelumi¡¯s theory, she¡¯s not wrong. I was aware of this entire possibility, and I cannot stress the word ¡®possibility¡¯ enough, before you came in.¡±


    It was odd how he thought he could drop such a heavy bomb and just expect everyone to move on from it.


    ¡°And you picked Marc because he was a Faker?¡± Pelumi asked, to Melmarc¡¯s surprise.


    She sounded like she¡¯d really dropped her curiosity in Players.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Naymond answered Pelumi.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, for starters, would you be a dear, Mr. Lockwood, and pass me my little project?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to think about it. He reached behind the couch for what Naymond had thrown at him.


    It was a thick piece of paper crafted to look like a Ninja¡¯s shuriken. He picked it up by one of its intended blade.


    ¡°Careful now, Mr. Lockwood,¡± Naymond said quickly. ¡°Those things can be sharp.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what he was talking about. The thing was thick and strong and blunt. It was clearly the result of folding too many pieces of paper together.


    ¡°You can just throw it,¡± Naymond told him when he moved to get up. ¡°No need to get up and stress yourself.¡±


    Melmarc threw it and it landed on the desk.


    Naymond picked it up and admired it. ¡°As for Melmarc being a Faker, Ms. Pelumi, that was nothing but a stroke of luck. If I¡¯m being honest, I would¡¯ve preferred an agility type with sufficient spatial awareness, as well as a good awareness of their surroundings.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°I needed him for a more combat based support role. The plan was to storm this specific gathering and bring the group down in one go.¡±


    ¡°Then why combat based support?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°Was I somehow supposed to be part of the whole thing?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t expect a mentee to be a part of the fight,¡± Pelumi said. ¡°Detective Alfa already said that¡¯s not allowed.¡±


    Naymond shook his head. ¡°You guys have it all wrong. I said I needed someone with awareness. Mr. Lockwood has something in that category. His skill, while it doesn¡¯t have a range as wide as I would like, gives him awareness of his surroundings to a good degree. I estimate that if he keeps mastering it, he might be offered a mapping skill.¡±


    A mapping skill? Melmarc hadn¡¯t even considered that possibility.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t mapping skills more for scout Classes?¡± he asked. ¡°Like Rogues and Rangers and Thieves.¡±


    Naymond chuckled. ¡°You do know that only one of those three Classes is actually a scouting class, right, Mr. Lockwood? And that¡¯s the Rogue Class.¡±


    ¡°How is there even a class called Thief?¡± Pelumi asked. ¡°Where I come from they frown severely on the thief Class. It¡¯s almost as if the world is saying that a Thief is an important part of life.¡±


    Naymond was checking his phone again. ¡°Well, in all fairness, a thief is important.¡±


    ¡°How much time do we have left?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Naymond perked up at that. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You keep checking your phone for the time. How much time do we have?¡±


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°No idea. And I¡¯m not checking the time.¡±


    He turned the phone and Melmarc saw that he was on a chat group. It had a dark background and the fonts were of different colors that gave him a distinct programming vibe.


    ¡°It¡¯s the dark web.¡± Naymond turned the phone back to himself. ¡°Don¡¯t tell the detective. I¡¯m not supposed to be on it. But, in compromise, I don¡¯t chat anymore, I just gather information I use to help solve cases. For example, this is how I found out I¡¯ll need someone with special awareness for my next plan. I¡¯m on some conspiracy theorist group where they think the group we¡¯re chasing after has gotten their hands on a Crafter that can craft a drug to temporarily give people powers. There¡¯s another vampire theory, something to do with the Romanians. Close, but not quite there yet.¡±


    Pelumi¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡±


    Melmarc was stuck on the part where his sub-mentor was on a conspiracy theory group. What were the chances Delano and Naymond were in the same group?


    As for it being impossible to give normal people powers, Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure about how impossible it was. After all, there were a few Classes with skills that could temporarily grant status buffs to other Gifted. What was to say there couldn¡¯t be a way to grant other benefits?


    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong,¡± Naymond agreed. ¡°But you¡¯re not right. I¡¯m guessing the drugs would grant some kind of buff to the non-Gifted for a period of time. While the government would rather not have that, we¡¯re trying to stop it for the sole purpose of the possible side-effects and addictive nature of the drug.¡±


    ¡°Side effects?¡± Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to know just what kind of side-effects could come from a drug that gave people skills.


    ¡°No one knows yet. We just know there has to be.¡±


    ¡°And what if there¡¯s none?¡± Pelumi asked.


    Naymond grinned. ¡°Then there¡¯ll be nothing the government will have against the drug.¡±


    Pelumi snorted. ¡°The government would just allow a drug like that run rampant? Dey play.¡±


    ¡°What does that even mean?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°It means you should keep deceiving yourself,¡± Naymond said. ¡°I believe it¡¯s a Nigerian slang. You use it when someone has said something wrong with too much confidence. Usually something that favors themselves in a certain context. For instance, I said the government would be okay with a drug not under their control as long as it has no addictive effect or side-effect.¡±


    ¡°Which is obviously delusional,¡± Pelumi said.


    ¡°And in response, she said,¡± Naymond gestured at her, ¡°Dey play. Which means I¡¯m being na?ve, overconfident or stupid. Or I¡¯m just outright talking crap.¡±


    ¡°Na?ve,¡± Pelumi confirmed very quickly. ¡°Not stupid. It¡¯s not intended to be insulting.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. Dey play.


    It was such a weird slang. Or it could just be him. Just because something existed outside the known cultural norm, it didn¡¯t make it weird.


    Right?


    ¡°Now that we¡¯ve settled that.¡± Naymond got up from his seat, abandoning his paper craft on the table. ¡°Let¡¯s go meet up with my C.I and get ready for this program of ours.¡±


    Melmarc got up along with Pelumi when he remembered what he really wanted to ask.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± he said quickly. ¡°What did you mean when you said that my ability to tell that the phone wasn¡¯t mine was a side effect of my skill?¡±


    Naymond paused at the door. ¡°I meant what I meant.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow. ¡°Sorry, but that doesn¡¯t help.¡±


    Naymond turned and leaned against the door. ¡°What¡¯s your skill mastery currently at? I mean the both of them.¡±


    Melmarc pulled up his information with a simple thought.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Skateboarding (Mastery 65.93%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Status: August Guest +0.5 to all stats, Intruder -0.5 to all stats.


    He focused on his rank, and the information switched.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Gossip (Mastery 10.19%)]


    [Rank: B]


    Skills


    Knowledge Is Power (Mastery 4.89%)


    While skill is in effect you can neither inflict damage nor be damaged.


    Conclusion of skill will end inability to deal damage or be damaged.


    Conclusion of skill grants conditional mastery of all information received for eight minutes.


    All threats, allies, and neutrals detected are highlighted for eight minutes.


    Skill perks:


    Agility +2 Balance +1 Mental +3 Mana +1


    Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 3.67%)


    Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +0.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.


    ¡­


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Status: August Guest +0.5 to all stats, Intruder -0.5 to all stats.


    Melmarc read the mastery for each skill to Naymond and Naymond let out a low whistle.


    ¡°I guess we can say we know what side of the unranked scale you ended up in.¡±


    As for Pelumi, she was far more surprised. ¡°How did you get your skill mastery that high? I¡¯ve been using my summoning skill any chance I get and I¡¯m only at 4% mastery.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s his growth potential,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°Yours is¡­ Sorry, do you mind if I tell him yours?¡±


    Pelumi shrugged. ¡°Sure.¡±


    ¡°So yours is a C but his is on a different wave-length. It¡¯s more of a double edged sword when it has not been confirmed. But I¡¯m fairly certain which side of the spectrum it ended up.¡±


    Pelumi turned to Melmarc. ¡°What¡¯s your growth potential? De¡¯andre¡¯s got a B-rank growth potential which is the highest among the mentees.¡±


    Melmarc hesitated before he answered. ¡°Mine is unranked.¡±


    Pelumi just stared at him.


    That was the expression Melmarc had been expecting from the examiner when he¡¯d gone to register his Class with Ark.


    ¡°But there are no Unranked growth potentials.¡± Pelumi turned to Naymond. ¡°Everyone knows that.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he confirmed. ¡°But in the last three years we¡¯ve been experiencing people who have registered unranked growth potentials. They aren¡¯t that many. And I mean they are so few that the American government is only aware of four right now. One of which is an S-rank with a world skill.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s mind went to Eroms almost immediately. What were the chances Naymond was talking about him?


    ¡°When their growth potential is confirmed to be unranked, they are given a card,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°Then, according to the processes in place, the card is upgraded when they pick a Gifted school based on if they intend to be Delvers or not. Finally, it¡¯s replaced with a dog-tag. Something they can keep on themselves at all times. I say it¡¯s a process because we don¡¯t yet have an unranked growth Gifted that¡¯s graduated from any Gifted schools.¡±


    ¡°This sounds like it¡¯s supposed to be a bigger secret than the Player thing,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°So what about the side effects of my skill?¡±


    ¡°Every skill has a side effect¡­ One moment.¡± Naymond opened the door and stuck his head out. ¡°Three more minutes, David, and you can have the kids.¡±


    Naymond closed the door back and returned his attention to them.


    ¡°Where was I? Oh, yes. The side effect of my skill is that I can feel every single molecule of blood being pumped out of my heart. It used to be less, then I hit 30% mastery and it¡¯s now a pain in the ass. My guess is that your skill gives you perfect awareness of your environment when you use it. It¡¯s only safe to assume you already have a certain level of awareness of your personal belongings. Things that are with you at all times.¡±


    Melmarc was confused. ¡°But I¡¯ve never noticed them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you haven¡¯t. It¡¯s like your nose.¡±


    ¡°What about my nose?¡±


    ¡°You see it all the time, but your eyes just always ignore it. I¡¯d estimate you¡¯re always aware of your really personal belongings you just always ignore it. For example, when you use your skill, do you¡­ You know what, experience is the better teacher.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to use your skill right now.¡± Naymond opened the door. ¡°Make sure you copy my skill when you do. You remember the name, right?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s called World of Insight. You ready?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Good.¡± Naymond stuck his head outside and bellowed: ¡°BRACE FOR IMPACT!¡±


    There was a cacophony of people bursting into immediate action. The noise was cantankerous and yet oddly organized.


    Naymond stuck his head back inside. ¡°You can go for it.¡±


    Melmarc looked at Pelumi and she shrugged.


    There was no point arguing the case. He really wanted to learn what Naymond wanted to teach him. So he activated [Knowledge Is Power].


    [You have activated skill Knowledge Is Power.]


    He counted the seconds as it left him. It returned to him on the third second. At least, it was roughly three seconds. He wasn¡¯t ready to bank on his mental clock accuracy.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 19.]


    [You have received 19 Potential buffs.]


    Naymond shivered visibly as he closed the door.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever get used to that feeling.¡±


    Beside Melmarc, Pelumi didn¡¯t look bothered in the slightest.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°I kind of like how it feels.¡±


    Naymonds eyes narrowed at her. ¡°I know we both feel it differently. But just out of curiosity, what does it feel like to you?¡±


    ¡°A warm hug.¡±


    ¡°Of course it does.¡± Naymond glared at Melmarc. ¡°Mine feels like someone may or may not be trying to shank me. It¡¯s like they are waiting to make a decision.¡±


    Melmarc wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Naymond¡¯s indicator was grey or if it was because he still hadn¡¯t decided on whether the Sage was trustworthy or not.


    ¡°Anyway, what did you find out, Mr. Lockwood?¡±


    Melmarc knew what he was asking and only needed a moment to get the answer.


    ¡°Some people are hiding under their tables.¡± He walked up to the window blinds and pulled one down to stare out of the office. ¡°Detective Bart has what I hope is evidence of a drug case in his drawer, and Detective Luke¡¯s gun is jammed so it won¡¯t fire on the next shot. Someone should probably tell him.¡±


    Naymond nodded. ¡°And I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware of a whole lot more.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He very well couldn¡¯t start mentioning all the things he knew. But the more he thought about what he knew, the more he realized he knew. For example, he knew all nineteen buffs he could select from. He also knew that there was still a piece of meat in Pelumi¡¯s mouth stuck between two teeth. It was so small that it could go unnoticed unless he pointed it out.


    And he knew for a fact that his phone was not his at all. It had felt different earlier, but now it was completely different.


    That means I can spot fakes as long as I¡¯ve been with the original, he thought.


    It was funny how that was where his mind was going.


    ¡°There we go,¡± Naymond said proudly. ¡°You figured it out. I bet that will do a lot of good for your mastery. Also, maybe we can figure out how to fix your form when you get back.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with my form?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to put this delicately.¡± Naymond opened the door and let David in. ¡°Think about it like this. There¡¯s a meal that only requires two ingredients and you¡¯ve cooked it. Now the meal is supposed to end up with one aroma, but it doesn¡¯t. What you get, instead, is the smell of the food and the smell of the ingredients existing side by side, which is off because they are supposed to smell as one.¡±


    ¡°So he smells like two instead of one?¡± David asked, sliding himself into the conversation.


    ¡°Not really. I think his form is just not complete. No. Complete is not the word I¡¯m looking for. It feels more like it needs a catalyst to become one.¡± he snapped a finger in epiphany. ¡°Ahah! It¡¯s a mixture when it should not be. It needs a catalyst to make it a compound. You can have the kids now Dave, bring them back before 8.¡±


    Melmarc and Pelumi followed David out of the room and Melmarc made his selection.


    [Would you like to use World of Insight? You will not be able to renege on this decision?]


    [Yes/No.]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    [You have selected World of Insight.]


    ¡­


    [World of Insight(Mastery 02.09%)].


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.

 FORTY-TWO: More Questions Than Answers

    They did not all come out of the precinct together. Instead, David followed the front door, rough-handled by one of the officers¡ªfor dramatic effect¡ªand was shoved out into the street.


    As for Melmarc and Pelumi, a random officer led them to an underground parking lot. The place was filled with cars occupying almost every parking space. Melmarc was sure he counted at least thirty cars.


    Looking at each car, only one thought came to mind. Being a Gifted detective must pay well.


    None of the car models were older than five years. Each one was sleek and looked like something the mysterious bad guys would ride in an action movie with tinted glasses and glossy exteriors.


    From the way Pelumi stared, looking from car to car, Melmarc was pleased to know that he wasn¡¯t the only one impressed and surprised.


    The underground parking lot led them into what looked like an actual tunnel pathway. The officer gave them a confused smile, clearly unsure of why he was guiding two kids to such an estranged place. In the end, he pointed them forward and let them know that a straight walk was the way out.


    With a quick thank you, Melmarc and Pelumi walked the distance. They didn¡¯t run, but they didn¡¯t stroll either. They found an easy pace between both speeds and kept to it, walking in silence until they saw the light at the end of the tunnel, which was funny since they barely walked five minutes.


    Melmarc found himself wondering if there was something else to this tunnel than just being a tunnel beneath the precinct.


    ¡°Nervous?¡± Pelumi asked.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Not really.¡±


    It was a good lie as far as lies went. In fact, he was wondering why he wasn¡¯t shaking in his boots.


    This is what you wanted, isn¡¯t it? he thought to himself. At some point you¡¯ll have to deal with the big and bad, you might as well start somewhere.


    Melmarc wanted to be able to go into portals and close them. He wanted to be able to protect cities in the event of Chaos runs. Did he really want to be busting bad guys who were selling drugs?


    That was more police and less Delver.


    ¡°On a scale of one to ten,¡± Pelumi said as they drew closer to the light, ¡°how bad is it?¡±


    ¡°Four.¡±


    Melmarc kept his eyes on the light remembering the name of the street they were supposed to meet David at.


    ¡°Want to bail?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s attention snapped to Pelumi. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a no.¡± She turned back to the light. ¡°You looked like you weren¡¯t sure. And it felt like you were only doing this because they pressured you into it. You know you can always say no, right?¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to say he did but ended up closing it back. He knew he could say no. He told people no all the time. But had he ever told people who mattered no before?


    ¡°I¡¯m just saying,¡± Pelumi continued. ¡°Because I¡¯ve noticed you don¡¯t really do much in the way of arguing.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure he could agree with that. ¡°I argue.¡±


    Pelumi put a thoughtful finger to her lips as the smooth tunnel ground came to a stair case. ¡°Maybe argue is not the word I¡¯m looking for. You ask questions, a lot of them. But when you do it¡¯s for the sake of asking questions.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to know everything you¡¯re getting into.¡±


    They took the stairs one at a time. Surprisingly, two ladies walked past them, going down the stairs and into where they were just coming from.


    Confused and not sure if the tunnel was supposed to be some kind of secret, Melmarc and Pelumi turned to stop them and froze.


    Both girls walked down and into a crowd, having a friendly conversation while everyone else made their way around the underground train station.


    Melmarc looked at Pelumi. ¡°Please tell me you¡¯re seeing it, too.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m seeing it.¡± Pelumi nodded slowly. ¡°Please tell me it was empty just a second ago.¡±


    ¡°It was empty just a second ago.¡±


    Melmarc had heard of advanced architectural work. Crafters who could create things like the glass machine that had taken his reading during his registration, things so out of the ordinary. Apart from the glass machine, the only surprising feat of crafting he¡¯d ever seen was the remaking of his home after the attack.


    But this? This was something else.


    ¡°What do you think will happen if we go back down?¡± Pelumi asked as people continued to walk back and forth.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure, but this wasn¡¯t the time to confirm it.


    ¡°We should hurry,¡± he told her. ¡°David might be waiting for us.¡±


    Pelumi gave the train station one final glancing before turning away from it.


    ¡­¡­


    They found David¡¯s car parked exactly where he¡¯d told them it would be. It was a banged up car that Melmarc had a suspicion would need to be literally pushed before it would start. While he stepped into the front passenger seat with a little trepidation, Pelumi slipped into the back, carefree.


    It was like she didn¡¯t even register the vehicle as hazardous.


    David slid the car key into the ignition and turned it. When the car came alive, it was loud and guttery. It was the sound Melmarc expected to hear if an engine had a cough. The car jerked twice as the engine tried to come alive and David kept pumping down on the clutch.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about this,¡± he told them, staring down at the meters on the dashboard. ¡°Sometimes she just needs a little kick.¡±


    From the rearview mirror Melmarc caught Pelumi staring out the car window with a nostalgic smile on her face.


    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure what to make of it.


    The front passenger seat of David¡¯s was one of the most uncomfortable sits Melmarc had ever had the displeasure of sitting in. But he kept his mouth shut and suffered the entire thirty minutes ride.


    David led them through the streets, taking turns and often ignoring red lights he completely did not have to. The car made all the noise a car was allowed to make and made all the noise a helicopter was allowed to make.


    And each time Melmarc checked on Pelumi through the rearview mirror the nostalgic smile remained on her face.


    Melmarc was surprised that no police officer had come to pull them over.


    ¡°So¡­¡± David turned the car onto a secluded street. ¡°What¡¯s it like working for the cops?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I guess.¡± Melmarc shrugged.


    ¡°Just okay?¡± David scoffed.  ¡°Don¡¯t they give you guys like a stipend or something? I¡¯m sure you get to use their sweet gym.¡±


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s alright.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t used their gym, and he had no idea if it was sweet or not. Also, he wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about the conversation. It felt as if David was trying to clear up the air, have a friendly conversation to prove that his first encounter with Melmarc was water under the bridge, but Melmarc didn¡¯t know how to have a conversation with someone he barely knew.


    ¡°You know,¡± David went on as the car slowed down. ¡°Your supervisor, Mr. Hitchcock, he says you¡¯re not a Basher. You sure hit like one. Never seen a young class hit like that when they aren¡¯t part of the Basher people. Is your class a strength type or something?¡±


    Melmarc thought about how many instances of [knowledge is Power] he had used during the chase. Four, maybe?


    And if each boost gave him a 0.5 increase to all attributes that gave him an increase by two, give or take.


    His mind went to how far David had gone from his tackle. Thinking about it made him wince, but he was more interested in how far he¡¯d gone.


    Were two points in strength really that powerful?


    David looked at him from the corner of his eye, trying to keep his attention on both im and the clear road in front of them. ¡°You still with me, kid?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± Melmarc shook his thought. ¡°Spaced out for a bit.¡±


    David chuckled. ¡°I know the feeling. First gig? Must be. Naymond practically threw you to the wolves on this one.¡±


    Pelumi perked up at that. ¡°Why would you say that?¡±


    She sounded angry.


    ¡°Calm down, missy,¡± David said casually, looking at her through the rearview mirror. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, he¡¯s willing to send you in to tangle with Romanian business without back up.¡±


    ¡°I thought you were back up,¡± Melmarc said.


    David snorted. ¡°Oh you poor kid. I¡¯m not back up. All I¡¯m doing is introducing you to the crew. They¡¯ll give you your task and you¡¯re on your own from there. See, missy, I¡¯m not saying anything he doesn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°So let me get this straight,¡± Pelumi said with a frown. ¡°You felt that while they told my friend how dangerous this was, it wasn¡¯t dangerous enough. So you had to put it in his head that he was being abandoned and put in more danger than he knows.¡±


    David¡¯s hands held the steering wheel tighter. ¡°It¡¯s the Romanians. I¡¯m just looking out for the kid. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°And you see nothing wrong in what you said?¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± David raised his hand in a surrendering gesture. ¡°I was just trying to help, there¡¯s no need for you to make me look like I¡¯m doing something wrong.¡± He looked at Melmarc as he placed his hands back on the steering wheel. ¡°I¡¯m sorry if you took that the wrong way. The Romanians are just real pieces of shit. They said they¡¯ve been kidnapping certain classes so I just wanted to be sure you were safe.¡±


    Melmarc looked out the window. He would be lying if he said he wasn¡¯t more worried than he¡¯d been a moment ago.


    For all he knew, Naymond could¡¯ve been downplaying the entire thing just so he could do it. He didn¡¯t think Naymond was a bad person, but he was of the opinion that Naymond was an unpredictable person. The Sage had been concocting this entire plan longer than before Melmarc had joined the force.


    Did he think Naymond would be willing to sacrifice him just to ensure the continuance of the plan?


    Yes.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    And with what David had just said, he feared it a lot.


    ¡°Time to duck down, kid,¡± David said as they slowly pulled up to the house on the picture they¡¯d showed them. ¡°Last thing you want is one of these guys getting a sight of you.¡±


    He put the gear in park. At least Melmarc thought it was park. He didn¡¯t know how stick-shifts worked, all he¡¯d seen was David move the gear box around a little before relaxing and turning to him.


    ¡°Here¡¯s our stop, kid. I¡¯ll take you in, make the introductions and I¡¯ll be out. So just remember, don¡¯t look inside the package.¡±


    Before they stepped out of the car, Melmarc said, ¡°Agility.¡±


    David paused. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°My class type. It¡¯s Agility¡±


    ¡°Why the hell would you tell him?¡± Pelumi asked, appalled. ¡°I swear to God, Marc, you¡¯re too trusting even with all your questions and observations.¡±


    Melmarc gave her a weak smile. ¡°It¡¯s just my class type. There¡¯s no harm there.¡±


    David¡¯s face softened. ¡°Thanks. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. People look at me and just assume that I¡¯m some kind of douchebag scheming something bad. I¡¯ve done some bad in the past but I work with the cops now. I¡¯m trying to make up for the wrongs I¡¯ve done. But people take one look at me after finding out what I do and my horrible history¡¯s all they see, not the good I¡¯m trying to do. It means a lot that you could trust me with that. I swear I¡¯ll put in a good word for you in there.¡±


    Pelumi¡¯s jaw was hanging open in confusion when they came out. Personally, Melmarc found the look funny.


    As they walked up to the house, taking the stairs up to the front porche, David turned and offered Melmarc his hand.


    ¡°David Swan. E-rank Crafter,¡± he said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t do much, but it has its uses.¡±


    Melmarc hesitated before shaking his hand. ¡°Marc. C-rank Weaver.¡±


    They shook once and David opened the door for him to enter.


    ¡­¡­..


    Inside was exactly how Melmarc expected it to be. Run down and questionable.


    As they walk into a small waiting area, someone bellowed from what was supposed to be the living room.


    ¡°Davi, that you?¡±


    ¡°Yea, Navari,¡± David hollered back, then gave Melmarc an assuring look. ¡°I brought my kid.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re late. Hurry up.¡±


    There was a slight shake in his voice, so slight Melmarc almost thought he¡¯d imagined it. But David gave no inclination of worry so he kept his own worries to himself.


    David led Melmarc into the living room, which was an equal mess with broken picture frames on the ground, dust and other detritus. The house smelled old and musky.


    Inside the living room there were eight boys standing casually in the middle of the room in different outfits. On one side of the room were three men, probably David¡¯s age, likely a few years older.


    Then at the head of the room was a couch with a man probably in his thirties sitting casually. He was so large he occupied more than half of the three seater.


    David strolled into the room in leaning forward, like he was trying to look below something that came down to his chest but wasn¡¯t sure if he should.


    ¡°What¡¯s good, Boss. Sorry I¡¯m late. Took me a while to get the¡ª¡±


    David froze, leaving his sentence incomplete and stopping in his tracks. Melmarc had to side-step him to prevent himself from running into him.


    When Melmarc came to a stop beside him, he saw what made David pause. He wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d missed it, but behind the man on the couch, one man stood quietly.


    The house was dark with no lights on so it wasn¡¯t a difficult miss, but Melmarc felt he should¡¯ve noticed the moment he¡¯d walked it with [World of Insight] active. He pulled up his interface, checking it quickly and saw why.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C World of Insight (Mastery -21.22%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Status: August Guest +0.5 to all stats, Intruder -0.5 to all stats.


    [World of Insight] had dipped significantly into the negative. It left the effects of the skill basically nonexistent.


    ¡°Uhm, boss,¡± David started slowly. ¡°I see we have a guest. Everything good?¡±


    Navari dismissed him with a gesture of his hand. ¡°Take your place, Davi. And your kid should stand with the other kids. Mamba, get the kid his pack.¡±


    Melmarc moved to stand in the middle of the room, hoping his legs weren¡¯t visibly shaking. He was now realizing that David had no power of any kind here.


    So much for putting in a good word for me, he thought as one of the men with a snake tattoo on his face handed him a package.


    He noticed then that the other boys had packages of their own.


    Navari snapped a finger to get their attention once more. ¡°In case your patrons haven¡¯t told you,¡± he said. ¡®The packages in your hand are to be delivered to a location of our choosing. Upon successful delivery, you will each receive a hundred dollars for your troubles.¡±


    One of the boys fidgeted, raising a hand.


    ¡°No, it is not harmful,¡± Navari said. ¡°And no, it is not illegal. However, you are not allowed to open it. If you check inside, we will know and your hundred dollars is forfeit. Is that clear?¡±


    The boys nodded in understanding. Melmarc did the same.


    ¡°I would just like to add one thing,¡± the man behind Navari said. His voice was slow, as if he was tired, and he didn¡¯t step out of the darkness so his face remained concealed.


    But there was something about his accent. Melmarc tried to figure it out. He¡¯d heard someone who spoke like it, as if their brogue was being swallowed up by a proper English accent. But it was still there, under it all. It tickled Melmarc¡¯s mind in a way he didn¡¯t like.


    ¡°I wish to make this¡­ delivery¡­ more interesting,¡± the man said. ¡°So we will do this. If you successfully bring in your box, Navari here,¡± he placed a hand on Navari¡¯s shoulder and Melmarc could¡¯ve sworn the big guy flinched, ¡°will give you a hundred dollars. However, for every other box you submit, you get an extra two hundred dollars.¡±


    Everyone remained quiet. Silence met the man¡¯s new rule.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The man made a vague gesture, twirling his hand. ¡°How do you say it properly? One box, you get a hundred dollars. Two boxes, you get three hundred dollars. Three boxes, you get four hundred dollars.¡±


    With one hand still on Navari¡¯s shoulder, he counted the boys with the other.


    ¡°So¡­ one, two, three¡­¡± his words trailed away but his hand continued to pick them out. ¡°Nine of you. Which means, if you bring nine boxes, you get¡­¡± he frowned. ¡°Who knows what nine times¡­ if you bring nine boxes, how much will you get? Someone do the counting.¡±


    Seventeen hundred dollars, Melmarc thought. But he wasn¡¯t going to be the one to offer the answer.


    ¡°Eight times two¡¯s sixteen,¡± one the boys said confidently. He was wearing a varsity jacket. Black and white. ¡°So that makes seventeen hundred. You got seventeen hundred to give? That¡¯s a lot of money for a delivery.¡±


    The man chuckled and one of the older men standing with David ran a hand down his face in dismay.


    ¡°The hundred dollars is what they pay you for the delivery.¡± The man gestured at Navari then the older men. ¡°I offer another hundred dollars on top, not for the delivery, but for the drive. To see who can step out of the norm and make their own rules.¡±


    He released Navari¡¯s shoulder and stepped into view, close enough now that they could see his face. He had a hard face, not the kind gotten from age but the kind gotten from seeing too much. It reminded Melmarc of some before and after pictures he¡¯d seen on the internet. On one side was a man before going to war, on the other was the same man maybe a year after the war.


    Both men were never the same.


    Seeing the man¡¯s face, the accent also cliqued. He was Romanian.


    ¡°But I must warn you,¡± the man continued. ¡°While I want to see who will make their own rules, I will beg you not to break mine.¡±


    He chuckled darkly and walked up to the boy who had answered. ¡°After all, I¡¯m not as nice as your friends over here.¡±


    Melmarc kept his face straight, hoping not to catch the man¡¯s attention. There was just something about him that seemed wrong. He couldn¡¯t say what it was, and he wasn¡¯t talking about the bloodshot eyes and slow speech.


    The man simply felt wrong.


    The man turned dramatically, arms held out on both sides. ¡°Let the games begin.¡±


    He made his way back to Navari¡¯s back with a sluggish gate and went back to standing. If he was suspicious before, now he was ominous.


    Navari looked like he was doing his best not to look intimidated as he sat forward and gestured to one of the older men.


    ¡°Mamba,¡± he said in a hard voice. ¡°Get me the map.¡±


    ¡°Th¡­ the map?¡± the man with the snake tattoo, Mamba, stuttered.


    Navari sighed. ¡°Not the time to be confused, Mamba. It¡¯s the one in the other room.¡±


    Mamba looked around confused for a moment before realization appeared on his expression. He didn¡¯t say anything, just darted out of the living room. The sound of clattering and searching followed for a while. Then he rushed back in, handing Navari a folded up piece of paper.


    All the while, Melmarc just stood there, wondering what the hell Naymond had talked him into. I thought they were supposed to be an excuse for gangsters.


    If this was what the test run looked like, he couldn¡¯t imagine what the final run would be like. And they expected him to do this a few times before the last one?


    He didn¡¯t think he could. No, that was the wrong thought. It wasn¡¯t a matter of thinking. That guy just tried to motivate us to fight each other.


    Some of the boys were already eyeing each other like they were somehow competition. Which, with the updated rules, they were.


    Melmarc could already feel the growing hostility in the air. All that quick sense of violence over a hundred dollar extra?


    Not a hundred extra, he corrected himself.


    It was for the potential of a thousand and seven hundred dollars. All the boys here were high schoolers, and they were a lot of things a high schooler could do with that amount of money.


    Navari unfolded the piece of paper and held it up in front of him for them to see. ¡°Can you see the map?¡±


    All the boys nodded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have x-ray vision, kids,¡± Navari said from behind the map. ¡°Do be kind enough to use your words. Can everyone see the map?¡±


    A muttering of responses went through them.


    ¡°And you see the red dot?¡±


    Melmarc saw the red dot. It was small and at the edge of the map.


    ¡°Now because I¡¯m nice,¡± Navari said, ¡°I¡¯m going to hold this map up for three minutes. Your job is to use those three minutes to memorize how to get there from here.¡±


    ¡°Ehmm,¡± one of the boys interrupted. ¡°Where exactly are we on the map.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s also for you to figure¡ª¡±


    The Romanian rushed over to the map, vaunting over the backrest of the couch to sit beside Navari. Once again, Navari froze as the man adjusted on the chair so that he was looking at the map.


    ¡°No need to make this any more difficult than it is, Navi,¡± he chuckled, then tapped a spot on the map. ¡°You kids are here.¡±


    The distance looked far.


    ¡°And,¡± the Romanian continued. ¡°All you have to do is get there in under an hour. Since it''s already getting late. Also, don¡¯t forget now, more boxes means more money.¡±


    Standing where he was, Melmarc had been considering a lot of things. One of them was the certainty of him not coming for this run anymore. This would be a one-time thing and he¡¯ll be done.


    He wanted to be a powerful Delver, but this level of risk this soon seemed¡­ unnecessary. He hadn¡¯t even been a Gifted for up to six months and he was already in this kind of bind.


    He watched one of the larger boys in the group eyeball him. Great, and I have to run from bullies while playing courier.


    Regardless, since this was going to be a one-time thing, he felt extra information was necessary. Maybe if he could get Alfa and Naymond some useful information, they wouldn¡¯t be so annoyed by the fact that he wasn¡¯t willing to go through with the plan anymore.


    The Romanian looked important. At least more important than Navari. Which, in this instant, made him the boss of David¡¯s Boss.


    If he could get information on the man, it might just be very useful.


    ¡°Alright, kids!¡± the Romanian announced abruptly. ¡°That¡¯s enough map studying. Everybody out! And I¡¯ll see you on the other side.¡±


    Everyone stood quietly as the man strolled off into another room. When he was gone, it was like the room breathed a sigh of relief. Then Navari shooed them out of the room.


    ¡°Go on, then, scat!¡±


    The largest boy in the group turned almost immediately with a fist cocked back. He was right next to Melmarc, and Melmarc had no illusions of who his target was.


    Even as the boy¡¯s hand was pulling back, Melmarc was already backing away.


    ¡°You lay one hand on anyone in this room and I¡¯ll take your limbs!¡± Navari growled, halting everything.


    The older men shook their heads. When Melmarc glanced at David, the man wasn¡¯t making eye contact.


    Asshole¡¯s sold me out.


    Now Melmarc didn¡¯t feel bad about running him over or lying to him.


    ¡°You take that violence shit out there,¡± Navari continued.


    He got up from his chair and walked over to the boy. Melmarc had to tilt his head back to look at the man. He was easily near seven feet. With his weight, he was practically a giant.


    Towering over the kid that had wanted to punch Melmarc, he said, ¡°You¡¯ve got spunk kid. But keep that spunk out there. Don¡¯t show it in here or I¡¯ll break your legs and send you home to your mother on a unicycle. And the devil bless your soul if you don¡¯t ride it yourself.¡± He looked around the room, meeting each boy¡¯s gaze. ¡°Got it?!¡±


    There were murmured choruses of affirmation.


    ¡°Good.¡± Navari turned and returned to his couch. He ran a tired hand over his face. ¡°Bastard¡¯s come in here and is trying to ruin everything I built. You guys just get out before I realize I want that seventeen hundred for myself.¡±


    Melmarc dragged his feet as he left, waiting for the larger boy to leave first. In the end, he was the last to the door, his package in his hand. He tried one last look behind him and found no one watching their exit.


    It¡¯s now or never, he thought, slowly backing up into the building. He hoped the Romannian hadn¡¯t left the building yet.


    Then he activated his skill, ready to bolt out of the door.


    [You have activated skill Knowledge Is Power.]


    Melmarc waited for the skill¡¯s return. When he noticed it, he rushed for the door. He was barely three steps out of the door when the skill returned to him.


    The information he received stopped him in his tracks.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 17.0329.]


    [You have received 22 Potential buffs.]


    As confusing as everything his interface was telling him was, he had bigger worries and confusion on his mind.


    Three things stood out the most to him.


    The first was that while he¡¯d caught the Romanian in his skill, he was worried by the fact that he now knew he¡¯d been in a room with the man, while the man had been carrying a switchblade and a gun.


    As terrifying as that was, it paled in the face of the fear and confusion of his second and third discovery.


    There was a dead body in the basement of the building and there was a man lounging on the roof sipping a can soda.


    ¡°Did someone take my drugs?¡± the Romanian bellowed from somewhere inside the house. ¡°Who the fuck took my drugs.¡±


    Melmarc fled from the house as fast as his feet could carry him, staring at one of the buffs [Bless Your Kindness] had brought him.


    [World of Insight(Mastery 02.09%)].


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:00.]


    As glad as he was to find out he hadn¡¯t been abandoned to this madness, other worries started growing on him.


    He had more questions than answers.


    For starters, why did the number of sentient life detected have decimals? Why was there an S-rank crafter in the building? What was Naymond doing on the roof having a drink?


    And last but not the least¡­


    Why the hell was he delivering a package of half a human brain?


    What the hell have I gotten myself into?

 FORTY-THREE: Malice And Terrible Determinations

    The evening air wasn¡¯t so bad as Melmarc walked with package in hand. He¡¯d selected [World of Insight] once more, strolling through the streets. Eight minutes were yet to be up so the effects of [Knowledge is Power] were still working.


    However, he was already reaching the edge of how far the skill had reached. Melmarc was walking into uncharted territory.


    He knew it the moment he stepped out of the radius the skill had mapped. It was like coming out from a thoughtful process and finding everything around him to be new. The air was different. The color wasn¡¯t so colorful. It reminded him of closing his eyes for a while just to open it again and find that the natural light around him was a little bluer.


    His phone rang in his pocket and he looked around before answering it. It is ¡®Mr. Lockwood¡¯.


    ¡°Hello, dad.¡±


    ¡°You know you don¡¯t really have to call me dad, right?¡± Naymond¡¯s voice came through. ¡°Though I appreciate the sentiment. Never had kids of my own, you see.¡±


    Melmarc almost smiled at Naymond¡¯s continued lack of care. Somehow it was reassuring in his current situation.


    ¡°How are you here?¡± he asked, pausing to look from side to side before crossing the road.


    ¡°I walked,¡± Naymond answered easily. ¡°Also, we are not going to address the fact that you just looked left and right to cross a one lane road that was absolutely empty.¡±


    Melmarc hopped on to the sidewalk. ¡°You can never be too careful.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±


    Just out of curiosity, Melmarc looked around, focusing on the rooftops. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he started looking at the buildings around him. He was reminded of how this neighborhood was nothing like the one he was accustomed to.


    For one, it just felt very dreary. It looked like the kind of neighborhood you¡¯d expect to see a hobo lying on the ground in every few blocks.


    ¡°You won¡¯t find me,¡± Naymond said.


    Melmarc did a 360 turn as he walked. ¡°So you¡¯re good at hiding.¡±


    ¡°Not hiding. I¡¯m just walking in a different part of the street. I¡¯m walking on the other side of the house beside you.¡±


    Melmarc looked at the house as if he would somehow see behind it. He wondered how large the house was. If he used [Knowledge is Power] would it tag Naymond in its reach?


    ¡°So you¡¯re on a completely different street.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But you can still see what I¡¯m doing.¡±


    ¡°See is not the word you¡¯re looking for,¡± Naymond corrected. ¡°I¡¯m just very aware of everything happening around me.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    There was a pause. ¡°You¡¯ve used my skill before. What do you mean how? Are you saying you didn¡¯t pay attention to my skill when you caught David or when you took it at the office?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that. The truth is that he hadn¡¯t. He only took the skill today because Naymond asked him to. And the last time, when he¡¯d chased after David, he hadn¡¯t really seen the effect of the skill. [Knowledge is Power] had given him everything he¡¯d needed to know about his current existent surrounding.


    ¡°Is this going to have to be another teaching moment, Mr. Lockwood?¡± Naymond asked with a sigh. ¡°And here I thought you were pretending.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just that the skill does exactly what mine does.¡± Melmarc took a turn at an alley. It would be a short cut to bring him to a new street rather than going around the block. ¡°So I didn¡¯t pay much attention.¡±


    ¡°[World of Insight] is a passive skill Melmarc.¡± Naymond took a sip of something. The sound came across as slurping. ¡°You won¡¯t feel the effects unless you¡¯re paying attention to it. But I can understand how you could¡¯ve missed it. Your skill already gives you awareness of your surrounding so the fact that your awareness continues on a small scale could be lost on you. I¡¯m sure the mastery¡¯s still 2%.¡±


    Melmarc was a little surprised that Naymond remembered.


    ¡°It is.¡±


    ¡°That means the reach must be very small, probably the size of a room,¡± Naymond said. ¡°And here I thought you were strolling casually because you were trying to deceive them.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Deceive who?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t stop walking now,¡± Naymond chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ve got two kids heading your way. East and North-East.¡±


    Melmarc turned, his mind taking a moment to figure out which way east was.


    ¡°Am I working with true north?¡± he asked, turning again.


    Naymond snorted. ¡°Pay attention to the skill you took from me and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how effective the skill currently was. Eight minutes had already gone by which meant its mastery reduction would¡¯ve already begun. So he activated [Knowledge is Power] again.


    The blast left him just as someone stepped out of a corner and punched him in the face. The force of the blow staggered him but did not disorient him.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect].


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Pain flickered in Melmarc¡¯s jaw and was gone as quickly as it came.


    The moment [Knowledge is Power] returned to him, Melmarc knew what was happening. He was being ambushed, and by three kids.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to fight them off,¡± Naymond said over the phone. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt them too much. Or you could run. running''s often a good option.¡±


    Then the line cut.


    Melmarc was more surprised by the fact that he was still holding on to the phone and package despite being punched. Also, it felt as if the fact that he was punched was just his imagination, like the pain was false.


    The large boy that had tried to punch him just before they¡¯d been sent out of the room, shook his hand out as if in pain.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got jaws of steel,¡± he said. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Melmarc looked over the boy¡¯s head and saw what he expected to see.


    [Jake Nanhall].


    His indicator was red.


    Melmarc ran through all the information he knew about Gifted on non-Gifted violence. How exactly were self-defense charges handled in such situations.


    Based on the level of injury inflicted, he remembered as he backed away from the boy, fully aware of the other two closing in behind him.


    He was wondering how he would keep his eye on the other two when something odd happened. He was perfectly aware of them.


    [Knowledge is Power] gave him perfect information about his surrounding but real life was always updating. The fact that a person was standing somewhere didn¡¯t mean they would be standing in the same place two seconds later.


    The indicators helped him account for that level of information change, but that was only if Melmarc was looking at the indicator. Right now, Jake¡¯s indicator was the only one in sight. Which meant, he wasn¡¯t supposed to know that Darwin and Darnell were actually spreading out beside him and not walking together.


    Is this how [World of Insight] works?


    ¡°Just hand over the package and you only get two more punches,¡± Jake told him, winding up his fist like some cartoon character. ¡°Darnell and Darwin might want to have a go too, but I promise it won¡¯t be too bad.¡±


    ¡°Did you look in the box?¡± Melmarc asked.


    It was a simple question but it stopped the three boys in their tracks.


    I know what all three of them are doing.


    It was a weird feeling that he knew Darwin was currently slipping his free hand into his pocket to bring out a¡­ nail cutter?


    What was the boy going to do with a nail cutter?


    ¡°They said not to look in the package.¡± Jake¡¯s eyes went to Melmarc¡¯s package and he frowned. ¡°Your package is still sealed. You haven¡¯t looked into it.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. With his retreat cut off, he had nowhere to go. So he just stood. ¡°I just sealed it back up. It really wasn¡¯t too difficult.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± Jake hissed. ¡°No way you got balls like that.¡±


    Darnell fidgeted slightly stepping back. From his last name, it was safe to assume he and Darwin were brothers. They had the same last name.


    Jake¡¯s attention shot to the both of them behind Melmarc. ¡°Don¡¯t be wimps. If we get his package, that¡¯s another hundred split between the three of us.¡±


    That¡¯s what this is about? Melmarc thought.


    Well, what else would it be about? If they were jumping a random kid, there had to be a reason. And a hundred bucks seemed like a good enough reason.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking,¡± Melmarc interrupted. ¡°But how exactly are you going to share a hundred dollars three ways, evenly?¡±


    Jake darted at him abruptly and knowledge filled his mind in immediate bits and pieces. The boy tucked his body in, throwing a poor display of a boxer¡¯s jab, feinting with his right arm so that Melmarc would fall for his left jab.


    Melmarc bobbed his head to the side, avoiding the blow easily.


    That was¡­


    Melmarc called up his interface to check something quickly. He did it without gesture. The last thing he wanted was for anyone watching them to know he was a Gifted.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C World of Insight (Mastery 1.22%)]


    [Rank: B]


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    Status: August Guest +0.5 to all stats, Intruder -0.5 to all stats.


    This was what he could do with [World of Insight] at 1%?


    Then what will I be able to do at 2%?


    There was no point asking questions.


    [You have selected World of Insight.]


    ¡­


    [World of Insight(Mastery 02.09%)].


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.


    Jake attacked again. Two quick jabs.


    Suddenly, Melmarc knew where to dodge, how to do, and when to dodge. The best part was that he was so aware of his surroundings that he didn¡¯t weave or duck to the side. Instead, he doubled back with two steps, bringing them closer to Darwin and Darnell.


    ¡°Why the hell are you guys just standing around!¡± Jake barked. ¡°Get him!¡±


    Melmarc knew the moment Darwin leaped forward and was already spinning away from the boy¡¯s reach. The extended nail cutter slipped through the air. The point of the extended file pierced nothing and Melmarc found himself standing right beside Darnel.


    There was a twitch to Darnell¡¯s left foot.


    Left kick, Melmarc¡¯s mind told him, and he raised his leg to avoid the sweep that came.


    The force of the kick swung Darnell around and the boy had to hop a little to get his bearings back.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help the smile that touched his lips. Was this how Naymond saw the world? Aware of everything the moment it was about to happen. It was like using [Knowledge is Power] but in real time.


    Even with his mind occupied with thoughts, Melmarc evaded to the side, avoiding Jake¡¯s tackle. He hadn¡¯t even been looking.


    This is so cool!


    Melmarc stepped away so that he had all of them in his periphery. His back was empty now, and he could run whenever he wanted. Actually, even when they¡¯d surrounded him earlier, with his boost to all his stats from [Knowledge is Power] he could¡¯ve run at anytime.


    So why didn¡¯t you?


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what the answer had been then, but he knew what it was now. Naymond said mastery was about learning as much of how a skill functioned as you could. At 2% mastery, he was already capable of this. Just what could Naymond do with a mastery of 32%?


    It was hard to imagine the Sage wasn¡¯t near unstoppable.


    Melmarc slipped his phone into his pocket and laughed at the realization that he hadn¡¯t even dropped his phone or his package.


    ¡°The hell are you laughing at?¡± Jake snarled.


    Melmarc looked at his now free hand. This was incredible. And he had it for another few minutes. How exactly did the skill work? If he closed his eyes would he still be aware? Was it sensory focused or did it work with mana somehow?


    Don¡¯t you think you¡¯re being a bit arrogant? He thought, closing his eyes.


    He heard a shuffle to the side, it wasn¡¯t very close, but it was close enough. The air grew disturbed. Something barreled through it. With the way it parted, Melmarc felt the trajectory. He leaned to the side, stepping forward and threw a jab.


    He felt his blow connect before backing away. His eyes shot open in sudden exhilaration and he staggered back and away from them.


    ¡°That was a rush!¡± He gave a full body shiver before he could stop himself.


    Meanwhile, in front of him, Jake was holding his shoulder. That was odd. Melmarc had been going for his face.


    It seemed the skill wasn¡¯t perfect.


    Darnell rushed to Jake¡¯s side and tugged the boy by the sleeve. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go. We can¡¯t take his package and we¡¯re running out of time.¡±


    Jake glared at Melmarc, still holding on to his shoulder. It looked like it was hurting far more than a jab to the shoulder was supposed to.


    The stat boost from [Knowledge is Power], Melmarc realized.


    That was close. If that had carried so much impact to leave Jake holding his shoulder like that, he could only imagine what it would¡¯ve done if it had struck his nose.


    The thought sobered Melmarc immediately. What would he have done if he¡¯d struck the boy in the face and caused too much damage?


    Jake and the others were already hobbling away, picking up their pace. In a matter of moments, they were jogging away, Jake sparing moments to look back so that he could shoot Melmarc a glare.


    When they were far away, Melmarc¡¯s phone rang again.


    He pulled it out from his pocket, unsurprised to see that it was Naymond.


    ¡°Is this how you experience everything?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just get one thing clear, Mr. Lockwood,¡± Naymond said, voice empty. ¡°I did not ask you to use my skill so you can oppress the weak.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Those were kids, Mr. Lockwood. Weak and defenseless kids.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re basically my age,¡± Melmarc argued. ¡°And one of them was almost twice my size.¡±


    ¡°Yet, they remain children, even in your eyes.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. Yes, he had taken it a bit too far, but what had Naymond expected him to do?


    ¡°What was I supposed to do? Just roll over and take a beating?¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve run.¡± Naymond sighed. ¡°You had more than three chances to run. And with what I¡¯ve seen you do. You could¡¯ve done so quite easily. I know it means nothing at all, but I¡¯m quite disappointed in you. I assumed if there was anyone who wouldn¡¯t be pulled by the allure of power, it would be you.¡±


    The line cut and Melmarc was left staring at his phone.


    He wanted to be mad at Naymond, angry at the man for holding him to the standard of being the better person when he¡¯d been jumped by three boys.


    But you didn¡¯t run, even when you had the chance.


    The thought wiped away all his justification. Naymond was right. Regardless of any arguments he had to make, he was in the wrong. Being jumped was not his fault, but remaining in the fight was.


    The boys were his age, and to him they were not children. But they were weaker, and he was old enough to know better. No matter how equal everyone was in one way or the other, power made a difference. And he had been the powerful one.


    Even the laws handle the Gifted differently.


    With his mood scaled down, Melmarc pulled up the gps on his phone and zoomed out until it resembled the map Navari had shown them. He knew where he was supposed to be.


    He tapped the destination on the map and the roads lit up with routes and alternate routes. Melmarc gave it one glance and started jogging.


    ¡­¡­¡­..


    As he ran, taking turns and corners, alleys and sidewalks, Melmarc kept spamming [Knowledge is Power] anytime he could. It kept him aware of the general layout around him and kept him from running into other boys.


    Each step carried him far. Night drew nearer as he ran, fatigue not coming as quickly as he expected it to. But it did.


    He activated [Knowledge is Power] once more and chose [World of Insight]. Naymond¡¯s skill had taught him a few things. And while none of them allowed him feel the blood pumping in his veins or count the nanoseconds between each heart beat, it taught him general awareness of his immediate surroundings.


    It only saddened him that he wasn¡¯t excited enough to enjoy it.


    He was going down an area where there were people awake and active in the buildings around him so he dropped his over-active jog to something slower and simpler to avoid drawing attention when his senses heightened.


    Melmarc pulled himself to a quick halt and ducked to the side. He tucked himself into an uncomfortable roll before coming back up to his feet.


    What the hell?!


    Someone had darted out of the corner to snatch his package from his hand while someone else had taken a swing at him with a wooden plank.


    The latter was significantly alarming because it proved whoever it was had no worries about accidentally killing him. The former, however, was somehow of greater worry.


    Something about the way the person had tried to snatch the package from him while he was in motion was saying a lot of things. He¡¯d slowed down but he was still fast, yet [World of Insight] had basically warned him because of the accuracy.


    ¡°You could¡¯ve killed me!¡± Melmarc snapped at the boy with the piece of wood.


    The boy snorted. ¡°It¡¯s just a piece of wood. You¡¯d have gotten a concussion at best.¡±


    Melmarc stared at the boy in disbelief. Weren¡¯t they all supposed to be normal kids? What kinds of normal kids swung at each other without hesitation?


    ¡°See the look on his face,¡± the boy with the plank laughed. ¡°He¡¯s acting like he¡¯s never been swung at before.¡±


    ¡°Not everyone¡¯s been swung at before, Tod,¡± the second boy said calmly.


    Then he turned to Melmarc.


    ¡°Drop the package as get the hell out of here. I can¡¯t promise Tod won¡¯t take another swing.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe the kind of conversation he was finding himself in. What were they; gangsters?


    ¡°For an extra hundred bucks?¡± he asked. ¡°Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s crazy? You almost killed me for an extra hundred.¡±


    Tod looked at him in disbelief. ¡°Can you imagine this kid, Trev. He thinks it¡¯s about the money.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I keep saying Navari wasn¡¯t the one that took out our crew,¡± the second boy, Trev, said. ¡°He couldn¡¯t even recognize us or consider the fact that we¡¯d be in on this. There had to be someone else.¡±


    Trev¡¯s words brought Melmarc¡¯s attention to something else. The plank Tod was holding. He¡¯d been too busy trying not to get hit in the head that he had missed it. But he saw it now, right at the edge of the plank, the part that should¡¯ve connected with his head were bent nails, and something else.


    Blood.


    Everything changed now. These were not normal high schoolers with some misguided sense of violence. Everything they were doing was intentional.


    Melmarc wanted answers, but not because they were going to be useful somehow. He needed them for something else.


    ¡°How many?¡± he asked, placing his package on the ground beside him.


    ¡°Dumb kid say what?¡± Tod laughed.


    Melmarc ignored the childish taunt. ¡°How many have you hit in the head so far?¡±


    ¡°Four.¡± Trev folded his arms. ¡°Why? Want to do something about it?¡±


    Melmarc had a lot he wanted to do about it. There was a part of him that hoped Naymond was listening to this conversation and was going to do something about the possibility that there were four kids lying down on the ground somewhere bleeding from lacerations to their head. But there was also a part of him that believed Naymond wouldn¡¯t care.


    So the first thing Melmarc wanted to do about it was call Alfa and let her know just how deadly this test run had just gotten. He also wanted to let them know that there was a very high chance that this wasn¡¯t a test run.


    The weight of the entire thing was feeling too important. He also couldn¡¯t imagine why they would be doing test runs with half-brains. If they were, then what was the final run supposed to be about? What would they be delivering?


    Melmarc stood to his full height, remembering his conversation with Naymond about being more responsible now that he was a Gifted. He was more powerful than his opponent. Which meant he couldn¡¯t engage them in the kind of fight they wanted him to engage them in.


    Pick a moment and run.


    There was ample space around him. If he just turned and ran, he would be gone before any of them could do anything about it. And if the effects of [Knowledge is Power] had already worn out he would just use it again.


    He could feel the effects of running out of mana. Uncle Dorthna had made him use his skills until he¡¯d nearly doubled over from mana fatigue, so he knew what it felt like.


    At best, he had two¡ªmaybe three¡ªmore activations left in him.


    Pick your moment and run, he told himself again.


    Or pick your moment and fight.


    Naymond wasn¡¯t going to like what was about to happen next. But Melmarc couldn¡¯t bring himself to care right now. He would just take his scolding when it was all done.


    The kids on this task were just children here to get an extra hundred bucks or two. Like Jake, some of them were probably mean and could be bullies. But there were levels to punishments. And maybe they deserved whatever Tod and Trev were willing to do to them, but there had to be others in this race who didn¡¯t.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t willing to allow them suffer such a fate. His dream was to protect the world from monsters in portals and results of Chaos Runs. He wanted to be the Delver that stood between the good and the evil¡ªthose who could not defend themselves and the monsters.


    But sometimes, monsters didn¡¯t only come from beyond the portals. Sometimes they were dangers that walked around with malice and terrible determinations.


    Sometimes they swung planks.


    Melmarc checked the time on his phone. There wasn¡¯t much time left to get to his destination. But there was enough time for this.


    Tod looked at Trev. ¡°Dude ain¡¯t running.¡±


    Trev shrugged. ¡°I told you to expect at least one or two of them not to run.¡±


    ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­


    Naymond shook his can of grape soda and found it empty so he tossed it aside. Littering was a minor offense, and since there was no officer around, he certainly couldn¡¯t be expected to uphold the law to the fullest extent of its requirement.


    Besides, more important things were happening on the other side of the building he was standing at. Actually, it was two buildings away. But there really wasn¡¯t any difference. He¡¯d been alternating his distance every few minutes.


    Specifically, he spent two minutes away from Melmarc, which was the duration of his skill. That way, his skill was always available to the boy. And each time, he watched the skill¡¯s form as Melmarc moved, learning more about his own skill¡¯s form by having someone else use it.


    If Melmarc pushed the skill hard enough, Naymond just might be able to get to that forty percent threshold faster than he thought.


    Melmarc, unsurprisingly, was about to face his second dilemma. What did a boy like Melmarc do when he was faced with thugs?


    There was also the part about possible casualties, but none of them were really his business. A bunch of kids got themselves involved with some shady people and got bonked over the head with a deadly weapon. So what? They¡¯ll learn from it. Get better at making stupid decisions.


    And you just scolded the kid for not doing the right thing.


    He sighed at his own self-judgement. Being two-faced was really not a good quality for a person¡¯s conscience. It bred cognitive dissonance on a spiritual level.


    Naymond knew where five of the four boys Trev had lied about were. Truthfully, some random passerby had already found one and called for an ambulance. The remaining four weren¡¯t necessarily in critical condition from what he could tell, but it was only a matter of time before they were.


    Naymond let out a deep breath and pulled out his phone. Then he dialed Alfa¡¯s number and waited while it rang.


    He was still waiting when he sensed Melmarc check the time on his phone. Naymond almost laughed.


    That damned kid. His lips curled in an impish smile.


    Naymond forgot about his phone placed against his ear and crossed the road. The least he could do for putting the boy in such a confusing predicament was make sure that he didn¡¯t die. He would be there to ensure Melmarc did not make a mistake he wouldn¡¯t be able to come away from.


    Confidence even in the face of insurmountable odds was a quality of a good Delver. Unfortunately, as a Delver there was an almost nonexistent line between a good Delver and a foolish Delver.


    How they reacted when facing insurmountable odds was a strong part of that line.


    Naymond strolled across the busy road without looking. There were a few car honks and a few swears thrown at him, but none of them was important.


    He would allow the child take a little beating for character building, clean a touch of that naivety out of him, then he would step in. There was also the possibility that he might get angry and use a skill, in which case Naymond would also step in.


    All in all, character building was ensured. Maybe he could turn that innocent child with no poker face into someone more prepared for the darkness of the world of the Gifted.


    As he got to the next building, he sensed one of the boys hold his plank firm, ready to take a swing. Naymond picked up the pace.


    Got to hurry, got to hurry.


    He was just a building away when the boy swung. Melmarc stepped into the swing and Naymond¡¯s jaw dropped.


    Fuck me.

 FORTY-FOUR: Better To Play With A Portal

    Melmarc ducked as Tod swung. The action was simple. With nothing occupying his hands, it was a clean duck and the plank whizzed past his head.


    He stepped in easily, weighed how much force he was putting into it and punched Tod in the stomach. He felt the weight of the boy, the packed muscles in his stomach. They weren¡¯t like concrete but they were strong. Melmarc knew even as he ducked away that there hadn¡¯t been enough force in the blow.


    Tod frowned at him Melmarc then beat his stomach hard with a fist.


    ¡°If you¡¯re going to hit me, hit me like your life depends on it!¡±


    Personally, Melmarc had been hoping for a one shot knock out. Sadly, he hadn¡¯t put enough force into the punch. But he was aware of something now and he was going to use his new found knowledge.


    Trev folded his arms confidently. ¡°His life kind of does depend on it, though.¡±


    Melmarc ignored the boy. Right now he had to focus on the opponent that could kill a person in one swing.


    Tod rushed Melmarc, plank swinging.


    The boy¡¯s movements were too chaotic, and dodging with a duck was out of the question. Melmarc¡¯s eyes followed the trajectory of the plank as it barreled through the air with each swing.


    He backed away from the first swing, ducked the second and practically dived away from the third when it seemed to come at him from out of nowhere.


    Trev laughed. ¡°You sure you want to get too far away from your package? I could just walk up to it and pick it up.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t allow the goading affect him. He knew exactly where his half-a-brain was and knew for a fact that he could always get to it before any of the two boys.


    ¡°Come on, kid!¡± Tod goaded, slamming his plank into the ground so that it let out a loud noise. ¡°You¡¯ve got to work for that hundred bucks.¡±


    Melmarc still couldn¡¯t understand where they¡¯d gotten all the information they used to ambush the kids. Or how they knew how much exactly they were supposed to be paid.


    It¡¯s a task given by a gang, he thought. Was I really expecting high level secrecy?


    Naymond had also called them something along the lines of people playing at being gangsters.


    Detective Alfa also insinuated that he was responsible for dissolving competitive gangs.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe he hadn¡¯t considered the possibility that these competitive gangs would want something along the lines of payback for what had happened to them.


    And here I am, suffering for it.


    Melmarc decided he would have a lot when he got back as he ducked another swinging plank and stepped in again.


    When he threw his punch, he didn¡¯t gauge the force of his blow. He kept the punch at the same velocity but changed the point of impact. With everything [World of Insight] was giving him, he aimed true.


    His blow connected with Tod¡¯s solar plexus and and the boy doubled over. His plank fell from his hold and Melmarc kicked it away quickly.


    Tod was already moving, refusing to be put down but Melmarc was having none of it, he swung his leg and kicked the boy in the face. Tod was thrown to the side and hit the ground carelessly. He groaned with one hand on his face while another continued to hold his stomach.


    Trev looked at him without a reaction before looking back at Melmarc.


    ¡°I figured you¡¯d go for the plank,¡± he said.


    Melmarc looked at the plank lying a good distance away from them now and looked back at Tod.


    He wasn¡¯t going to go for the plank. He already had enough stats boosts running through him to accidentally kill them. The last thing he needed was a weapon.


    The only reason Tod was still conscious was because he¡¯d been too scared to put too much force in his kick. From what he¡¯d learned in self defense class¡ªwhich he was beginning to question was self-defense class¡ªa powerful enough blow to the jaw could knock someone out.


    But he¡¯d put too little force in his kick.


    Better he¡¯s in pain and not knocked out than dead from a broken neck.


    ¡°Alright, then.¡± Trev cocked his head from side to side, theatrically. ¡°My turn.¡±


    He walked up to Melmarc until they stood roughly six feet apart from each other. Tod continued to groan on the ground, his body trembling in pain or tears. Melmarc wasn¡¯t¡ª


    Tears. Definitely tears.


    The effects of [World of Insight] still had a hold on him and he knew for an undeniable fact that Tod was crying.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you in on a little secret that nobody knows,¡± Trev said as he raised his hands. ¡°I¡¯m not like other people.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what response the boy was expecting from him so he just went with the truth.


    ¡°I know.¡±


    Trev moved and Melmarc activated [Knowledge is Power] immediately. Mana burst out of him as Trev crossed the distance between them so fast Melmarc almost didn¡¯t see him move.


    But pain flared in his jaw. It lasted for the briefest moment before disappearing like it had never been there.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect].


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Another pain flared out in his stomach and was gone before Melmarc could even wince. He was very aware of what a punch to the solar plexus felt like and this was worse. Trev wasn¡¯t holding back.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand balled up in an angry fist as the attacks kept on coming. He watched the white static of his mana return to him from across the distance, bringing him information that wasn¡¯t entirely necessary right now.


    In this moment, the few seconds it normally took was beginning to feel like minutes as he took an elbow to the jaw.


    Wait for it, he told himself, watching the static. Wait for it.


    The mana burst came back to him. It went through Trev and the boy stiffened in shock.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 4.]


    [You have received 4 Potential buffs.]


    Now!


    Melmarc tightened his fist and swung with all the force he could put into it. He clocked Trev square in the jaw, watched the blow connect, felt it in his knuckles. He spun into the momentum, going for a spinning blow when the effects of [World of Insight] informed him that there was no need.


    Halfway through his turn, Trev simply crumpled to the ground like a dropped rag.


    Melmarc stared down at his unconscious body, knowing Trev was unconscious without checking.


    [Trevor Adams (Speedster)(C)].


    Many people thought all speedsters had was their speed, but anyone who paid any attention to speedsters or was a friend of Delano would know that all speedsters had strength as well. The argument was that they needed the strength boost to handle a lot of the force that came with being speedsters.


    After all, the faster you went, the greater the wind pressure. There were speedsters that were known to run as fast as cars at their top speed. And everyone knew how much air resistance a person faced from just sticking their head outside a moving vehicle.


    So he hadn¡¯t needed to hold back with Trev.


    With the danger dispatched of, Melmarc let out a heavy sigh and bent over, catching himself with his hands on his knees.


    Detective Alfa, he remembered suddenly, picking [World of Insight] once more from his selection of buffs.


    There was also another skill that helped the Gifted cross a short distance in a single step at their max speed and [Batting] which was just better swinging accuracy for a human. It wasn¡¯t difficult to tell which skill belonged to which of his attackers.


    He rushed for his phone, picked it out and scrolled hurriedly to ¡®Mrs. Lockwood.¡¯ He dialed the number as quickly as possible.


    Then he went over to Tod who was still groaning and turned the boy on his back.


    ¡°Where are they?¡± he asked.


    Alfa wasn¡¯t picking. Melmarc checked the time, at this rate he would have to run to the destination point at full sprint if he was going to be on time.


    ¡°Where are they?¡± he asked Tod again, his voice sharper. ¡°I swear to God I¡¯ll punch you in the nose if you don¡¯t answer.¡±


    Tod flinched away from him like Melmarc was the one who¡¯d ambushed him with a wooden plank not too long ago and Alfa picked.


    ¡°Mom,¡± Melmarc said in a hurry cringing from the entire situation. ¡°There¡¯s a problem, some kids from rival gangs ambushed me. I think they may have severely wounded some of the other kids.¡± He shook Tod violently. ¡°Where did you leave them.¡±


    ¡°Calm down, Marc,¡± Alfa said to Melmarc¡¯s surprise. ¡°Focus on the mission.¡±


    ¡°There are kids probably bleeding to death and you want me to calm down?¡±


    What the hell was going on?


    He would¡¯ve expected this from Naymond, but Alfa? It was wrong. Had he completely misjudged her. He had thought that if anyone would prioritize the children it would be her with how focused she was on safety.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you there are innocent boys that might be dying right now,¡± he told her a little harshly. ¡°How do you expect me to calm down.¡±


    ¡°Marc,¡± Alfa replied in a calming and assuring tone. ¡°Naymond already called me and told me. He even gave me the location of each kid. We¡¯ve dispatched ambulances to their locations and are waiting on the feedback, so you don¡¯t have to worry about them.¡±


    ¡°He did?¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. He had hoped¡­ but he hadn¡¯t expected.


    ¡°I¡¯m just as surprised as you are,¡± Alfa said. ¡°I think someone¡¯s rubbing off on him. Either that or he¡¯s got his own agenda.¡±


    Melmarc liked to think it was the former. Meanwhile Tod was mumbling something about being unable to remember where they¡¯d met the other kids.


    ¡°¡­ But I can take you to where we stashed the packages,¡± he was muttering in terror. ¡°They¡¯re not far from here. You can have them, keep the money. I won¡¯t even ask for a cut. Please don¡¯t hurt me.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t get it. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was bravado or sheer stupidity. But now that he thought about it, it was probably stupidity. From the way Trev and Tod had played their little act, Trev felt like more of the thinker and Tod the executer.


    Melmarc pulled the boy up by the shirt, surprised to see the entire side of the boy¡¯s face where he had kicked him already purpling.


    He did his best to hide his discomfort at the sight as he said, ¡°I don¡¯t need your packages, Todrick Denra. But the next time I see you, I¡¯ll give you more than just a swollen face.¡±


    And the boy¡¯s face truly was swelling. [World of Insight] told Melmarc that it was still swelling.


    ¡°I¡¯ve called an ambulance for you and your friend,¡± Melmarc continued. ¡°It would be in your best interest to follow them.¡±


    He released the boy, picked up his package, and started running.


    Melmarc run like his life depended on it, allowing the wind blow through his hair. He took a sharp turn between two buildings and vaulted over a metal-wired fence. He hit the ground with a loud thud and continued on his sprint.


    His phone rang in his pocket and he pulled it out without slowing and picked the call.


    ¡°I¡¯m late,¡± he said in a loud voice, taking another turn.


    At this point he was taking advantage of shortcuts just so he could beat the time. He had no idea what would happen if he was late. He didn¡¯t even know why he was still doing the mission. It no longer made sense to continue.


    It involved a dead guy, an S-rank Crafter with a gun, and human brains.


    It also involves far more than that.


    And if he could help stop whatever the end result was, he was going to do what he could. He was already doing the mission. The least he could do was finish it. The end was already in sight.


    He would give Naymond and Alfa what he got and leave the rest to them. They could send in another mentee for all he cared.


    As long as it¡¯s not Pelumi.


    Maybe he would have to warn Pelumi of the stakes in case they tried to get her to do continue the mission as his replacement.


    ¡°You did good.¡±


    That was the only words that came from Naymond before the call was cut.


    Against his control, a small smile touched Melmarc¡¯s lips. You don¡¯t feel good for being complimented. You¡¯re just smiling because Naymond is being nice and it¡¯s nice that he¡¯s being nice.


    A few more minutes of running and Melmarc came to a stop in front of a house. It was a simple suburban house. Well cared for with a mowed lawn and a child¡¯s tricycle lying in the front yard.


    There was a picket fence hanging open. Melmarc stepped through it, unsure. Was this the right place? It was the perfect opposite of where he¡¯d picked up the package from. What was going on?


    Melmarc checked his phone. He was at the right place, right in front of the marker he¡¯d used to mark the location on his map. He also had one minute to spare.


    It didn¡¯t make sense.


    Still looking around, he walked up to the front door and knocked.


    ¡°Come in,¡± a motherly voice called out.


    Not who¡¯s there? Melmarc thought, turning the door knob. It wasn¡¯t locked.


    Is she expecting me?


    The first thing that hit him was the sweet smell of some kind of stew being made. He wasn¡¯t sure what type of stew it was but for some reason, no matter how sweet it smelled, it was churning his stomach. It was as if he didn¡¯t like it.


    ¡°We¡¯re this way,¡± the same motherly voice called out.


    It was sweet and soothing.


    Melmarc followed the voice, walking down the narrow hallway just in front of the door. In front of him the part opened up and there was a staircase in front of him that went up. Then he came to a stop, on both sides of him were two living areas complete with furniture and a center rug and table.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    In the room on his right he was aware of a wide screen television and a gaming console with three gaming pads left carelessly about.


    He also knew that there was a CD in the console but he didn¡¯t know what CD it was. He wondered if [World of Insight] would be able to tell if he scaled up its mastery.


    On his left was the owner of the voice that had invited him in. She stood comfortably in the kitchen that was a backdrop to the living room on that side of the house, turning the contents of a deep pot over a cooker.


    She was a thick woman with curves and red hair. She wore a yellow plain apron and stared, waiting for him to come into view. Even without seeing him, she had a friendly smile on her face.


    ¡°You must be here for Georgie,¡± she said with a friendly smile when Melmarc stepped into view.


    Melmarc had no idea who he was here for.


    The Lady gestured at the center table in the living that currently held three packages that were a perfect copy of the one in his hands with a ladle. ¡°You can just drop that there and see Georgie upstairs. He told me he¡¯ll be having guests over.¡±


    The woman was already coming up to him and Melmarc half-expected to know her name. He didn¡¯t.


    [World of Insight] was similar to [Knowledge is Power] but they had their differences. While the former gave him awareness of his surroundings, the latter gave him actual in-depth information about it.


    But how? Melmarc asked himself not for the first time.


    What specific means did his skill use to get him the information it got him? Yes, he knew the answer was magic. But it was magic, not miracles. It wasn¡¯t some impossible phenomenon to explain. Yes, some skills operated on the level of what could be called miracles. But they were magical, capable of being studied.


    Maybe I should ask Naymond.


    As quickly as the thought came to his mind, Melmarc paused. Why was he asking Naymond? Why was that the first place his mind went to?


    ¡°Is everything alright, dear?¡± the lady asked, pulling Melmarc from his thoughts.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Ma¡¯am,¡± the lady chuckled shyly. ¡°Oh dear, please call me Natalie. That¡¯s what everyone calls me. If you don¡¯t want to drop that on the table, you can just give it to me and I¡¯ll help you do that. Georgie¡¯s upstairs with the hundred bucks.¡±


    The whole situation was beginning to feel too surreal.


    ¡°And if you¡¯re nice, I might throw in an extra fifty so you can get something to eat on your way home.¡±


    The lady¡¯s hand was already on the package, but Melmarc shifted it away.


    ¡°Very sorry, but if it¡¯s alright I¡¯d like to take it to Georgie myself.¡±


    Melmarc still had no idea who Georgie was.


    The lady, Natalie, gave him a curious look before shrugging and stepping away. Her friendly smile never left her face.


    ¡°If you¡¯re worried about me finding out what¡¯s in the package,¡± she said, don¡¯t be. ¡°I already know that Georgie sells drugs. But it¡¯s fine, you can take it up to him. Down the hall, second room on your left.¡±


    With that, she turned and went back to the kitchen. Melmarc noticed all the packages on te living room table remained sealed. Natalie hadn¡¯t opened any of them.


    The woman had no idea what Georgie had in those packages. And the last time he checked, human brains were not drugs.


    Unless there¡¯s some Class that gets high on it.


    Melmarc took the stairs one at a time, delaying how long it would take him to get to whoever Georgie was for as long as possible.


    While he did, he wondered at the brain in his package and why he hadn¡¯t told Alfa or Naymond what was inside.


    For the same reason you called them mom and dad when you were talking to them on the phone.


    David said someone would be watching them as they transported the packages. Which meant someone could also be listening. And he had already confirmed that there was at least one Gifted involved.


    Melmarc nodded to himself. It was the right choice not to say anything about it. He would tell them while he was informing them of his resignation from this specific line of duty.


    When he got to the door, the second one on the right, he knocked.


    ¡°What the hell is it with you people and knocking,¡± someone grumbled loudly from inside. ¡°Come the fuck in.¡±


    Melmarc opened the door and walked inside¡­ a child¡¯s room.


    But there was no child. Only the S-rank Crafter who was seating on a plastic chair obviously designed for a child, and two boys who shared seating space on a small child¡¯s bed. Jake was one of the boy¡¯s. Jake took one look at Melmarc and scowled.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t recognize the second boy.


    ¡°There!¡± the Crafter, Avram, if Melmarc remembered is real name correctly, pointed at him frantically. ¡°That right there is how you deliver a package.¡±


    He smacked his hand down on his lap.


    ¡°You don¡¯t just hand it over to some kind motherly woman, just because she gives you a pretty smile and tells you something motherly,¡± he continued, then gestured at Melmarc. ¡°Just for that, you and Jake are sharing the hundred bucks his supposed to get for bringing an extra package.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, confused. ¡°Uhh¡­ where do I drop this?¡±


    ¡°Anywhere.¡± Avram gestured nonchalant. ¡°You can¡¯t really damage what¡¯s in the package, doesn¡¯t mean you shouldn¡¯t be careful, though.¡±


    Avram and Natalie had no resemblance, not even the slightest, from what Melmarc could see. She looked a bit Irish, though she didn¡¯t have an accent while Avram looked slightly Romanian.


    She looked old enough to be the man¡¯s mother, though. She was probably pushing fifty. Still, Melmarc couldn¡¯t reconcile what seemed like a suburban mother to the man in front of him.


    ¡°No, she¡¯s not my mum,¡± Avram said. ¡°Just a friendly friend of a friend.¡±


    Melmarc frowned slightly. He really had to work on controlling his facial expressions.


    He dropped the package on a small reading table just at the corner and went to join Jake and the other boy he did not recognize on the bed.


    Had there been others before him?


    Jake shifted reluctantly, and Melmarc¡¯s size made three of them all the more uncomfortable as he wiggled into the small space. The bed looked like it had been custom made to size a ten-year-old.


    Melmarc frowned as he noticed another thing. There was something wrong with the air in the room. It was thick and heavy, but it wasn¡¯t the air. It was as if he was standing at the edge of a room filled with smoke making machines while a fan did its best to blow them away from him.


    The discomfort was there, but not there at the same time.


    No.


    Discomfort wasn¡¯t the word he was looking for. It wasn¡¯t that bad. It was¡­


    Like lying down with one leg outside the duvet and the mattress but also worrying that something under the bed is might grab your leg.


    I guess it¡¯s discomfort.


    It was like getting a comfortable feeling yet being unable to enjoy it because of the possible threat that wasn¡¯t even real.


    It wasn¡¯t making sense to Melmarc yet he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling.


    ¡°Here¡¯s your hundred and fifty.¡±


    Melmarc focused on the present and found Avram holding out two notes to him. He reached for them, not sure if he was allowed to take them, and took them.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Avram said. ¡°Osas, get out.¡±


    The boy Melmarc didn¡¯t recognize, got up and left the room so fast anyone would think something had been chasing him.


    Melmarc wished he was Osas.


    ¡°As for you two.¡± Avram smiled something sinister. ¡°I¡¯ve got an offer you can¡¯t refuse.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like the sound of that.


    ¡­


    [Alert! Alert! Alert!]


    Dorthna groaned, opening his eyes.


    It was too early for this. No, it actually wasn¡¯t, looking at the position of the sun it was just evening, drawing to the darkness of night. Maybe it was too late for this.


    He looked at the notification in front of him and dismissed it. Then he went through it, scrolling, searching for what exactly it was trying to alert him off. When he found it, he let out a tired sigh.


    David was going to be a handful on this one.


    [Severed connection detected!]


    There were literally only a handful of people he had an active connection so important that his interface would inform him of the moment there was a disconnection.


    He looked through the history of his notifications. That was weird, there had been no warning that the connection was growing weaker.


    I guess they¡¯re not dead, whoever they are, he thought.


    But there was also a chance that something had happened and the person had died on impact. Ark and Melmarc were Gifted so there was a higher chance of the death belonging to Ninra.


    It would really break the family if the girl died. Just because he could, he brought out his phone and dialed the number of all the three kids under his¡­ protection was not the word he was looking for. Maybe care was a better fit.


    None of them picked.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that just making my work harder.¡± He could look through his connections but he really wasn¡¯t a fan of interacting with his interface, knowing what he knew about it.


    But he had no choice. A severed connection with no preamble could mean a very wide array of things, and he wasn¡¯t going to call the head of the Lockwood family just to speculate. The Oath of Madness wasn¡¯t known for his disciplined patience when it came to his family.


    Also, it wouldn¡¯t be advisable to talk to the man right now, not when his duty had kept him away from his family for almost a month now. As unusual as it was, Dorthna knew why.


    There were too many S-rank portals opening within the last month. In fact, the rate of their appearance in the country was far too high.


    ¡°Almost as if someone was opening the portals,¡± Dorthna muttered.


    Portals were naturally occurring but it wasn¡¯t to say that someone powerful enough couldn¡¯t make one open.


    And the rate of opening, if done by someone, was being done by a really powerful someone with access to a very vast amounts of mana.


    Dorthna knew a number of creatures with the intelligence and mana pool to pull of such a thing.


    The world needed the Oaths right now more than they knew. He found where the connection was broken from, or more precisely, whose connection was broken, and dialed a new number on his phone.


    He put the phone to his ear, staring at the name on his interface.


    The call rang once before someone picked.


    ¡°Code,¡± a female voice answered.


    ¡°four, two, eight, nine, eleven, fifty-six,¡± Dorthna answered calmly.


    ¡°Security status?¡±


    ¡°Safe as the Oath of Shield.¡±


    ¡°Request?¡±


    ¡°Governance.¡±


    ¡°Designation?¡±


    ¡°Madness.¡±


    There was a short moment as Dorthna waited.


    ¡°Line is secure,¡± the lady¡¯s voice came back. ¡°Unfortunately, the Oath of Madness cannot come to the call right now. Would you like to contact a different Governance?¡±


    ¡°Yes, War.¡±


    ¡°Sincerest apologies but we do not have anyone currently registered under that Governance.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. He¡¯d forgotten that Mrs. Lockwood was no longer an Oath. Whatever had happened on the night of the attack had cost far too much. If he was to believe her, she¡¯d practically died in the hospital and had sacrificed her world designation as an Oath to come back.


    Dorthna hadn¡¯t heard of such a thing happening before, and frankly didn¡¯t want to know.


    ¡°Would you like to contact a different Governance?¡± the female voice repeated.


    ¡°No,¡± Dorthna said. This line couldn¡¯t contact anyone that was not an Oath. ¡°But do you know if Mrs. Lockwood, former Oath of War is available?¡±


    Another moment of silence.


    ¡°Mrs. Lockwood is currently on a designated mission and will not be reachable right now. If you would like, I can present you with a number you could contact. You might not be able to speak with her but you could leave her a message.¡±


    Dorthna almost laughed. Now that she was no longer an Oath, they had added her back to the world ranking and simply gave her the regular top hundred world ranking security measure.


    ¡°No, thank you,¡± he answered. ¡°I¡¯d rather leave a message for madness.¡±


    ¡°That is noted. Madness will be informed the moment he is available. Please leave a message after the tone.¡±


    A small beep followed and Dorthna sucked in a readying breath.


    ¡°Hey, Madness, it¡¯s me,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a bit of a problem and I need you to not lose your shit.¡±


    He paused, unsure of how to say the next words. In the end, he just ripped the band-aid off.


    ¡°It¡¯s Melmarc,¡± he said, standing at the edge of the roof of a skyscraper and staring at the dying sun. "I can''t find him."


    ¡­


    The discomfort in the air worsened as Melmarc sat down, finally comfortable with the exit of the third boy.


    He fought the urge to look around since the feeling he was getting was slowly beginning to feel like a physical thing.


    ¡°How about we take this to somewhere more comfortable?¡± Avram said.


    Jake was more than happy to agree.


    They left the room but didn¡¯t go downstairs. Instead, Avram led them to another room. It was large and wide, and empty. All it had were two windows that let in fresh air. Both windows had neither blinds nor curtains. They were bare.


    ¡°Go stand at the wall,¡± Avram said, gesturing at the wall at the farthest end of the room.


    Jake turned and started walking but the feeling Melmarc was getting was only getting worse.


    ¡°No,¡± he refused. Something told him that if he obeyed things weren¡¯t going to end well.


    ¡°What did you say?¡± Avram asked in a threatening tone.


    Unsure and unwilling to obey, Melmarc did something he never did. He took one serious step closer to Avram and set his face in a grim expression, dominating with his height.


    It was a page from one of Ark¡¯s intimidation techniques, and people always tended to cower whenever Eroms unintentionally got too close to them and towered over them.


    ¡°No.¡± Melmarc repeated.


    He saw indecision war on Avram¡¯s face before the man stepped away from him and laughed.


    ¡°That right there is why I know I¡¯m making the right choice.¡± He laughed. ¡°The power! The authority!¡± Then he sneered. ¡°The sheer stupidity!¡±


    He reached into his pocket and brought out a gun.


    He pointed it at Melmarc and Jake let out a very pathetic yelp where he was.


    ¡°What did you say, Weaver?¡± Avram said, gun aimed forward in a sideways grip. ¡°I dare you, say it again. Ain¡¯te ever seen no weaver dodge a bullet before.¡±


    Melmarc was terrified and confused. For one, he had a freaking gun pointed at his face. For another, why the hell was Avram calling him a weaver?


    The answer hit him a moment after and he frowned. David.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right,¡± Avram increased the distance between them but his gun didn¡¯t waver. ¡°You got to learn where you place your trust, Melmarc, C-rank weaver, police mentee. You see I know all about your stupid ass. You thought you could just waltz in and waltz out, huh. The sheer fucking stupidity.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know what to do. What was there to do? It wasn¡¯t like he had a skill that could help him in this situation. All [World of Insight] showed him was that Avram wasn¡¯t going to miss a shot from this distance.


    But surprisingly, he was more worried by the feeling of uncomfortable comfort that was now becoming a heavy weight on his shoulder. He could argue with anybody that it was now a physical thing and he was groaning under the pain of it.


    ¡°Scared?¡± Avram asked. ¡°You should be. Your foolish friends sent you out here to die. Your friend in the hat set this whole thing up. Told me who you are, your name, your rank, your class. That¡¯s what you get for trusting the cops.¡±


    Melmarc took a step forward as the weight of his feeling doubled behind him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare try any funny shit, kid.¡± Avram shook the gun at him. ¡°I¡¯ve killed for less. So don¡¯t you dare¡­ What the hell?¡±


    Jake let out a loud scream behind Melmarc that ended very abruptly. Too abruptly.


    He would¡¯ve turned back to check what was going on if Avram wasn¡¯t pointing a gun directly at his face and if his interface wasn¡¯t already terrifying the life out of him with the notification it was showing him.


    [Portal detected]


    [Status effect August Guest detected.]


    [As an August Guest Render all necessary aid in the closure of Portal.]


    Distance from Portal: 0.00km


    There was a loud bang downstairs followed by someone shouting something about the Gifted police department and how someone had to put their weapons down.


    Melmarc recognized Naymond¡¯s voice even from so far away.


    Avram turned frantic immediately. He looked left, then right. ¡°Fuck! FUCKKKKK!!!!¡±


    Melmarc lunged forward at the gun and his awareness flared before he even finished leaning forward. From the littlest thing he felt, he got everything he needed to know.


    You have activated [Knowledge is Power].


    Avram pulled the trigger in paranoia, pumped five bullets into Melmarc¡¯s chest. The sound of each shot echoed in Melmarc¡¯s ears as pain filled his brain until it threatened to break him and his interface spammed a single notification in front of him.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect].


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    With no piercing damage to disperse the force of each bullet, they became a different kind of force as they ricocheted off Melmarc.


    Each bullet pushed him back as Avram continued to pull the trigger until Melmarc felt something different.


    It was like putting his hand at the mouth of the vacuum cleaner as a child, a sucking sensation that pulled him in whole.


    [You have entered a portal]


    [Rank ¨C C]


    [Portal Quest- Pending assignment]


    [Dear August Intruder, Do your best to save your world].


    Pain filled Melmarc¡¯s head and he let out a pained shriek as the sensation swallowed him whole. He felt as if he was being drawn and quartered.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect].


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    ¡­


    [Error! Error! Error!]


    [Unstable Existence Detected.]


    [Mental instability imminent]


    [World Protection detected.]


    [Initiating World Protection.]


    [World Buff August Guest is in effect.]


    Darkness swallowed Melmarc as he fell into the portal.


    ¡­


    Shit! Shit! Shit! Naymond swore as he ran up the stairs.


    He¡¯d been running ever since he¡¯d felt the S-rank crafter in the designated building Melmarc was supposed to drop the package in.


    When he¡¯d gotten to the building he¡¯d all but broken the door down by running straight into it the moment he sensed the Crafter draw a gun on Melmarc.


    This hadn¡¯t been how it was supposed to go. No real threat was supposed to be here for another week. He¡¯d miscalculated greatly, and Alfa¡¯s punishment or even the government¡¯s punishment was the last thing on his mind.


    The fools back at the precinct didn¡¯t know but there were greater things to worry about when it came to Melmarc Lockwood¡¯s safety. And the last thing they wanted was the kinds of people he knew coming to ask questions.


    When the beautiful lady had come out of the kitchen to talk to Naymond, he¡¯d lied and claimed he was the police. It wasn¡¯t a complete lie, but he knew Alfa would beg to differ.


    Melmarc had still been upstairs when Naymond noticed the lady¡¯s form. He had been a Sage long enough to know what the form of a skill designed to kill looked like.


    She was unfortunate for it.


    She didn¡¯t seem powerful enough and the moment he turned her form in on her, everything was over. She dropped to her knees with blood pooling from her nose.


    Five gunshots filled the house and fear grabbed Naymond by the balls at the same time he felt a human turn into a statue of pepper, a portal open, and a boy fall into it.


    Naymond made his way up the stairs, taking them as many as he could in each stride. He barged into the massive room only to duck into a roll.


    The sound of gunshots filled the air as the Crafter fired at him which were followed by a clicking sound.


    ¡°Gifted Police Department!¡± Naymond roared at him, but his eyes were on the active portal. ¡°Get down on the ground. NOW!¡±


    The Crafter didn¡¯t obey. Instead, he looked from side to side, frowned and did the dumbest thing he could possibly have done.


    ¡°YOU WON¡¯T TAKE ME ALIVE!¡± he screamed dramatically as he dived into the portal.


    Naymond¡¯s jaw dropped, but his hands were already working. Standing in front of a portal, his hands shook as he dialed Alfa¡¯s number. Behind the portal was a perfectly sculpted statue of pepper.


    Naymond recognized the face of the first boy that had jumped Melmarc.


    ¡°Naymond¡ª¡±


    ¡°No time to talk,¡± he cut Alfa off in a hurry. ¡°A portal just spawned and we¡¯ve got a million and one problems.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to get everyone in that vicinity clear.¡± He could hear Alfa moving about, probably following protocols. ¡°What of the Romanian? Did you get him?¡±


    Naymond chuckled darkly.


    The Romanians were the least of their problems right now. In fact, the entire Gifted Romanian cartel achieving whatever goals they had for the country were the least of their problems.


    ¡°Naymond, you¡¯ve got to listen to me,¡± Alfa said when he didn¡¯t answer. ¡°If you didn¡¯t get the Romanian that¡¯s fine, but you¡¯ve got to secure Marc and get the hell out of there. I¡¯ve read your psych evaluation and I know how you react to portals. You can¡¯t go anywhere near a portal right now.¡±


    You don¡¯t say, Naymond scoffed, staring at the swirling blue sphere in front of him.


    His hands continued to tremble.


    They had no idea just how terrified of portals he was. She¡¯d read his psych evaluation? He had more intelligence stats than she had overall stats, she had no idea just how terrified of portals he was.


    And yet, he had greater fears than portals.


    ¡°Where are you Naymond?¡± Alfa asked.


    ¡°The house doesn¡¯t have a number or a street name. And the kid fell in.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean the kid fell in?¡±


    Naymond¡¯s eyes never left the portal. He knew what he had to do but didn¡¯t know if he had the courage to do it.


    Maybe not courage, he thought. But there was more than enough fear to go around. And fear was a powerful motivator.


    ¡°Naymond! You can¡¯t go into that portal!¡± Alfa ordered. ¡°This is an order from your supervising officer! You cannot go into that portal!¡±


    Naymond snorted. ¡°You have no idea what kinds of shit we¡¯re about to be in right now.¡±


    ¡°Naymond Hitchcock, leave that house and be on standby. A team has already been dispatched and all available Delvers have been informed of the urgency of your position.¡±


    The Delvers wouldn¡¯t be fast enough. A C-rank portal wasn¡¯t given as high a priority as people liked to think. The Delvers would waste their time.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to leave my phone here so you can track my location,¡± he said, voice shaking. ¡°If the Delvers start dragging their feet, tell Eckberth that one of the mentees got into the portal. Alfa, this is no time to be worrying about yourself and what would happen if they find out a mentee fell in a portal. Believe me, it will be worse if you don¡¯t give them that information. If Eckberth drags his feet, take it all the way to the commissioner. You have enough clout for that.¡±


    ¡°Naymond. DON¡¯T!¡±


    Naymond was no longer listening. He placed his phone on the ground with the call still in progress and stepped up to the portal.


    Like skills, all portals had a form. And when a Sage grew enough to see a portal''s form they knew that the last thing anyone ever wanted to do, Delver or not, was enter it.


    Still, there were greater terrors than portals.


    ¡°Better to play with a portal,¡± he muttered. ¡°Than to play with madness.¡±


    Naymondeel Art Hitchcock stepped in.

 FORTY-FIVE: Void Beast

    Avram Boteza stood in a tunnel of swirling blue.


    The ground was solid under his feet. Straight and even. Yet to his eyes it was as though he was standing in a tunnel of sea blue clouds, the walls and floor and ceiling encircling him in a spiral twirl.


    It was discomfiting to the eyes.


    What was I thinking? He panicked, staring wide eyed at everything.


    He¡¯d never been in a portal before. All his life as a Gifted had been spent in a Romanian lab. Even this particular outing he was on was not sanctioned. He¡¯d snuck out of the lab for some fresh air after hearing a thing or two about this specific plan and had high-jacked it.


    He¡¯d found a particularly malleable guy connected to the plan he¡¯d heard about and had been lucky to get far more information than he¡¯d hoped for.


    He held his hands up to his head, paused, remembering he was holding a gun and wanted to slip it back into his waist band when he realized that he had no gun.


    It was impossible. He clearly remembered holding it in his hand when he¡¯d run from the man in the suit. He couldn¡¯t even begin to believe he¡¯d actually met the man in the suit. In the Romanian lab, the man in the suit had been spoken off like a legend. The boogeyman hiding in the dark.


    He was the reason Romania had been having a difficult time setting up an actual base in the whole of America. The funniest part was that nobody knew how the man in suit could sabotage all their plans all across America from just one location.


    It was crazy and had been driving everyone mad.


    And you get the chance to kill. But what do you do? You run away. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!


    He smacked himself in the side of the head with each thought.


    You chose a portal over some asshole in a suit. Avram frowned. Not a man in a suit. A legend.


    But did it really matter? What was a legend to a portal? Avram hadn¡¯t even had the chance to check what rank the portal was. He didn¡¯t eve know how to.


    I¡¯m S-rank, he reassured himself. Unless it¡¯s an SS-rank portal, I should be fine.


    But what if it was an SS-rank portal? They were rare but not impossible. He wasn¡¯t even a combat class.


    Avram shut his thoughts down as hard as he could until they were nothing but mutters and mumblings buzzing in his head.


    The drug was messing with him. The drug he created himself. Yes, Danielle always said not to test your own shit, but how the hell was he going to know how effective it was if he didn¡¯t test it?


    Avram realized he¡¯d been standing in place for a long time. It was stupid of him. What would he do if the man in suit was right behind, chasing after him.


    He was already in the portal without a plan, and he sure as hell couldn¡¯t turn back. All that was left to do was to just wing it. Hopefully something good would come out of it.


    Avram moved to rush forward and stopped. There was a body right beside him, lying helpless on the ground. The swirling blue of the portal blanketed him like a misty duvet so that he was easy to miss.


    Avram bent to look at the body. He turned it and wasn¡¯t surprised to find that it was the C-rank weaver he¡¯d shot earlier.


    What was surprising, though, was that he had no bullet wounds. His shirt had holes where Avram had shot him but there was no blood. No injury.


    Did he heal? Is he one of those weavers with super healing?


    Avram doubted it. No one healed that quickly, not even an S-class. That was the purview of the SS-ranks. And even then, he wasn¡¯t so sure of it. Gifted in that rank kept what they were capable of doing as close to their chest as they could.


    Wondering how the child had survived wasn¡¯t important. What was important was how he could use the boy.


    Avram picked him up from under the arms and started dragging him deeper into the portal. It was a stupid plan but maybe he could use him as a hostage.


    And where will you hide? He asked himself. You have no idea what you¡¯re even walking into.


    SHUT UP! This is not my fault. And I¡¯m not stupid. I¡¯m just a guy, for fucksake. A guy who made a mistake.


    Snot gathered at his nostrils as tears filled his eyes and he sniffled.


    He shouldn¡¯t have left the lab.


    But it didn¡¯t mean he had to give up on surviving.


    He had a hostage, now all he needed was a plan. But the boy was large, and he worked with the police.


    Doesn¡¯t that mean he¡¯ll know how to defend himself? I don¡¯t have a gun anymore, and weavers are fighters.


    He frowned, his mind struggling to work. That¡¯s it. I¡¯ll break an arm and a leg. That should keep me stronger.


    He held the boy¡¯s arm in both of his and bent it in the elbow in the opposite direction. The arm refused to give, and he put his back into it. For all his S-rank, here he was breaking a child¡¯s limbs just so he could be stronger. A C-rank for that matter.


    Pathetic.


    <<I agree.>>


    Avram released the boy in terror and staggered away from the body. The words had echoed all over the place and yet had seemed to pierce his mind as well. And while they were not English or Romanian, he¡¯d understood them.


    He looked around, panicking. ¡°Who¡¯s there? Show yourself!¡±


    For all he¡¯d heard about portals, he¡¯d never heard anything about voices in people¡¯s heads. He turned, sitting on the floor, deep blue mist swirling around him as it continued its spiral.


    <<A curious thing,>> the voice returned.


    Avram¡¯s bladder gave out in fear and his pants grew warm and wet.


    ¡°S¡­stop playing games!¡± he shouted. ¡°I¡¯m an S-ranker I¡¯ll kill you in the blink of an eye.¡±


    <<Why do you S-rankers think you¡¯re so important?>> the voice carried a touch of curiosity. <<It¡¯s the same everywhere.>>


    A small thing, humanoid, and as tall as one foot, maybe two, descended to hover in front of Avram.


    He stared at the creature in utter confusion.


    ¡°A... chibi?¡± he blurted.


    It had proportional limbs to body ratio for its height but a large head. It looked very much like a chibi he saw in cartoons. But that was where the resemblance to being humanoid ended.


    For one, it didn¡¯t have a mouth. And its eyes¡­ they were just short horizontal lines like someone was playing a sick joke and couldn¡¯t be bothered with them. Its head was simply round and white and the rest of its body was black with purple stains for hands and feet.


    Avram realized the thing didn¡¯t have hands and feet. It just had stubs in place of hands and feet, purple stubs.


    Yet, if he didn¡¯t currently have its voice in his head, he would¡¯ve found it cute.


    <<How are you hearing me?>> the creature asked with the same level of curiosity it had always carried. It moved its hand to its face in human curiosity. <<And how are you seeing me?>>


    Avram wasn¡¯t sure what to say or do. So he did what he had control over. He bent down, abandoning the idea of breaking the boy¡¯s arm, and started pulling him.


    The moment he began, he realized it had been the wrong decision.


    The creature¡¯s eyes¡ªif he could call them eyes¡ªdarted straight to the boy and Avram could¡¯ve sworn its face twisted in an expression. But all his mind interpreted the expression as was wrong.


    Simply wrong.


    <<Ah, I see.>> the creature floated closer but still kept a distance. <<You have one of mine.>>


    One of its?


    Avram had no idea what was happening. Was some portal creature claiming the boy?


    Why?


    Even without an answer, he released the boy very quickly and backed away.


    The creature cocked its head to the side. <<Why is it asleep?>>


    Avram did his very best not to answer. He inched deeper into the tunnel very slowly.


    The creature took that as its chance to lower itself to the boy.


    <<Large for its age.>> it mused. <<Oh, I see. So it¡¯s the problem with the problem.>> It shook its head. <<It has a problem. I fix.>>


    It moved its hand to touch the boy and paused.


    <<No. Fixing not matter right now.>>


    What¡¯s wrong with its speech?


    The thing had been talking just fine until a moment ago.


    No, Avram. This isn¡¯t the time to be thinking about what doesn¡¯t concern you. Just run. Let the man in suit deal with this.


    He turned and fled into the tunnel. He¡¯d barely taken three steps when the creature appeared in front of him.


    <<Friend or foe?>>


    Avram froze.


    The creature pointed at the boy¡¯s body. <<You friend or foe?>>


    Fear held Avram tight, like an overbearing mother. Breathing became hard, and a manual task. Tears streamed down his eyes as he wet himself again.


    If the smell of his piss bothered the creature, it didn¡¯t show it.


    ¡°F¡­ friend?¡± he stuttered. ¡°Close friend.¡±


    <<Friends.>> A line appeared on the creature¡¯s face where its mouth would be. It was long and cartoonish. it was simply straight and horizontal with no curves. <<Friend break friend¡¯s arm.>>


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The blood drained from Avram¡¯s face.


    <Friend lie.>> Somehow its voice suddenly had a tone. Deep and ominous. <<I wake it. Then I fix it. But now, I help it.>>


    ¡°Oh, God, please no,¡± Avram cried as the line that should¡¯ve been a mouth split into something monstrous.


    He stared at a sharp fanged mouth with nothing inside it. No tongue or gullet or anything. Just pure red depths.


    <<Your God cannot save you here.>>


    ¡­


    Naymond walked into the portal very slowly. He watched his steps, not that he had to.


    There was a loud chomping sound as he walked in, and he felt the emptiness of being unable to use his skills, but his perks as a Sage still worked and he wished they didn¡¯t.


    While most people would see the swirling blue of clouds all over the place, he saw those and more. He saw the monsters lurking beneath the cloudy exterior. Saw their forms, grotesque and inhumane. Nothing with forms so sick and disfigured deserved to be alive. And yet they were.


    He closed his eyes to them and heard a sudden chomp.


    Naymond took a few more steps forward before coming to a halt. He saw the source of the chomping sound and wasn¡¯t surprised.


    Of all the creatures he¡¯d ever had the displeasure of seeing, these ones were the most disgusting. He remembered throwing up when he¡¯d grown well enough as a Sage to see their form. If he had any regrets to growing stronger, this was it.


    The creature stood in the air above him, chibi-like in nature. Its head was a pure white and it looked at him with two horizontal slits for eyes. The rest of its body was a deep black that ended as purple stubs at the limbs.


    It stared at him and he looked up at it. These things never came down to human level. And they never spoke.


    Naymond waited patiently, watching it as it watched him. He didn¡¯t know if they were present in every portal or only showed up when someone that could see them appeared. Sometimes it spoke to Oaths, but even that was very rarely.


    And Oaths knew to be wary of what laid on the other side of a portal when one of these things chose to speak.


    It was a very eerie feeling to know that people walked into portals everyday with these things watching them while they couldn¡¯t see it.


    After a while, Naymond spoke. ¡°Did you see a tall child come through here? As tall as me, maybe taller. He is young but not too young. A Faker.¡±


    Even now, he didn¡¯t know if these things could actually tell classes apart. But he knew that he was aware of it, that he could see it and knew it could hear him. So the silent treatment was intentional.


    But despite their terrifying forms and eerie presence, they were not violent. He¡¯d seen Delvers who¡¯d had the fortune or misfortune of seeing them attempt violence only to be avoided and ignored throughout the entire process.


    After a very short moment, the creature moved to the side.


    You¡¯re done with me, huh?


    Naymond didn¡¯t like this. He didn¡¯t know if Melmarc was dead or alive. He couldn¡¯t go back out there and say he couldn¡¯t find Melmarc without giving it his all. The boy¡¯s father had a knack for knowing when a person was lying. With his expressionless face and dreary eyes and¡­


    Naymond shivered just thinking about Melmarc¡¯s father.


    ¡°Forward it is,¡± he muttered, walking on. ¡°Please don¡¯t be dead, kid. Please don¡¯t be dead.¡±


    There was also the Crafter to worry about, but the man wasn¡¯t capable of anything Naymond couldn¡¯t deal with.


    He rushed down the rest of the portal until he came out on the other side, missing the small puddle of blood that had been on the ground covered in swirling blue mist.


    Behind him, the creature watched in amusement. Though only a handful of Gifted could recognize the expression.


    ¡­


    Melmarc woke up with an aching pain all over his body. It felt like he¡¯d hit the gym after two years and done all the reps for all the body parts. He could barely move a muscle.


    Still, the pain in his body beat all over like a headache.


    He groaned, and even that was painful. His mind was also hazy, unable to recall what had happened. All he could remember was the pain.


    Around him was an unfamiliar room of blue and green and a vague touch of yellow he couldn¡¯t quite place. It was like lying down in a cloud house with too many colors. There was also a weight on his stomach.


    <<Good. You wake.>>


    His ears perked up at the child-like voice and he stared at the creature on top of him. It was a chibi and it stared at him with two vertical slashes for eyes. And while he¡¯d understood it, he was sure it wasn¡¯t speaking in any language he¡¯d ever heard before.


    Except for the eyes, there was nothing on its face. But why does it feel like it¡¯s excited¡­ smiling.


    Melmarc had no idea what it was. Then he remembered.


    He¡¯d fallen into a portal.


    ¡°I was shot,¡± he blurted out and his lips hurt like someone had taken a knife and draw a clean cut along them


    He winced at the pain and the creature on top of him shuffled up his body to sit on his chest.


    <<Try not to talk,>> it said and he heard the voice both outside and inside his head. <<You are error. Problem. Not incomplete, but unfinished. I fix.>>


    Melmarc wanted to struggle but he hurt too much. Also, for some reason the creature didn¡¯t feel strange or unfamiliar. If anything, he was getting a friendly feeling from it.


    The creature stood up then placed a hand on his chest. It looked as if it was making a superhero pose.


    Melmarc¡¯s interface appeared in front of him.


    [Unstable Existence Detected.]


    [Mental Instability imminent]


    [World Protection detected.]


    [Initiating World Protection.]


    [Status World Buff is in effect.]


    ¡­


    [Unauthorized intervention detected.]


    The creature frowned, yet its expression didn¡¯t change.


    It took its hand from his chest, scratched its head, tapped its face in thought, then put its hand back down.


    It was a weird feeling. Throughout the entire process of actions it had carried no expression, yet Melmarc had felt different expressions from it. Confusion. Worry. Frustration. Satisfaction.


    A new notification appeared.


    [Effect of August Guest disabled]


    The pain doubled. Tripled. Then it subsided.


    [Catalyst has been introduced.]


    [Unknown possible effects detected.]


    [Anomaly detected.]


    [August Guest and Intruder Buffs detected]


    [Existential anomaly detected.]


    [Rectifying anomaly.]


    [Termination of anomaly in progress]


    Panic flared in Melmarc¡¯s chest


    <<Oops!>> The chibi-like creature smiled sheepishly. <<Not intended. I fix.>>


    For some reason, Melmarc couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this was not how the creature normally spoke.


    <<I fix quickly,>> It continued in a hurry, turning its hand one way. <<And you remember me in rise to power.>>


    What rise to power?


    Did the thing mean ranks?


    [Catalyst detected.]


    [Termination terminated.]


    [World Synergy detected.]


    [Synergizing.]


    The creature got up and wiped its brows that did not exist. It was a very human-like action.


    It¡¯s faking it.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how he knew, but he was sure of it.


    Then the creature jumped, pumping its hand in the air. <<Yes! I fix.>>


    Melmarc was about to ask what was happening when his interface notified him of an update.


    [New identity detected.]


    ¡­


    [World Buffs and Debuffs have been disabled.]


    [Existential Buff is now in effect]


    [Existential Designation: August Intruder]


    August Intruder


    A Sapient life form representing its world has been detected.


    Effect: +3% Mastery to all skills.


    Effect: +2% Mastery to all skills on active quest.


    Welcome.


    Melmarc stared at the notification in front of him in confusion. What the hell was an August Intruder?


    He wasn¡¯t complaining, though. He would take all the skill mastery he could get. But what worried him was the description. While he¡¯d been under the [Intruder] and [August Guest] buff and debuff, he¡¯d been referred to as a Sentient life form. Now it was calling him a Sapient one.


    All sapient life forms were sentient but not all sentient life forms were sapient. Another thing he realized was that everyone was wrong about how the interface worked.


    Melmarc¡¯s mind was running through the motions when something jumped at him from out of the corner of his eye.


    He rolled away from it in panic, accidentally knocking over the creature that was still standing on his chest. When he came to a stop, the creature was floating in the air and there was nothing in the direction he¡¯d fled from.


    <<A good Intruder,>> the creature said. <<You see them?>>


    Melmarc nodded hesitantly. ¡°What are they?¡±


    He looked around but saw nothing. But they were there. He could see them if he wasn¡¯t trying. Just there, hovering at the edge of his periphery. He had no other word to describe them except that they were monsters.


    <<Failures.>> The creature¡¯s words were final, as if Melmarc had asked it about rain.


    Melmarc got up, happy that the soreness and all the pain were gone. ¡°Failures at what?¡±


    The creature paused, face actually squeezing in thought. <<Too soon. You not supposed to know. I tell you later.>>


    ¡°Okay.¡± The question had been a reflexive one, not necessarily important. But he did have an important question. ¡°Alright. What of you? Can you tell me what you are?¡±


    The creature¡¯s face lit up. <<I am Void-beast designation 12849.>>


    Melmarc ws very sure he wouldn¡¯t remember the numbers. ¡°Can I just call you Veebee?¡±


    The creature nodded. <<Yes. But just me.>>


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure who else he was possibly going to call Veebee. ¡°So what¡¯s a Void-beast?¡±


    <<Void beast existential life form,>> Veebee answered easily.


    Melmarc looked around him, taking in the entirety of the tunnel. It was all blue now, the other varying colors of green and yellow gone as if they had never been.


    ¡°Is an existential life form different from a sapient life form?¡±


    Veebee scoffed condescendingly. <<Existential life form stronger than Sapient life form.>>


    ¡°And sentient life form?¡±


    <<All things sentient life form.>>


    Melmarc nodded. That made sense. He opened his mouth to ask another question when something in Veebee¡¯s expression changed.


    He couldn¡¯t quite say what it was if a person asked him, but he just knew.


    <<You are out of time,>> Veebee said blandly.


    ¡°Okay but I need to know something,¡± Melmarc said in a hurry as Veebee started floating away.


    <<No, you cannot go back.>> Veebee folded its arms, still floating away and Melmarc was forced to follow it. <<All [August Intruders] must ensure successful closure of portal upon entry.>>


    Was it reading his mind?


    ¡°What if I don¡¯t know how?¡±


    <<You find way. Yes, two people came before you. One was friend. Friend try to break arm. I take care of friend.>>


    Melmarc moved his arms at Veebee¡¯s words and was happy to find them intact and fully functional.


    <<The other, Sage, ask of you.>>


    ¡°And what did you tell him?¡±


    <<Veebee too important to talk to sentient life form, unless special circumstance. Veebee only talk to Sapient and Existential life form.>>


    That was rude. So it did consider them to be something of lesser life forms. And it was definitely reading his mind. That worried him¡­ a lot.


    Veebee¡¯s eyes turned to two dots. <<Time is finished. Must assign you August Intruder quest now.>>


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    <<A quest just for you.>> Veebee answered, a hand swiping through the air. <<A time will come when personal guide will be assigned to you. People like [Telpods] and [Nenits]. Veebee hate [Telpods] and [Nenits]. When time come, please remember Void-beast designation 12849.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he would be able to remember all of that.


    <<Ah,>> Veebee celebrated. <<I find quest. For you, not too hard.>>


    A part of Melmarc was happy to hear that even though he had no idea what was really going on. If he was getting a quest for himself, did that still mean he had to also complete the portal quest?


    <<Yes.>> Veebee swiped with its hand. <<Your quest give you personal reward. Portal quest close portal. I have assign quest to you. Quest will reveal when you are outside portal. Go. And remember Void-beast designation 12849.¡±


    Again, Melmarc was sure he wouldn¡¯t remember the number, but he promised himself that he would try.


    Veebee remained hovering in the air, legs crossed and arms folded as if lounging on a chair. He stared at Melmarc as Melmarc went towards the end of the portal.


    When Melmarc got to what looked like another portal, he turned back.


    ¡°Why do you talk that way?¡±


    Veebee said nothing. Melmarc got the feeling it was hesitating.


    ¡°I know you can talk normally. At least I think I know.¡±


    <<Everybody like [Telpods] and [Nenits],>> Veebee answered. <<[Telpods] and [Nenits] talk like this and everybody choose them. Is this not cute?>>


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure. He could see it as cute on a child, maybe a three-year-old or a four-year-old. But he wasn¡¯t sure.


    He shrugged. ¡°I think it¡¯s okay. When you said you took care of the friend that tried to break my arm, what did you mean?¡±


    Veebee paused, slightly confused. <<I¡¯m eating him.>>


    Melmarc raised a finger, mouth open, then dropped it. ¡°You don¡¯t have a mouth, Veebee.¡±


    That was definitely not what he wanted to say.


    Veebee, however, seemed to take offense. <<Veebee have mouth.>>


    Then Veebee opened its mouth and Melmarc wished he hadn¡¯t said anything about mouths.


    With an awkward wave, he stepped through the portal, hoping Veebee didn¡¯t notice his fear.


    When Melmarc stepped out of the portal, it was into a large meadow with massive trees and what looked like ruined castles and small buildings in the distance.


    [Welcome to The Ruins of Caldath]


    ¡­


    [Portal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free these innocent servants from their unfair damnation.


    [Portal Objective: Find the orb of Caldath.]


    [August Intruder detected.]


    [Personal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free all from their eternal damnation.


    [Quest objective: Defeat Demi-god Caldath.]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery.]


    ¡°How the hell am I supposed to kill a demi-god?¡± Melmarc muttered to himself.


    If this was Veebee¡¯s definition of easy, he didn¡¯t want to see what the creature considered hard.


    At least it was a good thing that the August intruder quest was optional¡­


    It is optional¡­ right?


    Melmarc really wished he had asked the creature this question when he¡¯d had the chance.


    ¡­


    Alone again, Veebee turned to one of the monsters in the wall.


    <<Don¡¯t touch that!>> it scolded a group of monsters struggling over a bitten off human arm. <<I¡¯m not done with it.>>

 FORTY-SIX: Damned

    Melmarc looked behind him and there was no portal.


    That was his first touch of panic.


    All portals remained. They were stationary, waiting until whatever quest completion requirements were met. From the little he knew, Delver teams always had a way to keep the track of the portal. Sometimes they would leave someone behind to protect the portal, other times they would tag it somehow before embarking on the quest.


    His current situation of having no portal was not unheard of, it was just worrying. There were often portals like this, on earth, they were stationery, but they opened up to different parts on the other side.


    Delvers would be separated and part of the mission would be finding themselves. There were usually processes for this. Some teams, depending on what the quest was, would converge before moving on. Sometimes they would simply head for their target.


    The exit portal will be waiting at the point of completion.


    Melmarc pulled up his quests once more.


    [Portal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free these innocent servants from their unfair damnation.


    [Portal Objective: Find the orb of Caldath.]


    [August Intruder detected.]


    [Personal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free all from their eternal damnation.


    [Quest objective: Defeat Demi-god Caldath.]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery.]


    Staring at the [August Intruder] quest, it was hard not to want to accomplish it. If he set aside the terror of the unknown, which was what would happen if he didn¡¯t complete it, the reward alone was enough motivation.


    5% mastery isn¡¯t something people just stumble on.


    The question was if the percentage was added to a random skill or if it was something he could split or if it was given to all his skills. There was a part of him that had a very strong feeling that it was most likely the second option. Portals, after all, were not known for their benefits.


    Then there was the¡ª


    August Intruder effect detected


    Effect: +3% Mastery to all skills.


    ¡­


    Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 8.67%)


    Knowledge Is Power (Mastery 9.99%)


    ¡­


    August Intruder active quest effect detected


    Effect: +2% Mastery to all skills on active quest.


    Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 10.67%)


    Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +1.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.


    Knowledge Is Power (Mastery 11.99%)


    The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back to them as information.


    ¡­


    Knowledge Is Power (Mastery 11.99%)


    While skill is in effect you can neither inflict damage nor be damaged.


    Conclusion of skill will end inability to deal damage or be damaged.


    Conclusion of skill grants conditional mastery of all information received for ten minutes.


    All threats, allies, and neutrals detected are highlighted for eleven minutes.


    Gifted has partial control of extremities while skill is in effect.


    Melmarc read the notifications once more.


    He ignored the touch of breeze against his skin and the soft ground beneath his feet.


    So these are what they do after 10%.


    They got better but he couldn¡¯t really say they got amazing. The lasting 3% mastery that came from being an [August Intruder] hadn¡¯t succeeded in pushing him past the 10% mark but the effect on active quest had done that.


    There was a part of him that had hoped the effect would push him to a skill upgrade, and not just the upgrade of the skill itself but the option of opting for another skill instead of picking one.


    But even though it hadn¡¯t given him the second option, it had given him the first. Now he knew what his skills would be capable of.


    It¡¯s like Beta testing.


    Did it mean that as long as he was close to the next 10% mastery of his skill that he would be able to see what the skill would be capable of in the next upgrade as long as he entered a portal? Also, would he get a personal quest every time he entered a portal?


    Veebee had said he would be assigned something like a personal assistant eventually. The question was why? Would they be in charge of giving him quests?


    If the answer was yes, then was he sure he wanted Veebee?


    He read his personal quest once more. If Veebee¡¯s definition of easy was a fight against a demi-god, he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted such a person¡ªcreature?¡ªhovering over his shoulders and selecting his quests.


    But it did save me from Avram.


    Melmarc scratched his head. It was a tough decision to make. Choosing Veebee out of gratitude or refusing Veebee for the sake of his own safety.


    But how sure am I that whoever I choose will be nicer than Veebee?


    With a tired sigh and a wave of his hand, Melmarc dismissed all the notifications in front of him. It was time for him to focus on the task before him.


    And find Naymond.


    The Sage had been a Delver at some point in his life so it was only a given that Melmarc find him.


    All he knew about portals were theories, word of mouth, and conspiracies given to him by Delano.


    Melmarc pulled his phone out of his pocket and was glad to find it functioning. He wasn¡¯t really surprised by that. Television channels had contracts with Delving companies that allowed them send in filming crews of Gifted. It was usually just a camera man or two.


    And the complete footage collected was never released to the public, only snippets designed to pass across whatever message they wanted to send.


    Melmarc went to his dial pad and stopped. At the top corner of the screen his network smiled at him with zero bars.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s that,¡± Melmarc muttered to himself.


    Would¡¯ve been more surprised if it was that easy, he thought as he slipped his phone into his pocket and started walking.


    The first thing he noticed besides the meadows and the ruins far ahead of him was the red sun. It held his attention because while it was red and bright the world around him had the soft touch of a beautiful meadow on a gentle afternoon with the touch of a yellow sun¡¯s glow.


    It was too contrasting.


    It was also not what Melmarc was here for.


    With a steady breath, and a hope that the options for his alternative skills instead of an upgrade of his current skills would be more interesting, he started on his path into the meadow.


    ¡­


    With no exact destination and no time limit, Melmarc had no sense of urgency. He walked down the meadow, making his way towards the crumbled buildings.


    As much as he hated to admit it, he had a strong feeling that if he wasn¡¯t running into enemies, he wasn¡¯t getting anywhere. And he could see far enough to know that there were no enemies where he was.


    Which meant the enemies were within the ruins.


    The quest is called the ruins of Caldath, after all. Not the meadows of Caldath.


    Five minutes of walking didn¡¯t bring him anywhere closer to the ruins. Melmarc could feel the distance reducing but it was like walking down a hilly road, you knew you were covering ground, but the thought of walking uphill once more just made the journey seem longer than it was.


    Another thing he noticed was that while he walked down a clear meadow, it wasn¡¯t necessarily as plateaued as it seemed. To the side, somewhere in the distance, there were trees thick enough to create shades and canopies that made it look like a mini forest to be embarked upon.


    It was a possible path to take but Melmarc just couldn¡¯t bring himself to take it. Another portion of the meadow looked like a relaxing park with a small pond. From where he was, Melmarc couldn¡¯t tell if the pond was clean, but he also wasn¡¯t interested.


    The sooner he found the orb of Caldath, the sooner he could go home. It was a stupid thought but the sooner he could run into enemies, the sooner he could start believing he was on the right path.


    The problem, however, was what he would do when he found the enemies?


    He was a Faker. His skills were designed to allow him a chance at being stronger for every person he ran into.


    The quest had said something about the servants of the ruined city having been spared the problem of having their souls offered to the demi-god, but something told him that they weren¡¯t going to be on friendly terms.


    The quest did ask that he free them from damnation. So there was that.


    What exactly did the quest mean by damnation?


    Was it the damnation on a physical level? Like the damnation of living in a ruined city? Was he going to find himself running into skinny and starved inhabitants, lying helpless in empty rooms within a ruined building or the other?


    Was the damnation more on the side of something metaphysical; biblical? Was he going to run into grotesque shaped humans with spindly legs and inverted eyes? Corrupted simply because their souls were somehow damned and had poisoned their bodies?


    Who said they were going to be humans?


    Melmarc shivered at the thought. For all he knew, this could be a world of fairies or some kind of terrifying lycanthrope thingies.


    At least it¡¯s not a world of angels¡­


    Melmarc frowned at himself. That thought was uncalled for. There was nothing that suggested the inhabitants he would run into were not angels.


    And why was he suddenly thinking about angels as the bad guys? Everything he¡¯d learned in church said that they were the good guys. He was supposed to be happy at the idea that angels were possible candidates for what he would run into.


    Maybe because dad fought an angel?


    If Delvers were fighting angels inside a portal wasn¡¯t it safe to say that angels weren¡¯t the good guys? There was also the possibility that Delvers weren¡¯t necessarily the good guys.


    For example, his quest was already fishy. He was transported to a world that knew nothing about him and was asked to steal the world¡¯s orb. Yes, the quest details claimed that he would be saving lives, but what if that was a lie?


    All his life he¡¯d been told that the interface was a person¡¯s reflection of themselves and how they viewed the world. But wasn¡¯t that a loophole when you considered Portals?


    How did portals interpret themselves?


    Some people theorized that the quests that Delvers got when they entered a portal was also something they were capable of. Just the way their body interpreted itself through mana, their bodies interpreted the mana within the portal to grant them a quest on what they needed to do to survive.


    The going theory was that everything was based on the human evolution with mana to decipher what was necessary¡ªto interpret themselves and the world around them.


    ¡°What if it¡¯s all a lie?¡± Melmarc asked himself as the ruins finally pulled in close enough.


    In the last hour he had already learned too much about portals to be able to believe the very foundation of what he knew the interface to be.


    For one, he¡¯d never heard of anything like Veebee before. The only other form of life anyone knew about outside of whatever was met on the other side of the portal were the mana creatures often summoned to help complete portal quests.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    What about players?


    From what he knew, Players weren¡¯t common knowledge. Which meant one of two things, either his dad had known about players because he had been informed since their family was a casualty of players or his dad knew because his dad knew.


    If the latter was the case, then his dad wasn¡¯t just some government Delver. It meant he would be important, important enough to talk about information Naymond considered very necessary to be kept a secret as if it was nothing.


    He and Ark had questioned it a lot as children but even now they didn¡¯t know what specifically their parents were as Gifted. They knew nothing of their class or their rank.


    The best response they¡¯d ever gotten to the question was that the both of them were definitely above B-rank and the government never sent them to portals they couldn¡¯t handle. Melmarc and Ark had learned that they would never be getting more than that.


    The second thing Melmarc knew now was that the interfaces could not simply be the body¡¯s way of interpreting itself. Even if that was true, it was impossible to believe the human body also interpreted and deciphered the quests of the portals.


    Melmarc had practically seen Veebee doll out his personal quest. What he didn¡¯t know is if the creature had been looking for what quest to give him from a list of already available quests or if the thing had been creating a quest for him.


    All the unknowns were driving him nuts. Worse, he doubted anyone would have the answer.


    Can I even trust anything anyone¡¯s teaching?


    At this rate nobody in the real world would know what exactly was happening when it came to the portals. And those who knew were definitely keeping a lot of secrets.


    It was even the first time he was hearing anything about an August Intruder. Melmarc paused.


    Uncle Dorthna might know.


    Their uncle was practically their parent when it came to all things Gifted. Most of the questions their parents didn¡¯t answer or simply wouldn¡¯t answer, Dorthna gave them snippets of answers to.


    He¡¯d also been very much aware of world buffs and debuffs even though Melmarc had had no idea that such things existed.


    That answered that. When he got out of the portal, he would need to have a long talk with uncle Dorthna.


    ¡­if you get out of the portal.


    Melmarc slowed the pace of his already slow stroll as he approached the first ruin. It was a house made of bricks. There was a floor above but no roofing. The sunlight streamed into it from above and there was a massive hole in its side where there had once been a wall.


    Melmarc stepped cautiously into the building, keeping his eyes about him. He took his second step, completely into the premises. The ground was covered in grass and debris. Broken bricks and entire slabs filled the place. He saw no algae or moss. Nothing that suggested dirty and unkempt.


    Just overgrown grass and rubbles.


    He stopped venturing forward. Fear held him by the ankle and he just stood there, right at the entrance through the hole in the side of the building. The bricks were old and brown, unpainted. He didn¡¯t place his hand on anything for fear of creating a problem he didn¡¯t know existed.


    It¡¯s just a rundown building, he told himself. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s alright.


    Unfortunately, it took more than just words for a person to successfully lie to himself. It couldn¡¯t just be a rundown building. And there was no way he could be sure everything was alright.


    This is the reason there¡¯s a Delver training before you¡¯re allowed to enter portals.


    People who already made a living entering portals would come to teach people like him what to expect in a portal.


    All Melmarc knew about portals was second hand information. Information gotten from people who had likely gotten their information the same way he was getting his¡ªfrom people who got their information from secondary sources.


    This was why Delvers were trained before becoming Delvers. Here he was, standing at the edge of the building already terrified of the building itself, not even what could potentially be inside the building.


    You can do this, Mel, he pepped himself. Slow and steady. You can figure it out.


    He couldn¡¯t.


    Melmarc had an option but was terrified of using it. He could use [Knowledge is Power] to scout the building from where he was. But then what?


    What would he do if there was a problem, if there were enemies inside? If there were enemies [Knowledge is Power] would most definitely alert them of his very presence, and he didn¡¯t know how to fight.


    What was he going to do; knock them out with a shoulder throw? Punch their brains out? That was if they had brains.


    He took an involuntary step back before he even noticed what he was doing.


    Sure as hell wish you¡¯d taken [Fist of Thunder] when you had the chance, aren¡¯t you?


    Melmarc frowned at his thoughts. Now he was picking on himself for his own cowardice. But there was also something his own mind was failing to understand.


    Even if I don¡¯t have an attack skill, I can still run.


    It was a stupid thing to be proud of but everyone took their courage where they could find them, and he was going to take his from anywhere in this situation.


    [You have activated Knowledge Is Power.]


    As his mana burst out of him, Melmarc noticed two things. The first was that he had more than enough mana to spare. Before finding his way into the portal, he¡¯d practically been on his last leg, mana fatigue staring him in the eye like an annoying sibling.


    He watched the white static of his mana reach forward and deeper into the building and realized that the sensation of being heavier and grounded was not as strong as he remembered. He still felt grounded, but it was not as much.


    Movement wasn¡¯t impossible. He was more than certain that if he wanted to move he could move.


    Wait¡ª


    The effect of the skill was already coming back to him, already returning as information. It slammed into Melmarc at the same time that he realized that the skill had never told him that he couldn¡¯t move while it was in effect.


    It had only ever said that he could nether be damaged nor inflict damage. So while it was in effect, there was a higher chance that it wasn¡¯t about not being able to move but him not being able to cause actual damage to a person no matter what he did.


    Melmarc absorbed the information.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +1.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 32.]


    [You have received 1 Potential buff.]


    [Soul Damnation (Mastery 0.00%)


    The damned damns their own soul into further damnation through the damnation of their soul by offering their soul to Caldath.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:00.]


    Thirty-two life forms detected and only one potential buff. Melmarc took a step back. Did it mean that all of them had the exact same skill?


    And what was with the skill description? The word ¡®damn¡¯ was appearing way too many times. And why did whatever he was detecting only have the ability to damn itself?


    The questions were too many until Melmarc really paid attention to what he was seeing.


    He looked down as he asked himself one very important question.


    If there were only thirty-two life forms, why were they countless indicators around him.


    Melmarc looked down and for every green grass, there was an indicator with no names above them.


    They were all red.


    He took a terrified step back only to be drawn to attention by the sudden sound of grating. It was like someone was scraping a rusty iron along a brick wall.


    He gulped and took another quiet step back. On his third step, outside the ruined buiding and under the sunlight, the grating grew in number, drawing closer.


    He could run, but run where? Even the grass was his enemy. How exactly did you fight the grass?


    So rather than run, he hid behind the outside wall, hugged it. He found a hole in it and watched through it, keeping his eyes on what was causing the grating sound.


    Despite the indicators, he knew that the detected life forms were on one side of the building so he didn¡¯t have to worry about being attacked from the back. Unless they had some form of super speed that didn¡¯t interpret into being a skill.


    It did not take him long to see the cause of the grating sound. When he did, he covered his mouth with his hand, suffocated the terrified gasp that came out of him.


    He had been partially right.


    A hand came out of a corner and grabbed one of the crumbling brick walls within the building. It was a deep white that reminded Melmarc of bone, but it looked more like armor than bone, ridged were fingers had joints with the ends of the fingers finishing ito a fine tip like a claw.


    The creature came into view and he stared at the name above its red indicator.


    [Damned(C)].


    Its head was a skull with spikes protruding from around it. Twelve in all, if Melmarc could trust the information his skill had given him. The rest of its body looked mummified. Dead flesh, putrid and covered in gangrene hung tight to the creature.


    Melmarc could see the insects crawling about the thing. Despite all this, it moved with a very strained rigidy, like its limbs were branches that failed to allow it freedom and agility.


    Melmarc¡¯s legs trembled slightly.


    There was no way he was going to get into a fight with that thing. It was seven feet tall and looked like it could kill him with one swing of its arm. And if the blow didn¡¯t kill him then some kind of infection would.


    Another one came from a different corner of the building. It was identical save one chipped horn on its head. And there were thirty more of them hiding in the building.


    Melmarc wanted to run. He wanted to go as far as his legs could carry him. But he forced himself to stay and observe them. If Naymond wasn¡¯t already dealing with whatever these things were wherever he was, Melmarc would have to deal with them eventually.


    What happens if you can¡¯t run?


    As they slowly gathered, two leading to four leading to more, he continued to watch, quiet. His breathing slow.


    They looked like they were looking for something. They turned about in the room, fleshy eye balls in a skeletal eyesocket glitching around like a poorly greased machine joint.


    They moved through the room, their steps slow and jerky.


    That was a good thing.


    Slow movemet, Melmarc noted. As long as he didn¡¯t allow them surround him, running would always be an option.


    Another thing he noticed was that while each one had a fingered hand, with a claw-like design, their second arm varied. It was just like any arm, a little too long and a little too skinny. The difference existed were there was meant to be a hand.


    Each one had a different item on one arm. One had a sword as its second hand, another had just a shield.


    But most of them had hoes or shovel heads or sickles or matchetes.


    Farming implements.


    It was like they¡¯d somehow fused with these weapons.


    One of the creatures bumped into the wall and staggered. It turned against the wall and walked into it violently. The entire building shook from the impact and Melmarc winced.


    Powerful, he noted.


    One blow would definitely kill him. There would be no time for an infection to take place.


    The one that hit the building staggered again, and some of the bugs and critters crawling over it shook and fell off.


    Melmarc watched the slow rise of red indicators over the grass.


    He felt bile rise to his throat as he answered the question of why the grass had multiple red indicators. The second question was why the red indicators weren¡¯t moving.


    Afraid, he looked down at the grass beneath his feet where there was a red indicator and slowly raised his leg. He couldn¡¯t see anything. It remained there, unmoving.


    Maybe the critters burrowed into the ground. Just the way he could see indicators through the walls but couldn¡¯t actually see the walls, maybe that was what was happening to him right now. Maybe the bugs were far down into the ground.


    Which means they can crawl out at anytime.


    Old fear hits Melmarc like a battering ram. People feared animals in different ways. How you feared a lion was not the same way you feared a snake. It was not the same way you feared a scorpion.


    Old fear was the fear of knowing you could die at the hands of your opponent and no amount of fighting would give you a fighting chance.


    How did he fight bugs he couldn¡¯t attack until they attacked him? How did he fight things he didn¡¯t know anything about?


    He took a step away from the wall as the creatures continued their search. He could run. None of the monsters were fast enough. He just had to turn and run.


    But run where? To another building? Into the trees?


    To that giant castle at the back of the ruins that stretched all the way up to the red sun?


    His feet carried him back and away from the building, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to turn his back on it. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to turn his back on the monsters, no matter how slow they were.


    Melmarc was more than certain he would find the orb there. It was also very likely that he would find Caldath there as well.


    And a lot of these things too.


    Melmarc took another step away, increasing the distance between him and the building and heard a crunch.


    He froze, terrified to look at his feet.


    But terror wasn¡¯t done with him.


    The countless monsters inside the building turned, eyes focused in his direction. They staggered forward, motions jerky. They clashed into each other, struggling to get in the general direction of where he was.


    Melmarc watched their indicators clash as he tried to rush back. There was another crunching sound. This one was more on the squishy side of things. Melmarc prayed it wasn¡¯t what he thought it was.


    One of the red indicators beneath his feet vanished. Then another three scurried around, drawing closer.


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped.


    The indicators were gathering to his feet, rushing after him. He hopped back and away. Fear was playing his spine like a guitar and his legs were refusing to obey him properly. He raised his head, looked at the multitude of red indicators that were not hidden in the grass.


    They continued to bash against each other as Melmarc continued to stagger back. What was the point in the stat boosts if his legs weren¡¯t going to obey him?


    He slammed his fist into his leg.


    ¡°Move damn it,¡± he muttered, staring at the first creature to escape the buildings.


    Their eyes met and the creature moved forward. Its steps were still jerky, it¡¯s body bobbing awkwardly with every step as if it was too tall and there was a heavy wind trying to push it over.


    It was still slow, but it was considerably faster than when it had been in the building.


    Melmarc slammed another fist against his thigh. His leg was beginning to feel as if it had fallen asleep. ¡°For the love of¡ª¡±


    He looked down and panic consumed him whole. The number of red indicators gathered to his feet was countless. Worse, his boot was completely covered in the things that had fallen off the creature. Bugs and roaches and things that looked like centipedes and critters of different kinds.


    He pulled at the single leg, dragging himself away with his other leg. His leg obeyed but it was like a tug of war. Every step sent pin-pricks running up his leg.


    It had to be the bugs. They were somehow rendering his leg incapable of working properly. They were putting it to sleep.


    Was this how the monsters hunted. They were slow, but the creatures that fell from them rendered their prey slower.


    No.


    Melmarc refused to go out like this. He still had his stat boost. Maybe another blast would give him enough boost for the sleeping leg to move at a normal pace.


    He reached inside him for the skill and was met with a very terrible notification.


    [You cannot use Knowledge Is Power at this time.]


    [Cool down: 00:00:39.]


    Thirty seconds more. Why did the skill need to have a cool down?


    He dragged himself more, suddenly hating himself for having delayed so long ago. At this point, he wouldn¡¯t be so stubborn.


    Trauma be damned. He was beginning to realize how childish he had been not too long ago when he¡¯d given up all his chances to pick [Rings of Saturn] simply because of who had owned it.


    At this point he would pick anything. Even the damned skill.


    [You cannot use Knowledge Is Power at this time.]


    [Cool down: 00:00:32.]


    Melmarc looked at the monsters. There was a good distance between him and them. They would need at least two minutes to get to him at their current pace. He just had to struggle and wait for the [Knowledge is Power] then he would be out of here.


    As long as these damned things stick to one leg.


    He would be done the moment they got to his second leg. His only saving grace was the fact that the indicators were no longer moving. The ones that had gotten to his single leg just stayed there, struggling with him for control.


    He pulled and tugged. At some point he even dragged himself along the ground. It increased his pace, moved him as fast as he could. It was good enough, a walking pace. But he was looking for a jogging pace.


    Melmarc counted with his mind, and when his mental clock hit thirty-eight seconds, six more to factor in panic that probably made him count too fast as if it would somehow make the seconds thick faster, he reached for the skill and it obeyed.


    [You have activated Knowledge Is Power.]


    The buff roared out of him. It passed through the bugs rendering his leg useless and for a moment his leg was totally useful. He took the moment to struggle out of their hold.


    Relief flooded him as his leg left the ground. The bugs snapped from the ground like a broken twig but there were still more attached to his shoe and crawling up the leg of his pants.


    It didn¡¯t matter, he had his leg back, even if for a moment as his interface flashed once more.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect].


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    The notification spammed across his view, confirming that the bugs were doing something to his feet. Melmarc had a new fear as he struggled with his body, pulling faster away.


    The moment his burst of mana passed through the other creatures on their way back, every one of them stiffened.


    Their next action, even before the burst of information came to Melmarc, was uncalled for.


    The farthest one in the back, already outside the building, leaped into the air. It went over all the ones in front of it. It went over eight feet high. Then it darted ten feet forward arms swinging in deathly blows. With the shovel head attached to its hand, it cut deadly slashes in the air.


    It hit the ground and jumped again, shovel arm ever slashing. This time it covered two feet before it hit the ground. All the others did the same as the burst of mana went through them.


    In the blink of an eye, they were already on Melmarc.


    Melmarc put all that was in him and pushed, he dragged himself as the burst of mana finally returned to him.


    He ignored every single piece of information it gave him that did not come with an instruction of how to outrun creatures that could clear twelve feet in less than two seconds.


    With the heaviness of his body gone, Melmarc turned and ran as a new notification popped up.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Base mastery is at 10%]


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 10.03%)(12.03%)].


    [Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?]


    [Please know that you can renege on this decision.]


    That last piece of information was good. It meant he had the chance to view the alternative skills without worry.


    Acquire new skill, he replied as he ran. The damned behind him swishing through the air with rapid cuts and closing the distance very quickly while Melmarc could his foot with the bugs attached the it slowly growing numb again.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Melmarc turned and made is way for the trees. He had no idea what would be hidden within them but if he could dash out from the side just a moment after entering their shade, maybe he could buy himself sometime while the damned were cutting their way through the trees.


    The alternative skill pulled up in front of Melmarc and his face fell.


    It brought a whole new meaning to ¡®be careful what you wish for.¡¯


    Only one skill stared at him as he ran.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.

 FORTY-SEVEN: Rings of Saturn

    Melmarc stared at the notification in front of him as he ran.


    During the duration of the effect of [Knowledge is Power] a good number of the bugs had fallen from his leg. They were enough that he could now count the ones that remained as the pin-pricks started again with each step. But he did not.


    He¡¯d told himself he would pick [Rings of Saturn] because he¡¯d realized how badly he needed an offensive skill, and he¡¯d gotten [Rings of Saturn] as an alternate skill for his skill upgrade.


    Just my luck.


    The fact that he was still staring at it as he ran towards the trees said a lot about him. And the little he picked from it was that things were easier said than done.


    Even now, in a precarious situation where he needed an attack skill, he was hesitating. An attack skill was staring straight at him, daring him to follow through on his declaration, and he was not.


    His mind kept going to that single night. It was stupid, Ark was the one with the post traumatic stress disorder. The therapist that had attended to them had given him a clean bill of health. According to him, Melmarc¡¯s only problem from the attack was the physical aspect of it. The scar.


    So it made no sense. Was it some kind of mana effect?


    For some reason that made zero sense. He¡¯d never heard of a mana styled PTSD. How was it even going to work? Your mana shorted out when you had the experience?


    Whatever it was, he couldn¡¯t select the skill right now even if he wanted to.


    The leg under attack from the bugs stepped on the ground and the pin-pricks doubled. Melmarc shook it on reflex. His hope was to shake off a few of the bugs. He had no luck there.


    Behind him the [Damned] had slowed down. They¡¯d ceased their chaotic jumping and speedy attacks. The distance between him and them was slowly rising again. It wasn¡¯t rising as quickly as Melmarc would¡¯ve liked, but it was rising. And he would take all the good he could get.


    Including Rings of Saturn?


    Melmarc had no answer to that question.


    Gauging the distance between him and the trees, he had at least five minutes before he reached them. He was running at a speed faster than what he was capable of before he became Gifted, but it wasn¡¯t enough.


    He looked down at his leg, wondered if simple physical violence would suffice to rid him of the bugs. He¡¯d crushed them not too long ago when he¡¯d stepped on them, he was sure of that. But there was always the chance that crushing them had been possible because whatever they were doing to him had not been activated yet.


    You could give it a try now, he told himself. There¡¯s no harm in trying.


    Melmarc moved his hand to smack them away and paused.


    No harm in trying.


    But there was. There was at least the possibility of harm in trying.


    What happened if he smacked them, and rather than displacing them or killing them, they just attached themselves to his arm and continued whatever they were doing to his leg to his arm.


    Another worry was at the fact that it wasn¡¯t a skill. And Melmarc didn¡¯t even know if it was even something normal. [Knowledge is Power] hadn¡¯t detected any skill from them and it counted something as simple as taking videos with a phone as a skill.


    He kept on running, the trees growing ever closer.


    What if it¡¯s something else?


    [Knowledge is Power] hadn¡¯t even detected them as living things. Countless as they were and as close as they were, it hadn¡¯t detected them. The knowledge scared Melmarc more as he realized something new.


    He hadn¡¯t even known what they were until he had watched them fall from the [Damned]. What did that say? Was there a problem with his skill or was there something significantly wrong with the creatures?


    He slowed down as he approached the trees. Running into them would not help him in any way if the [Damned] were not close to him. The purpose of the trees was so that he could lose them in it.


    Entering without the creatures behind him was just going into danger. It would be a risk without a reward.


    As he slowed down, his mind also slowed down. His frantic thoughts took a back seat to something calmer, less erratic.


    The first thing he noticed was that the only red indicators around him were the ones on his leg. The second thing he noticed was that none of them had made their way to his second leg in all his running.


    He tried to remember if he had been running at a normal pace or dragging his leg behind him. The answer came a moment too slow for his liking. He¡¯d been running at a normal pace when [Knowledge is Power] was in effect, but had dwindled back to dragging his leg when it had ceased.


    And I was still faster than before I became a Gifted.


    Just how much boost was the skill giving him?


    Melmarc was practically strolling now, keeping an eye on the [Damned]. Their eyes never left him. They continued to follow at a steady pace. Jerky but undeterred.


    I could just run, he thought.


    But where?


    There was nothing but trees, meadows, some kind of park and the ruins. Everywhere was a possible problem. He could take a roundabout path back to the ruins, lead the [Damned] far enough that they would be too far from the ruins by the time he returned to it.


    He looked down at his leg and realized he was misplacing his priorities. The [Damned] were not a real problem right now, these things were. These things his skill could not identify that were harming him in a way he did not know. Getting rid of them was the priority.


    ¡°But how?¡± he muttered.


    Smacking them aside might put him in bigger trouble than he was already in. He¡¯d tried shaking his leg and that did nothing at all. Maybe he could¡ª


    It¡¯s good to think a lot, words Ark had once said to him slithered into his mind. You¡¯ve got the brains for it so you should. But sometimes¡­


    He still remembered how Ark had been standing on top of the school fence. Why he¡¯d climbed it to begin with was something Melmarc never learned. According to Ark it was supposed to be a lesson but he forgot. The second lesson, however, he remembered.


    Sometimes you just have to quiet the thoughts¡­


    Melmarc looked down at his legs. ¡°¡­ And act.¡±


    He slammed his hand into his leg, beating down on the critters frantically. He really hoped he wasn¡¯t making a stupid decision as he struck at it and shook his pants leg violently.


    Melmarc stopped after a while and looked at the outcome of his actions. There was good and bad.


    The good news was that some of the critters had actually released his pants leg. The bad was that the ones that were not on his leg were now on his hand.


    Shit, he groaned. Thanks a lot, Ark.


    Funny enough, he could imagine Ark laughing at him in response. His brother would probably be saying something about how he should¡¯ve used his big brain to figure out when to listen and just act and when not to.


    There was another good news, though. While the slow sensation of pin-pricks was beginning to travel up his arm, the one on his leg was slowly reducing. It wasn¡¯t as strong anymore. What made it a major good news was that he needed his legs once more.


    Behind him the [Damned] had resumed their jumping death dance.


    They know when I¡¯m getting away?


    Melmarc turned and ran into the trees.


    ¡­


    Melmarc was barely three trees into the collage of trees when one of the [Damned] darted into the confines. It had a sickle for a hand. Before it could swing the sickle, its leap rammed it into a tree. The impact turned the thing askew and it fell to the ground.


    To Melmarc¡¯s surprise, falling didn¡¯t stop it. In fact, right there, lying on the ground, its legs twisted up as if it was still in a jumping motion, then its body started twitching frantically.


    Its sickle hand flashed about, sweeping around it. It cut through blades of grass and drew clean lines in the ground. The action was chaotic and dust rose slowly.


    Melmarc hid himself behind a tree as the creature thrashed about. It was odd to watch. It was as if the creature was not even aware of the fact that it was no longer air borne. Another thing Melmarc noticed was just how sharp the sickle was. Either that, or every swing of its arm was vastly more powerful than Melmarc had thought in the beginning.


    There was no point where it jerked, maybe hindered by how sturdy the ground was.


    The other creatures leapt over it as they swarmed the forest.


    Melmarc counted the red indicators as they entered. Their entry was chaotic, sweeps and blows, jumps and twirls. Some smacked into the trees and fell like their companions while others simply swept through the entire distance, avoiding all the trees without even trying.


    Two bumped into each other, fell and simply stopped moving.


    Melmarc held on to all the pieces of information as he waited behind the tree, watching. Ones they were all within the canopy of trees, he would make his exit out the side. But he knew now that he couldn¡¯t lose them. At least not without getting rid of the bugs.


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    The moment he watched the last red indicator dash inside, Melmarc turned and ran to the side. He¡¯d kept his wits about him, paid attention to the fastest route out.


    [Knowledge is Power] would¡¯ve told him exactly what was where in case there were also threats amongst the trees but he couldn¡¯t risk using it yet. For all he knew, if there were threats, the skill would draw their attention to him.


    And even if it didn¡¯t, it would draw the attention of the [Damned] to him.


    Melmarc frowned as he fled, the light of the world beyond the trees not too far from him.


    I thought delving was about fighting and killing and coming back home.


    He burst out of the trees, one hand and one foot stained with the same critters. But there was a new problem, their indicators were growing dim, fizzling out.


    He wondered if it was a new aspect of [Knowledge is Power]. Maybe now that he¡¯d hit level ten, the skill had added a new function.


    No.


    He couldn¡¯t agree with that. Skills were understandable as mastery increased, but they did not get necessarily better until they were upgraded.


    Maybe what he was experiencing was simply something he hadn¡¯t paid attention to before. Maybe as the timer for the skill slowly elapsed, the indicators slowly dimmed into nonexistence.


    Wouldn¡¯t I have noticed that by now?


    As reasonable as his own question was, he had a feeling he wouldn¡¯t have. After all, he hadn¡¯t noticed that he always knew all the buffs he got until Naymond pointed them out.


    So much for big brains.


    As he ran, increasing the distance between himself and the trees, he watched the dwindling red indicators continue to clash carelessly amongst the trees.


    Watching them gave him an answer to one of his questions. Delving was about killing, fighting and going home. He was just the fool who had refused to accept an active attack skill.


    He would¡¯ve been more useful if he had a team, but he didn¡¯t.


    Delano was right. Fakers are useless without a team.


    Melmarc kept his feet moving as fast as he could for as long as he could. After a few minutes of running without fatigue, [Knowledge is Power] finally gave out on him. He knew the moment it happened, his body was abruptly heavier, his speed dropped to human speed as well. He almost stumbled from the sudden shift in¡­ everything but caught himself at the last minute.


    When he did, he pushed himself into a steady jog.


    Why did everything just¡­ stop? Melmarc wondered.


    It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration. Everything had quite literally changed. It wasn¡¯t just the speed. His lungs, he realized, were suddenly taking in less air than usual. He realized the air wasn¡¯t so strong against his skin. It took another moment for him to realize something.


    I can¡¯t tell the direction of the wind.


    That didn¡¯t make sense. He¡¯d known the direction of the wind but hadn¡¯t even been aware of it until now. He hadn¡¯t even been paying it any attention. But now that his skill had timed out, he was aware of all the things he had taken for granted. Like how he hadn¡¯t gotten tired after running for so long.


    Melmarc knew his stats, and even though [Knowledge is Power] gave him a stat boost, he didn¡¯t have any stat he was aware of that increased things like lung capacity and the level of awareness he was discovering he¡¯d gotten.


    No, there was something for the awareness. That was [Perception].


    It grated him how much he didn¡¯t know of his own skills as he made a decision to head for the ruins. Naymond had been a Delver once and Veebee had said he¡¯d also entered the portal.


    As a former Delver, he was sure Naymond would¡¯ve also figured out that the answer to closing the portal and completing the quest would be towards the high and domineering castle all the way at the end of the horizon.


    Melmarc spent a few more minutes going from a jog to a walk. Each time he checked behind him, made sure the [Damned] were not following him.


    Whatever the critters were doing to him that was leaving him with a pin-prick sensation was at least not killing him¡­ he hoped.


    For now, he wasn¡¯t feeling anything. He wasn¡¯t getting tired faster than normal and he wasn¡¯t feeling nauseous in any way. Whatever the critters were, it seemed all their purpose was directed towards was slowing down the prey or target.


    Melmarc felt more like a prey than a target.


    Even when he knew the [Damned] were somewhere in the distance too far from him to be harmful, he still felt like he was being hunted.


    I don¡¯t like feeling like prey.


    Not for the first time, Melmarc thought of what had led him here and was angry. Naymond and Alfa had sent him on a mission he shouldn¡¯t have been going on and now here he was.


    It had been entirely irresponsible of them. He was just a child, sixteen was an interesting age but it still remained the age of a child. How had they thought this was going to pan out?


    Still better than a bullet to the head.


    Melmarc knew his words were supposed to console him but they did not. Without [Knowledge is Power] it would have ended up as a bullet to the head.


    The thought sobered him terribly as he drew closer to a small ruin. It looked like a small room. Maybe a shop or something. There were no pillars inside, no hidden rooms or double floors. It was just a simple roofless, four cornered building with broken bricks and crumbling walls.


    The room was too small for his liking. Anything could spot him and come for him too easily and too quickly. What he wanted was a room that was a little larger with enough obstacles that an attack from one of the [Damned] stood the chance of being stopped by a random pillar or something.


    More importantly, now that the chaos was dwindling down, everything was dawning on Melmarc.


    He had really almost died.


    Avram had shot at him at point blank range. No one survived a gunshot wound of that level. His leg trembled under him and he knew it had nothing to do with the critters.


    And what would¡¯ve happened if he had died?


    Would the police department have simply drafted an apology letter and handed them over to his parents?


    And what would his parents have done? Ark would¡¯ve definitely been a mess. Melmarc could count on Ark to cause problems. If not now, then in the future. With a class as terrifyingly named as [Demon Lord] and a literal demon by his side arguably as powerful as Dragon-knight¡¯s dragon, he couldn¡¯t see it going any other way.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know when he stopped walking.


    What of Ninra, and his parents? What of uncle Dorthna?


    What of Delano and Eroms?


    They were his only friends, and he was theirs. They would be devastated. Delano would flood the dark web with all the conspiracy theories he could think of.


    But Melmarc wouldn¡¯t know. Because he¡¯d be dead.


    And what would they say killed him? What would¡¯ve been so grand that he was sacrificing himself?


    To deliver half a brain, Melmarc thought absently.


    A small tear ran down his right eye and he almost cleaned it with his critter-stained hand. He stopped himself on time.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what he was crying for. Was it from almost dying or for the people that would be left behind to deal with his death?


    He wiped his tear with his free hand, unsure.


    One thing he was sure of in all the sadness and reality, was that he was angry at Alfa and Naymond.


    They were the reason he was in this mess, alone and helpless, capable of nothing but running.


    Melmarc let out a sigh. Who was he kidding, he was angry with himself, too.


    Ultimately, despite everything they¡¯d said, he might not have said yes or no, but he didn¡¯t fight the decision. He had taken the decoy phone and made his way into the same car as the conniving sonofa¡ª


    Melmarc paused.


    That had come out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere, but he never remembered ever being this vindictive about a person. Not even the few bullies he¡¯d experienced growing up had made him this angry.


    Well none of them gave you a sob story about trying to be better before selling you out to a guy with a gun that deals in human brains.


    Melmarc made a promise to himself as he resumed walking. If he ever got out of the portal, surviving being chased by farm implement wielding monsters, he would find every way in his power to make David Swan pay.


    It was even more annoying to know that the bastard shared the same name with his dad.


    And if the police refused to help, Alfa and Naymond included, then he would know that they were terrible people, through and true. It didn¡¯t matter what excuses they would give.


    But even if they did, then he would be the vindictive child. He would talk to his parents. They were government Delvers and they had gone on a very large number of missions. They also knew a Delver with the ability to recreate their house just the way it had been before it had been destroyed.


    Certainly they would know someone or someone that knew someone that was connected enough to track down David Swan, right?


    Even low ranking non-Gifted government workers knew someone. And uncle Dorthna had said they somehow knew Dragon-Knight so that had to be something. Unimportant people didn¡¯t just know Dragon-knight.


    Melmarc didn''t like what Naymond, Alfa and David were doing to him. He knew there were people in the world that couldn''t be trusted, but this was different.


    At this rate he was going to distrust people on default.


    He didn''t want to be that kind of person. He wanted to be a realist not a pessimist.


    As Melmarc walked, checking around him for any sign of the [Damned], new worries filled his head. He¡¯d gotten his class, registered his class, and started his mentee program. And none of his parents had been around for it.


    I really hope they are alright.


    It was almost an hour later when Melmarc found a convenient place. He¡¯d gone through three ruined buildings, used [Knowledge is Power] three times and was already having a slow growing headache and had failed to get rid of the critters.


    One of the buildings had [Damned] in them and Melmarc was more than careful to avoid the red indicators that filled the ground when he saw them. There was nothing he needed to study about them so the first thing he¡¯d done once he¡¯d learned of their presence was run.


    He¡¯d tried getting rid of the critters during one of his uses of [Knowledge is Power] and, unfortunately, there were disadvantages to being unable to damage or be damaged.


    His only reprieve was in the fact that the creature simply clung to him and didn¡¯t move.


    It was night when he finally found a building that met his criteria. When he did, he crawled into a small corner where two walls met and put his back to it. The building had a mess work of rubbles around it that would hinder movement a lot so that would slow down anything that had the disadvantage of coming in. So far it seemed the ruins only had the [Damned] for monsters, and from what he¡¯d learned of them, they weren¡¯t intelligent enough to sneak up on him.


    In a building like this, he would hear them from a mile away, figuratively speaking.


    His eyes were heavy as he settled into his small corner. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was because it was actually night time and his body was responding to his normal sleep cycle or if it was just the effect of it being night in the portal.


    Melmarc spent another paranoid hour trying to keep himself awake, failing horribly. In the end, he came to the conclusion that sleep was inevitable.


    It didn¡¯t matter what he did, he would eventually sleep off. The least he could do was sleep intentionally. There would be too much panic from suddenly coming awake after sleeping without knowing when.


    But there was one last thing he needed to do before falling asleep.


    Melmarc called up his interface.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around they¡¯re body and can attack with it.


    As much as he would¡¯ve loved to think about it, there was nothing to think about. He¡¯d been offered the skill once before and he¡¯d been stubborn about it. Now, he didn¡¯t really have a choice.


    It was funny when he thought about it. Now that he knew for certain that the interface wasn¡¯t just a personal thing and that it was far beyond just him and the Gifted, it felt as if the world was trying to push the skill on him.


    It had given him a choice once before, giving him options, and he had refused it. Now it was giving it to him without a choice.


    Well¡­ It was giving him a choice, but it wasn¡¯t really worth calling a choice. It was like being thrown onto a battlefield and being given the options of a gun or a blanket.


    You could choose the blanket but¡­


    It was hard to imagine anyone choosing the blanket.


    Melmarc sighed. Some things, it turned out, were inevitable.


    He positioned himself to sleep, made certain that his critter-stained limbs were on the same side. Luckily, they were. Left hand and left leg.


    He would probably move around in his sleep and stain his whole body, but that wasn¡¯t enough reason to not be cautious.


    When he was done, he attended to what he wished he hadn¡¯t needed to attend to.


    [Would you like to choose Rings of Saturn? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like this one bit. Couldn¡¯t you have offered me Fist of Thunder again, instead?


    True to form, he got no answer.


    Yes.


    Rings of Saturn (Mastery 02.00%)


    While skill is in effect you cannot use any other skill.


    Conclusion of skill will release lock on other skills.


    Four blasts before every cooldown will be available.


    +10% damage increase for consecutive successful hits.


    Skill perks:


    Strength +3 Dexterity +3 Mana +4 Agility +2 Balance +1 Accuracy +3


    ¡­


    [You have selected skill Rings of Saturn. This has been permanently added to your skill list.]


    Stat increase detected.


    Agility +2->4 Balance +1->6 Mental +3 Mana +1->5.


    ¡­


    Stats


    Agility +4 Balance +6 Mental +3 Mana +5 Strength +3 Dexterity +3 Accuracy +3


    Melmarc looked at his stats with groggy eyes and a small smile touched his lips. They were beginning to look like the stats of a Delver and not the simple [Faker] that he was.


    That night, he slept uncomfortably.

 FORTY-EIGHT: Hula Hooping Delver

    Melmarc woke up with a start.


    His mind came alive in a brush of chaos. His bed was too hard. His leg refused to move. His mom still wasn¡¯t back from her last portal deployment. His dad, too.


    Panic rose in him with the confusion, followed by terror.


    And moving was extremely difficult. He breathed hard and he breathed fast. There was nothing wrong with his breathing. But it was the one thing he had real control over so he made the action as manual and violent as he could.


    It gave him an odd sense of control. It was something he could do and he had full mastery over it.


    It took him a few breaths before he calmed down. When he was calm, the panic ebbed away as his mind slowly recalled everything.


    He¡¯d almost lost himself in that little moment between waking up and coming fully awake when you were still a little too groggy and your brain was having a difficult time putting things together.


    Everything came into focus slowly. The portal. The [Damned]. The bugs and critters his skill couldn¡¯t identify. The long hours spent walking and looking for a suitable ruined building to hide in.


    As the memories came to him in order, Melmarc¡¯s panic subsided until he was reasonably calm. It was a strange feeling to be calmed by an awareness of the shitty situation he was in.


    It¡¯s the knowing, he told himself, still lying down on the hard grassy floor. I hate not knowing.


    Now that he had that figured out, he only had to deal with his inability to move.


    I really hope it¡¯s sleep paralysis.


    He¡¯d had a mild version of it a few times, waking up and being unable to move. Maybe three times in his entire life.


    In some places, according to what he¡¯d heard from Delano, there were people who called it sleep demons. Apparently, they believed it happened because while you were asleep an invisible sleep demon made its way to your body and ended up sleeping on top of you.


    They were extremely heavy and were the reason you couldn¡¯t move.


    While there were a lot of holes in the entire concept, Melmarc wondered if the entire thing was born from some kind of actual truth. Maybe some kind of skill effect or mana fatigue experience during sleep or even a portal monster.


    For him, however, he stuck with the answer he knew. When you slept, your brain released some kind of hormone that induced paralysis. From what his dad had told him as a child when he complained about why his body would not want him to move, it was so that he did not end up doing what he wasn¡¯t supposed to do while he was asleep.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to run and jump off a tall building in your sleep and wake up in Ted¡¯s house, do you?¡± his father had asked.


    Melmarc had not wanted to.


    Sometimes the hormone lasted a little longer even after waking up. Melmarc could give it sometime, allow it wear out on his own, but there were some things he was stubborn about. Control over his body was one of them.


    Since he could breathe, he breathed hard again. It was hard enough to force his chest to rise and fall, to push his chest muscles up and down. It was an old trick. As a child he told himself that it forced his body to move, wearing off the paralysis and reminding it that it was time to move.


    He never really knew if it worked. What he knew, however, was that in a matter of moments he was always capable of movement. Today would be no different.


    As long as the bugs aren¡¯t the reason I can¡¯t move.


    Luckily for him, they were not.


    When he was up, he forced himself to a sitting position. He¡¯d just been in the worst place to experience sleep paralysis but refused to dwell on that little bit of information. He needed to get out of this place and get back home.


    For that, he needed to get to the tall ruined building that touched the red sun and steal an orb.


    And kill a demi-god.


    He still couldn¡¯t believe the Void-beast Designation 1¡­12¡­ 24¡­


    Shit.


    ¡­


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d woken up late or if the portal didn¡¯t understand the concept of first light. From the moment he opened his eyes, it was as bright as any afternoon.


    He peeked out of the ruined building he was in, checked for any type of monster before stepping out. He was glad to find himself alone.


    As he strolled down the meadow, keeping his eyes on the growing number of ruined houses around him, he tried something literally new.


    Melmarc closed his eyes to focus before opening them back. That had been a stupid move, what was he going to do if a monster snuck up on him while he was focusing.


    Why do people even close their eyes when they want to focus? He wondered. It¡¯s not like closing my eyes makes me see inside myself.


    Melmarc paused. As a Gifted what were the chances that it wouldn¡¯t. For all he knew it could help him with his skills. There were Gifted that were known to meditate a lot. The [Seer] class was known to be obsessed with meditations.


    Delano said they only did it to keep some mysticism about themselves the way mediums did a lot of eye closing. Delano was a conspiracy theorist who hated the idea of the occult so Melmarc figured it was probably his bias talking.


    Still, he looked around. The distance from each ruined building to him was significantly much. It would take at least three minutes at a full sprint to reach him. And it wasn¡¯t like he was going to be closing his eyes for that long.


    After a thoughtful moment, he reached a decision.


    Best not to try anything stupid.


    He could try the meditation thing when he got back home. Instead, he focused on the new. Inside the portal, he noticed it oddly.


    He could feel [Rings of Saturn]. With [Knowledge is Power] he hadn¡¯t necessarily felt it, it had been more like he¡¯d just known it was there, like someone always told him it was there so he knew. You knew you had lungs because you were told you had lungs.


    If I wasn¡¯t told I had lungs what would I think helped me breathe? He asked himself as he approached a ruin.


    He almost walked past it simply because he wasn¡¯t ready to have to deal with the [Damned] when he remembered that he was also looking for Naymond.


    As for his question, an answer came as a question.


    My nose?


    It was reasonable, right? It wasn¡¯t like he could feel his lungs the way he could feel his heart beat through his chest. And even though he¡¯d been told he had lungs, he¡¯d never felt his own lungs.


    He¡¯d never felt [Knowledge is Power] or [Bless your kindness].


    But I¡¯m feeling [Rings of Saturn].


    He gave it a little focus as he peered gently into the ruined building. It was massive, and he snuck inside. He made his slow way around it, constantly praying not to run into any [Damned].


    The entire ordeal took less than five minutes and he walking out of the ruin faster than he¡¯d walked in. There was no Naymond and there was only one [Damned] sitting on a windowsill or what was supposed to be one. It looked like someone thinking about their life.


    As Melmarc strolled on to the next building, he gave his focus to the feeling of [Rings of Saturn].


    It was like a heartbeat. It was alive.


    No.


    Alive wasn¡¯t the right word. It was something, though. Something that could be mistaken for alive. It was¡­


    Animated.


    Yes. That was a more fitting word. Just the way you could feel your heart beat, and if you were quiet enough, you could convince yourself that you were hearing it. The skill felt the same.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised that alive was the word that had come to mind. It was inside him and it was moving somehow, not moving around, but just¡­ moving.


    It was an odd feeling, if he was being honest, to know that something was just alive as your heart inside you somewhere that wasn¡¯t your heart.


    Then he thought of using it just the way he thought of using [Knowledge is Power]. To his terror, nothing happened.


    He froze.


    Well, don¡¯t panic, he told himself. This is exactly why you¡¯re trying it when there¡¯s no danger. So that you know how to use it when there¡¯s danger.


    Despite his own words, he panicked slightly. Everything he knew about skills said that all a Gifted had to do to use them was think about using them.


    So what gives?


    The world had quite literally forced the skill on him, and now that he had it, it wasn¡¯t going to allow him use it? That was bullshit.


    This is bullshit.


    Melmarc kicked the ground in mild annoyance. He stopped himself on the second kicking attempt.


    Behave yourself, he chided. You¡¯re not a child.


    Even if he was, he was in no position to be acting like a child. Melmarc frowned as he resumed his walk. As much as he was in a hurry to find Naymond, he really wasn¡¯t in a hurry to clear the portal.


    If he was being honest with himself, and now he was, the reason he was being so cautious wasn¡¯t about being cautious.


    Maybe I¡¯m not cut out to be a Delver.


    Delvers were relatively powerful and adventurous, capable of a lot of things. Melmarc liked to call it caution but the truth was that he didn¡¯t think he was being cautious.


    Maybe he was simply just a scared boy rationalizing his actions of fear as caution.


    Here he was, taking his time to look for Naymond. If he really wanted to find the Sage, he knew how to do it quickly. He just needed to run from ruin to ruin¡ªas much as the bugs still attached to him allowed¡ªand spam [Knowledge is Power] in each building.


    It minimized a five minutes¡¯ search to a few seconds.


    And what if he drew the attention of the [Damned]? Well the [Damned] were everywhere. It was a literal portal, facing monsters was a given.


    The truth was that he was stalling. At some point actual professional Delvers would enter the portal and do the actual work. They were equipped for it, trained.


    Melmarc lacked the adventurous part of Delving that made a Delver.


    He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He did it again, then did it once more.


    ¡°Are you done?¡± he asked himself.


    He waited, allowed his mind wallow a little longer. When no more depressing thoughts came, he nodded.


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    ¡°I guess I¡¯m done for now.¡±


    Then he moved on.


    When he got to the next ruin, he stood at the entrance where there should¡¯ve once been a wall. The building walls were a charred black, like someone had actually tried to burn it down. He took preparing breaths, heavy and ready.


    Then he turned his back on the building, aimed himself in the direction of the nearest ruin, and activated [Knowledge is Power].


    The moment it returned to him, he found out Naymond was not inside and there were three [Damned]. He walked away briskly, never looking back.


    He used his skills sparingly, and significant time passed as he drew closer to the main building. Hours had gone by and he was mentally fatigued. The boredom tagged with the constant fear of a sudden slip up and one near miss with a company of [Damned], everything was beginning to get to him.


    Another thing he learnt from his encounter with the [Damned] this time was that they treated him as if they couldn¡¯t see him. It was possible that despite their eyes, they couldn¡¯t see.


    No, that¡¯s incorrect. Melmarc shook his head, remembering the slimy feeling he¡¯d gotten when he¡¯d locked eyes with one of them over the distance.


    It was more like they could see, but they didn¡¯t recognize him as an enemy. Maybe they didn¡¯t recognize things as enemies.


    But the first batch he¡¯d met had definitely thought of him as an enemy. They¡¯d gone the extra mile of chasing him all the way to the trees.


    Why?


    Melmarc raised his arm, held it up in front of him. The answer stared right back at him. six critters stared right back at him. Figuratively speaking.


    Melmarc could just imagine his bladder giving out if he lifted his hand and found the bugs literally staring at him.


    ¡°So they identify whatever these things attach themselves to as enemies,¡± he mused.


    But the ones he¡¯d met today hadn¡¯t attacked him even with the critters still on him. Did the [Damned] and the critters work in individual groups?


    Melmarc remembered seeing the bugs fall off the [Damned] before disappearing into the ground on his first day. Maybe that was it, maybe each group of [Damned] had their own bugs that they were connected to somehow.


    He looked behind him out of habit as a thought came to him. Just how far was the range of the connection? And how did it work?


    Was the first group of [Damned] still looking for him?


    With a lacking motivation to keep moving, Melmarc remained seated on the ground. There was a wide space of empty meadow around him that would make it impossible for him to be snuck up on.


    Rather than run his mind ragged doing one task, he moved his mind back to one he had abandoned in annoyance earlier today.


    He took slow deep breaths and listened. In a matter of moments, he could hear the beating of his heart and with it came the awareness of [Rings of Saturn]. It was there, animated, present. He tried to reach out to it and it felt like learning a new trick.


    Melmarc thought of activating the skill but nothing happened, it didn¡¯t budge. He was beginning to wonder if what was going on was because of the nature of the skill granted from contaminated mana.


    He really hoped it was, because his second possible reason would because of the only other thing that was different about him between now and when he had his other skills: his designation as an [August Intruder].


    His interface had called it an Existential buff and he had questions. He¡¯d always had questions. Like what specifically was an existential buff? Why did his interface consider him as a sapient being when it had once considered him a sentient one? What did Veebee do to him exactly that changed his world buffs and debuff?


    Lastly, what did that mean for him now?


    If the issue he was having with the skill was because of his new state, then it meant he would have to be going through this entire mess for every skill he learnt.


    It sounded like a headache. Melmarc shook his head.


    You can¡¯t dwell on the negative when there¡¯s a positive.


    Thought it was difficult to see a positive right now.


    Well, you¡¯re alive so that¡¯s something.


    ¡°And I can do magic,¡± he muttered. ¡°That¡¯s another thing.¡±


    Those were two things. He was alive, and he was quite practically living two parts of his dream.


    He was a Gifted, which was everyone¡¯s dream. And he was inside a portal, even though it was under completely different circumstances from what he wanted.


    Too much introspection and not enough skill training.


    He channeled his attention back to the vague sense of existence he was getting from [Rings of Saturn]. If he could feel it, he could use it. But he couldn¡¯t use it, could he?


    What if there¡¯s an activation requirement?


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember a Gifted with a skill that had an activation requirement. In fact, he didn¡¯t know any skill that had an activation requirement outside of needing a skill to be in effect before it can be used.


    What if it was like [Bless Your Kindness]? Maybe he needed to activate one or more of his skills to meet an activation requirement.


    He shook his head at the idea. Wouldn¡¯t his interface have told him about that?


    ¡°But that¡¯s assuming that it works like every other skill,¡± he muttered.


    And it didn¡¯t.


    Maybe it was like throwing a back flip.


    Delano could throw a backflip but only if he had a running start, he¡¯d break his neck doing one from a stationary position. Well, he could throw a backflip from a running start once upon a time. Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d seen his friend throw a backflip.


    If that was the case, then maybe there was some kind of action that activated it. He could feel it just the way he could feel his heart. And he could control his heart to a certain extent but not with actual mental control like he did to perform actions like raising his hand.


    It¡¯s more indirect, he thought. Other actions control it.


    For example, if he wanted his heart to beat faster, he overexerted himself.


    No.


    It was a good example but not the one he was looking for. Breathing. That was it. If he wanted his heart to beat faster, he could do so by breathing faster, and slower breaths meant slower heartbeats.


    Then how would it work with a skill?


    [Knowledge is Power] had given him points in mental stat and uncle Dorthna claimed that he would need the extra mental strength so that his brain could deal with the recoil of collecting so much information.


    Which meant skills gave stats they felt were needed to use them properly. Not perfectly, just properly.


    Did that mean all stats gained were simply just side-effects of skills?


    That was a curious question.


    I wonder if Veebee will know.


    That was if he ever met Veebee again considering he couldn¡¯t remember the creature¡¯s designation number. While he couldn¡¯t really blame himself for forgetting it, he felt bad for forgetting.


    Veebee had seemed nice enough. In a scary I may or may not eat you in your sleep but I¡¯m still your friend kind of way.


    Melmarc shook the thought of Veebee¡¯s open mouth from his mind and refocused his attention on the task at hand.


    I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m using a whole day to figure out a skill.


    It felt disappointing as he returned to trying to figure out the skill.


    [Rings of Saturn] had given him strength and dexterity. Balance, too. It had given him mana but that was a given, the skill was quite literally about attacking with mana.


    Melmarc got up.


    ¡°So it¡¯s going to be difficult to handle,¡± he muttered, holding out his hand. ¡°Why do I need the balance? Recoil?¡±


    His mind went back to a night so many years ago, and he frowned at having to remember the thought. How had the Player used the skill? Maybe if he could do the same thing.


    He¡¯d charged it around his body and just¡­ fired it.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s a bust.¡±


    He definitely couldn¡¯t just command it at will.


    ¡°How about throwing?¡±


    Melmarc reached for the sense that felt the skill and swung his arm down like a pitcher. Nothing happened.


    No, that wasn¡¯t it. Something happened, it just wasn¡¯t the activation of the skill. He felt the skill stir, but nothing else.


    Maybe something different.


    Melmarc pulled up the skill description once more.


    [Rings of Saturn]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it


    He would need to gather the mana somehow and wrap it around his body.


    Maybe¡­


    He moved his hip, turned his waist as if spinning a hula hoop. The skill stirred more than before.


    Oh, God no.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t want that. Yet, the more he moved, the more the skill stirred until he could actually feel it moving. It was like raising his heartbeat with every step. Every swing of his hip felt as if he was generating the momentum required to activate the skill.


    His sense of achievement was smothered into nonexistence at what it meant.


    I don¡¯t want to be the guy swinging doing the hula hoop to use his skill.


    And yet, some things were inevitable.


    You didn¡¯t always get to pick and choose.


    Considering that the skill had also gone out of its way to give him accuracy as a stat, everything was pointing in support of his current action.


    He put some force into his hips and turned it quickly.


    He had never been more disappointed to see his interface in his life.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    A ring of dull white appeared his waist, swinging around him like an actual hula hoop. It didn¡¯t touch him or make contact with his body. There was enough space between him and the ring to fit his hands.


    He didn¡¯t know if that was a good or bad thing. What he wanted to know was how he could attack with it.


    The more he twirled, the brighter it grew.


    And the heavier it got.


    It was like a literal physical thing. It was heavy, weighing him down. He couldn¡¯t hold it up for long. Letting it go was his only option.


    He ended his hip training by thrusting it in a specific direction and the ring of mana disconnected from him, shooting off into the distance.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    [Uses remaining: 3/4]


    The ring traveled a distance, dimming the farther it went until it disappeared. It was as if the air around had been eating away at it.


    The stronger it is, the farther it goes? He wondered.


    It was a far cry from what the Player had displayed that night. A very far cry.


    But it was something, even if it was an embarrassing something.


    ¡°So strength helps with the weight,¡± he mused. ¡°Accuracy helps since I have to be moving to use it. Agility should be for the movement requirement, so should balance.¡±


    Then what did dexterity do?


    Melmarc looked at his hand, the one with the bugs. Dexterity was often related to hands, wasn¡¯t it?


    What if¡­


    He raised his hand, then slowly twirled it around, keeping it straight, as if he was trying to mix something, using the hand like a spoon.


    The sensation of the skill swirled and a smile touched Melmarc¡¯s lips. He moved his hand faster. When the ring of light appeared around his hand he was excited.


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    There would be no hula hooping Delver.


    Also, it would be easier to aim and attack. With his hand still spinning, he aimed straight in front of him and swung his hand forward.


    The ring shot out in a chaotic tumble, cutting through the air. It went faster than the the previous try, farther too, before fizzling out.


    Melmarc pumped a fist in the air before noticing that his hand was smoking. He looked down at it and got his second good news.


    His hand wasn¡¯t what was smoking, it was the critters. Slowly, each one¡¯s slackened and they fell off one by one. The pin-prick sensation was completely gone.


    Did raw mana give burning damage? He wondered, or did the critters just react to it that way.


    Whichever one it was, it turned out to be unimportant. Only two things were important. One, he had an attack skill. Two, he had two more shots before the skill hit its cool down.


    He looked down at his single leg with some of the creatures still on it and smiled.


    ¡­


    The smell of burnt poison¡ªbecause he had no other way to describe it¡ªfilled his nostrils as Naymond stepped over the dead creature.


    He looked around at the ruin with a frown.


    His suit was a mess, riddled with cuts, and he had blood stains all over it.


    ¡°Motherfuckers hit like jackhammers,¡± he muttered with a frown as he approached the third one standing casually in front of him.


    Their skill, if he could even call it a skill, was tricky.


    For one thing, the form was a completely thin mess. It was almost as if it was a skill but not one that belonged to the creature.


    Then there was the activation time. People¡¯s skills activated along with some movement of their form. That¡¯s why Sage¡¯s were hard to kill by other Gifted. Before your skill activated, there was a delay between the form twitching and the skill activating. The delay wasn¡¯t exponentially long but it was enough for anyone watching.


    The delay between the form¡¯s action and the Gifted¡¯s skill activation was a little longer than the healthy knee jerk reaction you get when doctor¡¯s decide to test your reflex at the hospital.


    Naymond had used Anji, one of the boy¡¯s renting a room in one of his apartments, as a study once. He was trying to teach the boy how to achieve a faster activation time when he learnt it. A Gifted¡¯s form, reacts the moment a Gifted thinks of the skill in the right form required to activate it.


    So every Sage had the time between the moment you think about your skill to the moment the skill actually activates to do something about it.


    But the real problem with the creatures he was fighting, from what he could tell, was that their skill was not their own.


    The creature, seven feet tall, desiccated with one arm and a baking pan for a hand leaped into the air.


    Naymond frowned, then it blitzed through the distance, swinging the pan as if it was swinging a sword.


    There was no form telegraphing to tell him that the skill was being activated, and while he could see the form, using [Generous attention] on it was doing nothing.


    Naymond dived to the side, wincing as his injuries protested. He avoided the first barrage of attacks as he came to a rolling stop. He hesitated as he got to his feet.


    One Mississippi.


    Then the creature turned and started a second barrage. The first pan-swing went high and Naymond dived under it, dropping into another roll.


    One Mississippi.


    The creature went at him again and he jumped. It was a single downward swing and an action as simple as jumping was enough to evade it.


    Then Naymond stepped to the side, gave the creature space and it dashed forward with the speed of a thrown baseball and the force of a battering ram.


    Just like a video game, he thought.


    All the creatures had a designated set of actions. In the last three days each group he¡¯d met either had the same set of actions or something similar.


    They weren¡¯t that difficult to avoid once you got the hang of it. The problem was learning them and getting the hang of it.


    Naymond kept his eyes peeled, waiting.


    The creature turned again. Their eyes locked and its form twitched. Where a Gifted wore their form like a cloak, these creatures had theirs as a single flame the size of a heart on their chest, and it only flickered when they made eye contact with him.


    Naymond activated his skill and his interface flashed in front of him.


    [You have used skill Generous Attention]


    The form wiggled slightly, then did something Naymond had never seen it do since before arriving here. It popped, gone like a popped balloon.


    The creature dropped to its knees and fell to the ground.


    Then it released a pungent smell. Naymond could only describe it as burning poison.


    Finally alone once more, he rested his back against the wall and released a deep and tired sigh.


    He had lost his hat at some point and his hair was in his face. His suit wasn¡¯t even worthy of being called a suit anymore, and his body was heavily numb. Every step he took filled him with a sensation of pin-pricks. It was like his body was falling asleep.


    He gave it some time and smoke started rising from his suit. The bugs that were attached to him fell from his body and hit the ground.


    Naymond looked down at them with a frown. He hated the little critters. They were his least favorite thing about this portal.


    And what the hell is taking the Delvers so long to get here.


    He looked down at his left leg. It was riddled with the critters all black and small and attached to his pants. He¡¯d tried taking his pants off but it didn¡¯t take. Any piece of clothing they were attached to was not moving an inch.


    He was torn between going back in search of the group he¡¯d encountered that had given him that group of critters or going forward.


    From all he knew, the latter was a death wish. And since the only method of getting rid of the critters and whatever they were doing to slow him down was by killing the monsters, he really hoped completing the quest was going to kill them. There had been cases of Delvers coming back from portals with one leftover affliction or the other.


    Forward it is.


    He pushed himself off the wall and winced from the pain. One thing he knew for sure was that if selling your soul to Caldath led to these abominations around him, he sure as hell didn¡¯t want to have anything to do with fighting Caldath.


    It was probably some kind of demon. At least the quest only spoke of its orb.


    He stumbled out of the ruins and into the dark night, wondering, not for the first time, where Melmarc could possibly be.


    And were the fuck are those Delvers?


    Naymond stepped out into the cool night and made his way to the large castle on the horizon.


    He would continue his search for Melmarc on his way there.


    Please be alive, Mr. Lockwood.

 FORTY-NINE: Blood of Edinka

    The whole place was buzzing with the active life of people. The police had since cordoned of the entire building but there was only so much they could do. The house was the venue of the incident and they were only allowed to cordon off the house, not disturb other families.


    The first responders had been actual everyday police officers, responding to a report about gunshots in the environment. According to one of them, they were met bet a member of the neighborhood watch who¡¯d pointed them in the direction of the house.


    The neighbor didn¡¯t know if the house was where the gunshots had come from but he claimed that the beautiful neighbor who was nice and never bothered anybody was new to the neighborhood and he¡¯d seen some kids going into the house.


    It hadn¡¯t taken time before protocols were about to be put in place when Alfa¡¯s team had shown up and usurped the entire thing.


    One thing Alfa enjoyed about the specifics of her job was that this wasn¡¯t some detective movie where a different branch of law enforcement showed up and there was suddenly some shoving battle and screams about jurisdictions. The very presence of her and her team was all the jurisdictions they needed.


    Alfa walked in as her team spread out and began sealing off the entire house and the non-Gifted police officers bowed out as quickly as they could. It was quick and efficient. What it left them with now was a house filled with Gifted police officers in uniform. E-ranks to D-ranks.


    Alfa stood with arms folded in front of her. There was a frown on her face that did nothing good for her wrinkles as she stared at the portal in front of her. She was sure to give it a good distance lest any unnecessary things happen by chance.


    From where she was standing, the portal stood between her and a perfect sculpture of a young boy made of pepper. It was as if someone had grinded a buck load of pepper, somehow merged them all together to make one solid stone of pepper, then taken their time to make a sculpture.


    Alfa had never seen such artistry in her life before. But she¡¯d heard of such level of artistry before.


    Non-Gifted really have no place near a portal, she thought solemnly.


    Everyone knew the effects of being around a portal for a non-Gifted were varying but severe. The government had done its best to spread the word without alarming the citizens. If you saw a portal as a non-Gifted, you run, then alert the authorities. And, yes, you do it in that order. The government didn¡¯t care if the impossible was happening and dragons immediately started flooding out of the portals.


    The rule was undisputed. You run, then you inform the authorities. Safety first.


    Rich coming from you, she thought self-deprecatingly.


    Sadly, people were people, and while the government had only spread half-truths about portal effects on non-Gifted, the world had the internet, and people loved to video.


    The government said the portal will definitely kill you. The videos said you stood a chance of getting skills, maybe even a class, even if temporarily.


    So every once in a while, there were people who saw portals and tried to get as close to it as possible, risking the chance of wanting to know what it was like to be an [Enchanter] or a [Crafter]. They wanted to breathe fire or shift the ground beneath their feet or summon lightning from the clouds.


    Alfa was of the opinion that the internet did far more bad than good these days. She knew the person that was now a statue of pepper wasn¡¯t at fault here, but the sight still reminded her of all the things she disliked about people who didn¡¯t listen.


    You might get powers, she thought. Or you might die.


    She couldn¡¯t see how there were options. Hadn¡¯t anyone heard of the man who¡¯d turned into an ice sculpture in Alaska? The man¡¯s body was still right there, unable to be moved. Even non-Gifted of different ranks hadn¡¯t been able to move him.


    Portals had bad effects on non-Gifted. It turned them into the impossible most often than not. A tree bearing fruits that melted the eyes when eaten but cured cancer. A talking lectern that repeated anything a child under the age of fourteen said to it like a recording. An ice sculpture.


    Now a pillar of pepper.


    And still people won¡¯t listen.


    Alfa shook her head. This wasn¡¯t who she was. This wasn¡¯t the kind of tired and vindictive person she was. She was kinder than this, nicer than this. She was¡­


    Alfa shook her head. This is who you are.


    It was the truth. Sometimes she lacked empathy for certain things. She was, in a simple word, a ¡®bitch¡¯. There was nobody from her past life that didn¡¯t know it.


    Then her husband slowly made her a good person. He was an asshole but a kind asshole. And according to him, in a relationship, only one person was allowed to be a bad guy, and that was his job. So he¡¯d served as her buffer, reminded her anytime she was being to apathetic. He¡¯d made her good.


    Then the Gifted police department had started looking for a face and they¡¯d made her the face. It was stupid. There were other non-Gifted officers fitting for the job, not her. Then they¡¯d started parading her everywhere as a good person, a kind person. The populace had bought into it, looked to her like some kind of superhero.


    People met her and expected her to be good and kind and loving and caring. They expected her to be everything she was only with her husband and kids.


    What was worse? She had also bought into it. Sometimes, when she caught herself being herself¡ªlike right now¡ªshe berated herself and told herself that it wasn¡¯t her, that the woman on the televisions and the adverts and the occasional internet tabloid was her.


    It was stupid.


    Alfa let out a slow sigh and shook herself back to the present. She had bigger worries to deal with than her own personal identity crisis.


    She had a five-day old portal in front of her and no solution to it yet. As for the pillar of pepper, they¡¯d identified him on the first day. Jake Nanhall.


    He was a high school kid from one of the private schools in Brooklyn. Average grades, average everything really.


    His parents had been informed of his unfortunate demise but her and her team continued to feign ignorance of what their beautiful baby boy had been doing in a strange woman¡¯s house on the other side of town.


    The police very well couldn¡¯t give them the answer to that. Especially now that they knew what he had been doing.


    At this point, even the back deals and the madness of the gangs had been put on the back waters. Yes, she had people still looking into it. Nan and Tony were keeping an eye on Navari but she¡¯d told them not to make a move.


    They had found the packages and opened them. The contents had been terrifying. Half a human heart, half a human lung, half a human brain. They were all half a human organ each. And the worst part, they¡¯d confirmed that despite being packaged in simple boxes, they were impossibly still alive.


    How the hell does someone keep half a liver and half a stomach alive?


    It was disgusting and had all the signs of a Gifted¡¯s touch on them. Naymond was right, whatever was going on, there were deep Gifted hands involved. Although, Naymond always being right did not come as a surprise.


    The bastard Sage was always right about everything. It was one of the things she hated about working with the man. He was a walking hazard, a stain on the department even if he was merely a consultant, but God was he useful. Whenever he decided to help, he solved cases too accurately. The man was too efficient and had no business being a felon or a police consultant.


    A detective walked up to Alfa and she was forced to look away from the pillar of pepper and the portal in front of her.


    ¡°Any update?¡± she asked.


    The man shook his head sadly. ¡°The corporations are still setting up. Damsil wants to take the portal but they claim to be having a tough time gathering the team required.¡±


    ¡°Probably a bunch of trainees,¡± she said with a frown. ¡°Probably kids straight out of high school or something. Their new recruits.¡±


    Companies did it a lot. C-rank portals were never priorities. Whenever one opened, companies took their time. They gathered their trainees, put a B-rank Delver or two at the head of the team and sent them into the portal to train.


    It was madness. And before they even did that, they would bide their time and waste everyone¡¯s. Unlike B-rank to S-rank portals, a C-rank portal and lower could be left active for a very long time before it started becoming a risk of triggering a Chaos Run.


    How the hell does Naymond expect me to sort this out, she thought. And who the hell is Melmarc that¡¯s got him all worried?


    Worried enough to jump into a portal when his psychological evaluation said he had a seething fear¡ªyes, fear, not dislike¡ªfor portals.


    What could¡¯ve possibly motivated him that much?


    Alfa discarded the question almost immediately. ¡®Motivate¡¯ was a sufficient word but it wasn¡¯t the correct one. She¡¯d heard his voice when he¡¯d been talking to her, listened to his words. It wasn¡¯t a matter of motivation that had sent him into the portal.


    Alfa, this is no time to be worrying about yourself and what would happen if they find out a mentee fell it. Believe me, it will be worse if you don¡¯t give them that information, his words replayed slowly in her mind.


    ¡°What could he possibly have been so scared of that he¡¯d enter a portal,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°What?¡± the detective asked, leaning in.


    Alfa shook her head. ¡°Not you, detective Favi. This whole thing¡¯s got me talking to myself.¡±


    Favi nodded, looking at the portal and all the yellow tape set up around it.


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a dead kid and an active portal in the middle of a freaking house. This has got to be a nightmare. When was the last time a portal appeared in a residential area? Aren¡¯t they all meant to show up in safe places like forests or deserts. You know, places where there aren¡¯t people.¡±


    Alfa nodded. That was the general appearance consensus of portals. In fact, there were scientists and Sages who believed the portals appeared away from humans because of something that had to do with their mana. Some Sages theorized that the amount of human form existent in large numbers where humans lived kept the portals away.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Though there had been recent reports on the internet of the occasional portal showing up in residential areas now and again.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t they show up in the sky like one of the weird ones,¡± Favi muttered. ¡°Instead of the PR nightmare.¡±


    PR nightmare, huh. Alfa couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine just how bad a PR nightmare this was going to be. She was one of the two only people outside a portal that knew who exactly was inside the portal.


    Eckberth, as Naymond had feared, was dragging his feet even after finding out who was in the portal. Alfa hadn¡¯t expected him to jump up and start running around at the fact that mentee was in the portal. The number of words he¡¯d used in the tone he¡¯d used them hadn¡¯t been unexpected, but she wasn¡¯t surprised that he wasn¡¯t calling in favors and things like that.


    But she¡¯d expected more when she¡¯d dropped Naymond¡¯s name. Even now she could still remember his words at finding out that Naymond was in the portal.


    Good riddance.


    It seemed Naymond had no friends, despite being protected.


    ¡°It¡¯s been five days,¡± Favi said and Alfa nodded.


    ¡°Yea, five days since this bulk of bullshit turned up,¡± she confirmed.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t the government be sending in their own Delvers by now?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± she said. ¡°The Gifted department has agreed that a C-rank portal has to be close to a Chaos Run due to no one attending to it before they take matters into their own hands. It¡¯s to give the companies a chance to raise the strengths and experiences of their Delvers.¡±


    ¡°And how long does it normally take?¡±


    ¡°C-rank portals can be active for up to a month before they stand the risk of a Chaos Run.¡±


    Alfa didn¡¯t like this.


    She turned and walked out of the room. Just standing and worrying in front of the portal was going to do nothing for her. She wasn¡¯t sanctioned to enter the portal since she fell under the category of a government Delver at best.


    She was law enforcement, but also belonged to the government by employment. Every once in a while, she could push her designation and claim Delver.


    The entire house was busy. Police officers were dusting for prints, using their skills to do whatever it was they were doing. There was a man at the corner who kept on arranging and rearranging one of the walls quite literally with his skill, whatever it was.


    According to him, there was something wrong with the entire craftsmanship of the house. She knew nothing about that so she left him to his job.


    She stepped out into the open air. the afternoon sun hit her like a brother who loved you but sometimes forgot his own strength.


    She pulled a pair of sun glasses from her breast pocket and put them on, then headed over to her car. She got to the government sanctioned SUV and paused with the door open.


    Tipping her sun glasses a bit lower, she glanced at the crowd of onlookers and spotted a face. It was a man, tall with a smattering of stubbles for beards.


    He was just an onlooker but Alfa didn¡¯t understand why she couldn¡¯t take her eyes off him. There was something about him that told her that he was different. He wasn¡¯t a spectator or some simple bystander here for the potential neighborhood and town gossip that could come from this. The way he looked at the house was different. He watched it as if he knew it deeply. No. that was wrong. It was as if he had something inside he needed to go and look for.


    Like he¡¯d somehow lost someone in there. Alfa would¡¯ve loved to go talk to him but there was a chance that would cause more harm than good. And each time she pointed him out to a police officer so that they could go talk to him, they always came back claiming that they couldn¡¯t find him.


    That last part was all the suspicion she needed.


    Alfa put her sun glasses back on properly and stepped into the car. She closed the door and turned on the car. If she couldn¡¯t do anything about the portal, she could at least do some detective work. The lovely woman they¡¯d found in the house wasn¡¯t dead yet. She had been rushed to the hospital where Alfa had gotten confirmation an hour ago that she was now conscious and capable of having a conversation.


    She turned onto the road and started making her way in the direction of the hospital when her phone beeped with a message.


    Alfa picked it up, staring between it and the road as she read the message. The information passed brought a smile to her face.


    Finally, some good news.


    It wasn¡¯t exactly good news but it was useful news. She¡¯d spoken to Eckberth the moment the police had sealed off the house and had received a useless earful from the man. Then she¡¯d gone over his head and made a request for an appointment with the commissioner. For all the clout that Naymond said she had, it had taken four days to get a response.


    Alfa turned her car down a different road and stepped on the gas.


    It was time to see the commissioner.


    ¡­


    The waiting room was an unimportant piece of information as far as Alfa was concerned. What was important was that despite the message she¡¯d received scheduling her in for a timed appointment, she¡¯d been sitting in the waiting room for thirty minutes past her appointment time.


    When she¡¯d walked into the office and spoken to the secretary, the young lady had been all gushes over being in front of the famous Detective Alfa. Alfa had seen it as a good sign. She wasn¡¯t one to advocate for an abuse of power, but she would take advantage of her fame when she thought it was necessary.


    Unfortunately, taking advantage of her fame had proven impossible. The secretary, Jensen¡ªher husband always said remembering names helped when dealing with people¡ªcouldn¡¯t help.


    The commissioner was on an important online meeting and couldn¡¯t attend to her until he was done. Personally, Alfa thought it was something else. The powerful had a habit of making those who came looking for them wait, as if it was some kind of a power play. She didn¡¯t understand why they thought that making people wait was somehow an assertion of their dominance.


    Alfa had skimmed through two magazines before Jensen finally signaled for her.


    ¡°The commissioner will see you now,¡± the lady said with a beaming yet apologetic smile before returning her attention to her computer.


    Alfa nodded and walked into the office as quickly as she could before the secretary decided to stop her over some other excuse the commissioner might decide to come up with to make her wait a little longer.


    In her haste, she pushed the door open without knocking and stepped inside.


    ¡°Commissioner Bubat,¡± she greeted, closing the door behind her.


    ¡°Detective Alfa,¡± Bubat replied eyes fixed on his computer screen.


    Bubat was an elderly man with over thirty years in the force. He had a full head of greying hair and a properly dressed greying moustache. His entire head was squarish like the generic Generals you watched in movies, and he had the stocky build to go with it.


    Currently, he was typing away at his computer with two fingers, frowning as if the thing had personally slighted him somehow.


    ¡°You wanted to see me, Detective,¡± he said without looking up from the computer.


    Alfa was hoping to keep it short.


    ¡°I did,¡± she answered.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a portal that just opened up in a residential building a few days ago, commissioner.¡±


    Bubat paused to look at her. ¡°And you want my help with that? Kind of odd, don¡¯t you think? I get that it¡¯s opened in a residential area but you really have nothing to worry about. It¡¯s a matter for Delvers. I¡¯ve read the news and you¡¯ve already done your job by sealing off the place from civilians so you should be good. You have, right?¡±


    ¡°I have.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯re good.¡± Bubat turned back to his computer. ¡°Any portal casualties?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. A boy, Jake Nanahall. Seventeen years old.¡±


    Bubat¡¯s typing paused. He let out a tired breath and rubbed his forehead with thumb and forefinger.


    ¡°A damn shame,¡± he said. ¡°Always a terrible thing losing a child to portal nonsense. What did he become?¡±


    ¡°A sculpture of pepper,¡± Alfa answered.


    Bubat shook his head. ¡°Now it¡¯s mocking God. Pathetic.¡±


    Alfa wouldn¡¯t go that far, but she wasn¡¯t here to exchange words about theology. That was what Naymond liked to do with the religious when he was feeling bored.


    When Bubat was done with his solemnity, he returned his attention to her. ¡°Eckberth can handle the press on that one. Please tell me that someone has reached out to the boy¡¯s families.¡±


    Alfa nodded.


    ¡°Good. Good.¡± Bubat rubbed his beard in thought. ¡°Was he an only child?¡±


    ¡°Second of four, sir.¡±


    Bubat winced. ¡°Were you the one that informed them?¡±


    Alfa shook her head and Bubat¡¯s brows furrowed.


    ¡°Why?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s not like you not to.¡±


    Actually, it was very much like her not to. It seemed like the commissioner had also bought into the police propaganda parading her as a good person.


    ¡°I was trying to have a conversation with Eckberth at the time,¡± she said. ¡°My men handled it in my absence.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Bubat said in realization. ¡°Eckberth told me about that. He said Naymond stepped into the portal. Considering his terrors regarding portals I¡¯m really surprised.¡±


    ¡°Me, too, sir.¡±


    ¡°On the other hand, though,¡± Bubat mused. ¡°Maybe his fear of portals was just a lie. I don¡¯t know if you noticed but he¡¯s good at those. Did you and him get close? Become friends?¡±


    Alfa shook her head. ¡°No, sir.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to know. In that case, Eckberth couldn¡¯t have said it better. Good riddance. Damned Sage saddled me with more problems than my age is worth. Did you drop by to give me the good news?¡±


    Alfa knew Naymond wasn¡¯t liked but it was terrifying to know that people were happy that he was potentially dead. [Sage] wasn¡¯t a combat class, so hearing that one went into a portal alone was the same as saying that one had died. It scarcely mattered the portal rank in relation to theirs.


    You didn¡¯t send a chef with the highest culinary skill into battle and expect them to come back alive.


    Why were Eckberth and Bubat happy now that they thought he was dead? Naymond was a nuisance but he wasn¡¯t this bad, was he?


    ¡°I¡¯m here for a different reason, sir,¡± she said.


    Bubat typed an entire four letters on his keyboard and grumbled something about the computer out to take his job at this point before looking up at her again.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Detective Alfa,¡± he said suddenly. ¡°I know it¡¯s beneath your position but are you any good with computers? I would have miss Jensen do this for me but almost everything I do here is above her pay grade.¡±


    Alfa nodded but did not leave where she was standing. ¡°Sir, I believe my reason for being here is more important, if I may risk sounding so arrogant.¡±


    Bubat paused. He gave her a long assessing look before leaning back against his seat. ¡°Alright, try me.¡±


    Alfa was more than happy to. She didn¡¯t want to get into a kind of trouble that was capable of terrifying Naymond if she could avoid it.


    ¡°Before Mr. Hitchcock stepped into the portal, he called me on my phone.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He wanted me to rush the portal closure. He insinuated that it would be for our own good to have it done immediately. He told me to ignore hierarchy if Eckberth didn¡¯t pull his weight and go straight to you.¡±


    Bubat chuckled. ¡°Of course. The guy went in there without a team. He might be all confusing at times but one thing we can say is that he doesn¡¯t want to die.¡±


    Alfa scratched the back of her head awkwardly. Now came the hard part.


    Bubat¡¯s chuckles died and his brows furrowed. ¡°He went in there without a team, did he not, Detective Alfa?¡±


    ¡°He did, sir.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you look like you¡¯re about to tell me something that could get the both of us killed.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s more likely to be a PR nightmare than get us killed,¡± Alfa said.


    ¡°Then spit it out.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock went into the portal because he was going after one of ours¡­ a mentee, sir.¡±


    Bubat froze. It wasn¡¯t the pause of some kind of shock or disbelief. He looked like a man who¡¯d just seen the Christian God and found out his name was Lucifer. He was stricken with terror.


    When he spoke again, his voice was slow, shaky. ¡°Naymond went after a child.¡±


    Alfa wasn¡¯t sure what was happening. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°And he told you to skip the chain of command and come straight to me if Eckberth did nothing about it.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Bubat moved his mouse about, made a few clicks.


    ¡°What is¡­ wh¡ªwhat¡­¡± he stammered a bit more, cleared his throat, then loosened his tie. ¡°What¡¯s the boy¡¯s name?¡±


    This was getting more complicated than Alfa had expected it to be. She¡¯d come here fearing some severe punishment at giving the commissioner the news not to terrorize the man.


    ¡°NAME, DETECTIVE!¡± Bubat bellowed in terror. His hand shook and his eyes looked stricken.


    ¡°Melmarc Lockwood, sir.¡±


    Bubat moved his mouse, the motion slow, hands still shaky.


    ¡°Please God,¡± he prayed as he clicked. ¡°Please God let it not be so. I¡¯ve still got a lot to live for. Please answer my prayer this one time and I promise to give a hefty tithe this Sunday.¡±


    He made a final click then started typing on his keyboard. Bubat prayed as he typed, begging in a quiet voice, pleading with his God. Alfa watched, his terror growing contagious. She was beginning to think she may be in bigger trouble than she could imagine.


    It took a while. It was a long moment of silence riddled with the slow sound of clicking keyboard keys and a middle-aged man praying. Finally, Bubat spoke words.


    He leaned back against his chair and groaned like the dying.


    Alfa frowned. Wait, is he crying?


    ¡°Why the hell did nobody tell me I had a priority one citizen in one of precincts?¡± Bubat groaned. ¡°What have I done to deserve this?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sir,¡± Alfa said, confused.


    ¡°That¡¯s the kid in the portal?¡± Bubat was pointing at his screen. ¡°Melmarc Jay Lockwood. Faker class?¡±


    Alfa nodded.


    ¡°Oh, Jesus son of his mother,¡± Bubat groaned again. ¡°My God, why have you forsaken me?¡±


    ¡°Commissioner Bubat?¡± Alfa had confirmed that the man wasn¡¯t crying but he was being quite dramatic.


    Bubat gathered himself. ¡°Have you informed his family?¡±


    ¡°No, sir.¡±


    ¡°Good, good.¡±


    ¡°But my men are doing their best to reach out to his next of kin,¡± she said. ¡°His mother and father are not reachable right now so we¡¯re trying to get an alternative, so we¡¯ve gone for his records in his former school. I assure you that we¡¯re doing our best to get a family member.¡±


    Bubat stuttered on his chair. Alfa had never seen the likes.


    ¡°Call those damned bastards and tell them to stop this instant!¡± He pointed a finger that shook violently at her. ¡°I swear by whatever lifespan I have left that if any of those calls go through, the last thing I¡¯ll do in this life is bury all of you with me.¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°Blood of Edinka! Pick your damned phone, call your team, and tell them to stop making those damned calls!¡±


    Alfa retrieved her phone from her pocket and was already calling Nan. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, sir?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Bubat scoffed. ¡°You¡¯ve damned us all. You went and lost a priority one citizen. There are only a handful of them.¡±


    ¡°A priority one citizen?¡±


    Nan wasn¡¯t picking.


    Bubat looked at her, flabbergasted. ¡°YOU LOST THE SON OF A FUCKING OATH!¡±


    Now everything wasn¡¯t making any sense, and Alfa needed things to make sense. So she asked the one question any reasonable human being would ask.


    ¡°What¡¯s an Oath, sir?¡±

 FIFTY: Oaths

    Alfa had seen commissioner Bubat terrified, now she was seeing him confused. Really confused.


    Was it the question she¡¯d asked?


    Could he have been talking about actual oaths, like promises?


    It didn¡¯t make sense to her. Bubat had spoken as if he had been talking about people. After all, promises didn¡¯t have children.


    And Nan still wasn¡¯t picking.


    ¡°Sir?¡± she tried when Bubat continued to just stare at her in disbelief.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t tell you.¡± Commissioner Bubat¡¯s face looked stricken. ¡°He didn¡¯t fucking tell you.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what, sir?¡±


    Bubat¡¯s face morphed into a full scowl. ¡°The fucking bastard didn¡¯t tell you, and now I have. Could this day get any worse?¡±


    Alfa wasn¡¯t certain she even had the IQ required to understand what was going on, but she knew one thing: whatever Naymond hadn¡¯t told her, commissioner Bubat had only just begun to tell her, which meant that he could stop.


    ¡°If it¡¯s not something I¡¯m supposed to know, then you don¡¯t have to tell me, sir.¡±


    Bubat shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. You already know that there are a set of people who are referred to as Oaths. And that¡¯s also all I needed to know to be in the mess that I¡¯m in.¡±


    Mess? What mess?


    ¡°I can¡¯t, in good conscience, leave you with only that, now that you¡¯re on this side of the line,¡± Bubat continued. ¡°The least I can do is tell you what I know before I report this.¡±


    ¡°Report this?¡± Alfa felt another touch of panic. ¡°Sir, I¡¯ve been a good detective up until now. And while I know I¡¯ve slipped up on this matter, I feel like losing my job would be¡­¡±


    Alfa couldn¡¯t complete the sentence. I feel like losing my job would be what? A little too much?


    In her carelessness she¡¯d practically sent an untrained child into a volatile situation. Yes, she had been assured that it wasn¡¯t going to be risky, but look where that had gotten her. A child in a portal. And not just any child, a child of a very important person, apparently.


    Losing your job will be an apt punishment.


    ¡°You¡¯re panicking for all the wrong reasons, Detective Alfa,¡± Bubat told her. ¡°Knowing what you know right now has a higher chance of securing your job. Hell, you now have a higher chance of becoming commissioner one day, maybe even going higher.¡±


    ¡°Alright, sir,¡± she said. ¡°Then if there¡¯s a rabbit hole as regards this subject, I¡¯m ready to go down the hole.¡±


    Commissioner Bubat leaned forward and placed his hands on his table. ¡°Good. But I assure you, This isn¡¯t something you can learn sitting down. You should have a seat.¡±


    Alfa wanted to refuse. For her, there was something about standing when she was on foreign grounds. It felt like she held on to some form of authority, an assertion of dominance in someway.


    It said that while she was a guest or an outsider there, she was still her own entity. Like a president in a foreign country.


    Bubat shook his head at her as an adult would to a child. ¡°Sit, Firdausi. This is no time for whatever principle has left you standing in my office like a soldier for the duration of this conversation.¡±


    Stopping herself from arguing the point, Alfa walked over to the chairs on the other side of the commissioner¡¯s desk and sat down.


    Bubat leaned in closer, as if he was about to share a secret.


    ¡°What¡¯s your job, Detective?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Governing and solving crimes related to the Gifted, sir,¡± she answered.


    ¡°And would you say you do it well?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Bubat nodded sagely. ¡°I would say you do it well, too.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome. But you also understand that you are very limited in your ability to do your job, correct?¡±


    Alfa nodded. ¡°Not many Gifted want to join the police force so it has left us understaffed. I¡¯ve already been talking to Eckberth about a possible campaign to help attract more recruits.¡±


    Bubat snorted. ¡°Good luck with that. You¡¯ll only get D''s and E''s with that strategy. Everyone above those ranks wants to be a Delver and make the big bucks.¡±


    ¡°True, but survey shows that not everyone is willing to risk their lives with the unknown. What we¡¯re trying to do is focus on those ones unwilling to go into the unknown. If we can tap into that niche, we could bolster the strength of our precincts.¡±


    Bubat paused. ¡°Good to know you¡¯ve given it much thought. Personally, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re delusional, ambitious, or if I¡¯m just pessimistic.¡±


    ¡°I would say none of the above, sir.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps. But what I¡¯m trying to say is what do you do when an S-rank decides to break the law. What do you do when you have, as people have recently been calling themselves, super villains who are S-ranks?¡±


    ¡°We deal with it as well,¡± Alfa answered. ¡°S-ranks are just ranks, sir. They might be powerful, but they are not invincible. There is always a way.¡±


    Bubat cocked a brow at her.


    Alfa recognized it. It was the brow you gave when someone who should know better utters something stupid. She wouldn¡¯t lie and say she did not deserve it. As far as she knew, she¡¯d also said nonsense. However, she was right when she said they were not invincible. It was just that every strategy she thought of in dealing with an S-rank involved a lot of deaths.


    A B-rank Sage was not an S-rank Sage. Even now, there were secrets amongst the S-ranks that the populace didn¡¯t even know about. Secrets that she didn¡¯t know about.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Bubat tried again. ¡°What would you do if one of the rankers decided to go astray? What would you do if a Delver did something they should not?¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t there protocols in place for that, sir?¡± she asked.


    From what she knew, before a company of Delvers could be legalized, the company had to sign an agreement to offer the necessary Delvers required in the event that a Delver decided to break the laws.


    Delvers were known to grow more powerful than most Gifted because they used their powers unendingly unlike the everyday Gifted. A Delver going astray was like someone on active duty going astray, simple police officers weren¡¯t equipped to handle that.


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Bubat agreed. ¡°It is the reason Delvers don¡¯t go astray. If a Delver of let¡¯s say the Handilion company did something against a Delver of the Bastion company, the Bastion company can be guaranteed to look into it. If we¡¯re being honest, they are more like a group of gangs keeping each other in check. But that¡¯s as far as it goes.¡±


    Alfa paused. ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you mean by that¡¯s as far as it goes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t you ever wondered why the really powerful Gifted never go astray, never break the laws? At least not publicly.¡±


    Alfa had wondered on a few occasions. Most of the time she¡¯d just thought the world was simply lucky. Sometimes the fear of what the world would do if someone like the number one ranker with the enigmatic class of [Unbound] decided to go astray and start killing people. It was an accepted consensus everywhere that it would take more than twenty people on the list of rankers to stop him.


    ¡°I always thought the other rankers would stand up to them,¡± she said, knowing very well that she was reaching.


    Bubat laughed. ¡°Oh, Alfa. People aren¡¯t that good. You have a higher chance of the other rankers taking power into their own hands and doing as they please than standing up to a fellow ranker. It will become like a turf war. As long as you don¡¯t encroach on my territory, you can do whatever you want.¡±


    That was a terrifying thought. It was no secret that all the Gifted police force in the United States couldn¡¯t stop the rankers in the country if they decided to share the country amongst themselves.


    There was a belief that military might would be able to stop them, but there was a greater belief that the country would negotiate, instead. After all, if you found a way to successfully defeat your rankers while weathering the casualties that would come with that, how were you going to save yourself when portals appeared.


    If the other Delvers began to live in fear of the country they served, what would happen? They would most likely migrate to a different country, leaving the United States defenseless against portals.


    The country would be a wasteland in half a decade at best.


    ¡°Now imagine this.¡± Bubat leaned in closer, dropped his voice lower. ¡°What would happen if Dragon-Knight¡¯s dragon decided to go on a rampage?¡±


    ¡°She controls the thing doesn¡¯t she?¡± Alfa asked.


    Bubat shook his head. ¡°That thing¡¯s practically an SS-rank creature, maybe weaker, though. Could be an A-rank. Still, Dragon-Knight has said it herself that she cannot win in a fight against it.¡±


    ¡°If she doesn¡¯t control it why hasn¡¯t the government tried to do anything about it?¡± Alfa asked, now growing terrified of high ranking Delvers.


    ¡°Because they can¡¯t. The volcano it inhabits wasn¡¯t a gift from the government, the thing just took it because it could.¡±


    The world was sounding way more volatile than Alfa liked. Bubat was making it sound like a powder keg just getting ready to blow.


    ¡°But none of them have,¡± Bubat continued. ¡°Why? Because of the Oaths. Now I don¡¯t know what exactly the Oaths are, but I do know that they are not on the ranking because they do not fall under the ranking. They are also natural cataclysms in their own way. From what I¡¯ve learnt since that bastard, Naymond, dragged me into this knowledgeable mess, the government isn¡¯t worried about Dragon-Knight and her dragon because they have Oaths. One of them is quite capable of putting them down if they needed to.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s terrifying. Are you sure it¡¯s not just government propaganda so that they look like they¡¯re still in power?¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but there¡¯s a video that is completely outside the public eye where an Oath went on a Delve with Dragon-Knight and for some reason she had a disagreement with the Oath. Whether she knew he was an Oath or not is anyone¡¯s guess, but he put her and her dragon down, together. Personally, I don¡¯t think he broke a sweat doing it.¡±


    ¡°And no one knows about them?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Bubat scratched his jaw. ¡°They are the government¡¯s secret weapons after all, and there¡¯s only like a handful of them. You don¡¯t go around announcing your spies to the world now, do you?¡±


    ¡°You do not.¡±


    ¡°Now these guys. These Oaths. They are the ones you need to be terrified of. Rumor has it that they all have world skills, and they are called Oaths because they are Oaths of something, like embodiments of concepts. Personally, I know of three but I¡¯ll only give you one. They call her the Oath of Shields. Rumor has it that she has the strongest defense of any Gifted alive.¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°Everything you¡¯re telling me is kind of hard to believe, sir,¡± Alfa said, though she could feel the chill in her spine now.


    She¡¯d fumbled and sent the child of one of these such people into a portal. That wasn¡¯t just a fumble, she was looking at death by Oath at this point.


    ¡°And the S-rank and SS-rank gates,¡± Bubat continued. ¡°Why do you think people don¡¯t hear about them a lot? Because the government deals with them. Companies have no privilege or rights to S-rank gates and above. That¡¯s the Oaths¡¯ jurisdiction. Detective Alfa, the Oaths are the thunders and lightnings you feared as a child, but in this case, the rankers are the children.¡±


    Alfa gulped.


    ¡°Do you understand why your team must, at all cost, not inform the parents of this child until we¡¯ve solved this problem?¡±


    Alfa nodded.


    ¡°But can¡¯t we pull a team together?¡± she asked. ¡°It¡¯s just a C-rank portal. We can say the Gifted police is going in because the companies are delaying and one of our own is in there. We can use Naymond to sway the press. Then we can keep the press under control while we sneak the boy out.¡±


    Bubat shook his head. ¡°The Gifted police does its duty on earth. We have no jurisdiction within portals. In fact, we are quite literally banned from portals for good reasons. No. This has to be handled delicately and more secretly. I¡¯ll call in a few favors, and you see what you can do on your end. You know Delvers, and I hope to God you¡¯re still on good terms with some of them. If we¡¯re lucky, we¡¯ll survive this craziness.¡±


    ¡°Got it, sir.¡±


    Before Alfa left the office, Bubat showed her a video on his monitor. He got to the video after typing in at least four passwords to get access to at least four platforms she¡¯d never seen in her life.


    According to him, she may or may not one day have access to it.


    The video he showed her left her quaking in her boots. It was of a man, tall and strong, fighting in a place filled with molten lava and rocks. The place looked like the insides of an active volcano. There was no doubt about where it was. The man was fighting inside a portal, and he was single handedly beating Dragon-Knight and her dragon while a lady simply stood off to the side watching as if she was waiting for the necessary to end.


    He made it look as if he was simply teaching them a lesson because he could. By the end of the three minutes long video, Dragon-Knight was a brutal mess. Almost all the skills she¡¯d used on the man had done far less damage than they should¡¯ve.


    Alfa had never seen a dragon bleed before. But the most terrifying part of it all was that the man had fought with nothing but his fists. Not a single skill was activated. And he had been calm the entire fight.


    Bubat called him the Oath of Madness, and Alfa found herself praying Melmarc wasn¡¯t his kid as she dialed a new number on her phone.


    The owner picked on the second ring.


    ¡°Honey,¡± Alfa said as she headed for the exit.


    ¡°Yes, babe,¡± The Blight answered.


    ¡°I messed up, I really messed up. And now I need a favor.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got you. What do you need?¡±


    ¡­


    A [Damned] twitched around the corner, eyes darting about in skull eye sockets. It was a wonder how they hadn¡¯t fallen out due to how jerky they were in their sockets.


    Melmarc watched it quietly from around a wall. The red indicators on the ground were already encroaching on him, closing in. They were faster than the [Damned]. Even now, the [Damned] hadn¡¯t found him yet.


    It¡¯s only looking for me instinctively, Melmarc noted from experience. The bugs do the real job.


    In the last six days he¡¯d been studying the [Damned], paying attention. Whenever he used [Knowledge is Power] around them, they were very aware of him.


    What he¡¯d learned was that they reacted just like people to the skill. They knew something had happened, they just didn¡¯t know why it had happened or what the source was. They simply went looking for it.


    The critters buried in the ground were the only things that knew where he was. Even now, his skill couldn¡¯t identify what they were. All it told him was that they were threats.


    Melmarc was standing on a slab of stone, watching the [Damned] as the multiple indicators converged on him until a few of them were under the slab of stone.


    Melmarc knew they wouldn¡¯t come out of the ground, instead, they would make their way into the stone and come out from directly under him. He doubted they were going after him, specifically. For him it was more likely that they were just alerted of his presence by the skill because the [Damned] was alerted, and they were simply flocking to the closest living thing.


    At least that was his hypothesis on it.


    He raised one leg from the stone as the critters crawled out from under it. They gathered to the single leg, latched onto it and tried to pin him in place. The sensation of pin-pricks filled his foot in all their capable discomfort and he winced.


    He knew the moment the [Damned] was aware of him. The indicator behind the wall started in his direction and he braced himself.


    Melmarc had done this enough times to know how it was going to end. Twirling his hand slowly, he charged up his skill. The ring appeared around his wrist like an oversized wrist band and his notification flashed in front of him.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Uses remaining: 3/4.]


    The critters continued to flock to his feet, latching him down to the stone more and more. Melmarc didn¡¯t worry about them. For some reason, they never rose higher than his ankle. The only way to move them was to actually touch a part of his body against them.


    Another thing he¡¯d learnt about them was that when night came, he was uncontrollably sleepy if he had even one of them still latched unto him. He could fight the sleep all he wanted, but his brain would grow more and more incoherent until he simply just past out.


    He¡¯d learnt this on his fourth day. He¡¯d had simple nights prior and had simply tried to see if they were the reason he¡¯d made the stupid decision of falling asleep with them on his body on that first night.


    When the sleep had come, he¡¯d fought it, and failure had hugged him like a mother hugs her child.


    For fear that the critters might somehow be affecting his brain anytime he fell asleep, he¡¯d never tried it again.


    As Melmarc¡¯s watched the [Damned] his arm was beginning to weigh him down, the ring of raw mana gathering to it more vividly by the moment.


    A few days of training the skill had taught him a few things. One of which was that he didn¡¯t have to remain in constant motion. The motion was only required to charge up the mana, it was as if pure mana pooled to kinetic energy somehow and only in a certain space.


    As for the weight, it felt like lifting extremely heavy dumbbells, heavy enough to pull him down. The more he charged it, the heavier it got.


    He moved his arm, keeping his hand in motion, and focused on the indicator on the wall. His focus sharpened on the indicator and he knew how exactly he was going to swing his arm. He couldn¡¯t just throw it carelessly, since it could go off target. Largely off target.


    When he was sure of the trajectory he needed, he swung his arm around the corner.


    The ring of mana left his wrist and shot around the wall. Melmarc had practiced enough times that now he could throw and it would cut through the air like a discuss. The effect was different depending on how he threw it.


    He watched the red indicator as he charged up a second ring of pure mana. It pulled his arm down once more in his familiar weight and his interface alerted him of how many uses were left.


    [Uses remaining: 2/4]


    Melmarc swung the second ring around the corner just as quickly as he¡¯d done the first one. When the first one struck, there was a loud crashing sound like a shotput falling on concrete. A small, red bar appeared above the indicator, before the second ring slammed into the [Damned]. Half of it was greyed out.


    The second ring slammed into the [Damned] and the entire bar greyed out. The indicator above the [Damned] went from red to grey. Melmarc watched the indicator drop from the safety of his cover, then hit the ground.


    Ignoring it, he turned his attention down to the critters on his leg and watched them drop off, falling like dead things. The first time it had happened, he hadn¡¯t been able to help the smug smirk on his lips.


    Now, it was just the expected. The critters were directly linked to the [Damned]. When they died, the critters died.


    After confirming that there were no critters left on him, he returned his attention to a different notification. One he¡¯d seen a few times in the past few days. One he¡¯d never heard anything about.


    [You have slain Damned]


    [You have gained +54 EP]


    [Total EP: 612]


    Now he had to figure out what exactly [EP] was. So far each [Damned] he¡¯d defeated had given him roughly around fifty [EP]. Melmarc couldn¡¯t tell if it was based on the difficulty of the [Damned]. Considering he¡¯d fought off most of them from a distance they hadn¡¯t been too difficult.


    There had been that one [Damned] that had evaded two blasts from [Rings of Saturn] and had almost taken his head off that one time. His luck had been the fact that it had carried a blunt weapon and not a sharp one. The hit had thrown him over a distance. Actually, it hadn''t much evaded them as Melmarc had missed horribly.


    After defeating it he¡¯d taken an entire day off hunting them. He¡¯d spent it shivering in one corner of a ruined building, wondering why his life hadn¡¯t flashed before his eyes. He¡¯d been too terrified to even think about what effects his stats had on keeping him alive after he¡¯d been struck, all he¡¯d been able to focus on was the fact that he was still alive.


    He was grateful enough for just that.


    Melmarc looked down at the massive tear in his shirt, a large gash exposing his chest. There was still a large purple bruise where the [Damned] had struck him.


    For the second time in seven days Melmarc had almost come face to face with death. And this time, he hadn¡¯t activated [Knowledge is Power] fast enough to save himself from taking damage.


    The [Damned] had been too fast. It had taught Melmarc that [Knowledge is Power] was not the ultimate defense he thought it was. He¡¯d always known that on cool down he would be left defenseless. He¡¯d also known that it was possible for him to activate the skill a little too late, but it was another thing to experience it, to take the damage and the pain only a split moment before activating the skill.


    Without thinking about it, he touched the bruise and winced. It was tender, and it still hurt like hell even after a few days.


    There were Gifted that healed unnaturally quickly and he was sure this would''ve been a walk in the park for them.


    I guess I¡¯m not one of them.


    Melmarc left the building a moment later, stepping over the corpse of the [Damned] as he did. There was no reason for it, but he¡¯d done it regardless. Even dead, an indicator remained over it.


    It remained grey.


    Outside the ruined building, he pulled up [Rings of Saturn].


    Rings of Saturn (Mastery 09.37%)


    While skill is in effect you cannot use any other skill.


    Conclusion of skill will release lock on other skills.


    Four blasts before every cooldown will be available.


    +10% damage increase for consecutive successful hits.


    When he¡¯d gotten the skill, the mastery had been scaled down and he¡¯d worried his [August Intruder] buff would not affect it. He hadn¡¯t cared in the beginning since he was just happy he¡¯d found a way to defend himself and was excited that he had learned how to use the skill.


    When he¡¯d become accustomed to it, using the skill without thinking too much about it, his [August Intruder] buff had kicked in.


    Against what he expected of himself, he was really curious of what the skill would be capable of at 10% mastery, and what offer he would be given as an alternative skill.


    Right now [Bless Your Kindness] was basically useless, so it wasn¡¯t growing as fast as he would''ve liked it to. His confusion was on a different subject. Why he hadn¡¯t been getting headaches from using [Knowledge is Power] multiple times since entering the portal was a question he still had no answer to.


    For now, he attributed it to the fact that the skill had crossed the 10% mastery.


    I¡¯ve got three skills, he thought as he stepped out into the darkening evening. One''s above ten percent mastery, and the remaining two are almost there.


    He looked up in the direction of the massive palace ruins. It would still be a good while before he got there. But Melmarc wasn¡¯t going there yet. He still had things to do.


    Finding Naymond was one of them, but for the past two days killing [Damned] had been at the forefront of things. It wasn¡¯t that he had a personal vendetta against them, there was just something about a point based reward system even if he didn¡¯t know what exactly the points did.


    He didn¡¯t even know what [EP] was supposed to stand for.


    Experience points?


    Melmarc doubted the thought even as it surfaced in his mind.


    Isn¡¯t that meant to be [Exp]?


    Not for the first time, he was making the mistake of attributing video game rules to what was happening. He needed to stop making that mistake. For all he knew, he could find something new again and expect it to act in accordance with video games and get himself in trouble.


    He shook all the countless thoughts running through his head and reminded himself of his task at hand.


    Melmarc walked under a darkening sky as he headed for the next small, ruined building. If he was lucky, this one would have only one [Damned] like the last one.


    If it did, then he could say luck was confidently on his side. That and his unnatural growth rate, he could say things were going amazingly well.


    At least we know which side of the Unranked growth potential I¡¯m in.


    It was amazing how he¡¯d been a Gifted for less than two months and he already had three skills.


    Alright, Mel. He caught himself skipping. Time to kill some more [Damned] and find Mr. Hitchcock.


    Naymond wasn¡¯t a combat class Delver but it was hard to believe he would be having a difficult time.


    Melmarc looked to the massive castle. He couldn¡¯t have already gone for the orb, could he?


    The castle looked so far away, and Melmarc couldn¡¯t imagine Naymond getting there already.


    At least, he had a strong feeling Naymond was safe and doing better than he was. Maybe together they could actually close the portal.


    As he approached the building, he thought of where he would be sleeping tonight and groaned.


    He really missed sleeping in a comfortable bed.


    Showers, too.


    And brushing. He missed brushed teeth.


    His breath smelled like the [Damned].


    ¡­


    Naymond dived into the building.


    His leg was bleeding out, crushed under a blow from one of the creatures with a massive anvil for a hand.


    There were critters crawling all over his bleeding leg and some where on his hand from when he¡¯d had to push aside one of the monsters while he was retreating not too long ago in the afternoon.


    He had been lucky the monster had been the only one in that building if not it could¡¯ve been worse.


    Naymond hated portals. Now he hated being alone in a portal. What he wouldn''t do for a cup of water right now.


    I really hope Melmarc¡¯s doing better than I am.


    There was a part of him that doubted it, though, but he refused to think negatively. The boy was a [Faker] with no offensive skill. His only hope would be if he could get his hands on a weapon and that jumping attack the monsters used was a skill he could copy.


    If not, everyone inside and outside the portal would be in trouble once Madness found out about this.


    The only good thing about this portal was that it seemed if you were inside it, you didn¡¯t get hungry or need water unless you were in Naymond¡¯s current state, so he could rule out the fear of Melmarc dying of starvation. There were a few portals like this. Theoretically speaking, the ambient mana served as nourishment in some way.


    Melmarc just had to stay away from injuries and he would be fine.


    Please be good, Naymond thought, breathing heavily.


    Then he experienced his first real stroke of luck today. The numbing sensation in his arm disappeared abruptly and the critters fell off, dropped lifelessly to the ground.


    It told him all he needed to know. He wasn¡¯t the only one fighting now.


    Relief washed over him.


    He wasn¡¯t alone, and that was comforting.

 FIFTY-ONE: Bless Your Kindness

    On day eleven Melmarc was tired.


    He had relegated himself to the safer parts of the meadows, ruined buildings already cleared out previously, plateaus that possessed no sign of life. Simple things like that. The ruins of Caldath was yet to run out of [Damned], though. There was always one somewhere, mostly they were usually in a group.


    Melmarc was also, to his greatest annoyance these days, still very far from the castle ruins that reached up to pierce the sky. It was almost as if the closer he got to it the farther it got. But there was one positive to the entire situation, and it was that he was making progress.


    Just yesterday he had stumbled upon an actual gated wall. Well, gated wasn¡¯t really the word. It was a ruined wall with a large and empty space in it where Melmarc was more than certain a gate would¡¯ve been before it had gone to ruin.


    It meant progress.


    The downside, however, was that it was heavily guarded. Protected by at least eight [Damned]. And unlike the ones Melmarc was used to, these ones didn¡¯t carry farming implements attached to their arms or baking implement or some domestic implement or the other. They had actual weapons attached to their arms. Swords, shields, spears, halberds, whips.


    From the little he¡¯d seen past them, there were more creatures like them within the walls, loitering about it eerie monotony. But their monotony couldn¡¯t fool Melmarc. Their jerky and slow fa?ade of motion was the falsehood that hid how quickly they could kill.


    So Melmarc had noted the location and given them a significant distance. As much as he would¡¯ve liked to claim that he wanted to clear the portal, he knew that he didn¡¯t want to.


    Delvers cleared portals. High schoolers who recently turned Gifted did their government mentorship program, went to a school for the Gifted, then proceeded to either become simple but productive members of the society or Delvers.


    Melmarc was only in stage one of the Gifted high schooler guide.


    Melmarc spent his waking moments searching for Naymond whenever he could. With the passing days his efforts slowly started to dwindle. He hadn¡¯t stopped, and didn¡¯t think he ever would, but he knew for a fact that he no longer put in as much desperate effort as he used to.


    These days, he mostly looked for Naymond because he had already been looking for Naymond. If Veebee hadn¡¯t already confirmed that Naymond had gone through the same portal, Melmarc was certain his time spent looking for Naymond would¡¯ve dwindled to nonexistence.


    Being safe gave an entirely new feeling to being in a portal, at least being relatively safe. The bruise on Melmarc¡¯s chest remained a sore purple and he¡¯d already accepted the fact that it would not be healing any time soon. If he was being honest with himself, he was beginning to fear that it would never heal.


    It was always there, a bearable discomfort reminding him not to venture too close to the [Damned] and not to put his entire trust in [Knowledge is Power] for defense. These days he learned to run and hide and attack from a distance.


    [Rings of Saturn] had slowly taken up a snail¡¯s pace when it came to its mastery so Melmarc was stuck with it just a step below ten percent.


    Another new thing he¡¯d learnt was how the days and nights worked inside the ruins of Caldath. In the simplest realization gotten from spending his first successful night without sleeping, he¡¯d discovered that while there was a sunset that he never saw, there was no sunrise.


    It was probably the most discomfiting part of being in the portal, not the [Damned] or their little helpers that kept their prey unable to run from certain death.


    Even now, as Melmarc sat down, hidden in what seemed like a secret room of one of the larger ruined buildings, he worried at the experience.


    The night was dark and he had been in it long enough to know that morning was likely just around the corner. The problem he was experiencing was in the fact that morning did not come the way morning should. In fact, there was no morning.


    Just this place playing tricks on me.


    He blinked quickly, then kept his eyes wide open. On more than one occasion he¡¯d contemplated the fact that he was wrong about the mornings and that sleeping within the ruins of Caldath was an inevitable part of the ruins¡¯ nights.


    You¡¯re not going crazy, he assured himself as he rushed his next blink, refusing to allow any blink last longer than a blink was ever allowed to.


    Another worry he had as he stared up at the starry night sky was food. He¡¯d gone eleven days without it, and quite frankly he was beginning to worry. Not about his physical health but his mental.


    He¡¯d had no food or water for eleven days. While he hadn¡¯t felt it the first few days, he¡¯d been getting the cravings since he¡¯d gotten the bruise on his chest. He was always hungry but never starving. He wouldn¡¯t call it hunger, though. It was more of the urge to eat because he was supposed to.


    Like someone who always ate breakfast, lunch and dinner without missing a beat. Their stomachs were already programmed to want lunch when it was lunch time and want dinner when it was dinner time. Or someone holding their breath under water. They could go on longer but there was always that part of their brain that told them they were supposed to be breathing.


    That was the feeling Melmarc had been contending with for a while now. That annoying feeling of not having food to eat when it was time to eat. It was the same thing for water. Sometimes his mouth felt parched, only for him to lick his lips and realize that there was nothing parched about his mouth.


    That part of his current life was what was really taking a toll on him.


    With the bright afternoon light streaming in through a few cracks and holes in the building, he looked down at his shoes. They weren¡¯t worn yet, surviving all the journeys he¡¯d had and all the running. His current situation and their determined survival would¡¯ve made a good ad¡ª


    Melmarc frowned and his mind sunk a step deeper into what he was now beginning to realize was growing paranoia.


    Once again, he¡¯d missed the arrival of daylight.


    The sky was bright and it was already midday. Again, Melmarc didn¡¯t know if he¡¯d somehow drifted off to sleep during his thoughts or if the weather somehow took advantage of a moment when he blinked to change.


    One thing he was certain of was that it didn¡¯t make sense. If the weather changed when he blinked, then how was Naymond experiencing it? Did he view it as something instantaneous like the flashing light of a camera once a picture was taken?


    Even that line of thought felt off to Melmarc. He genuinely didn¡¯t believe the weather was waiting on good ol'' him to blink so that it could change. There was no way he was that special. Which meant there was something happening with the weather.


    Mind magic? He thought, terrified at the idea.


    There was a reason people were very guarded in the presence of telepathic classes, even other Gifted. You didn¡¯t want to have to face someone that could be attacking you and you didn¡¯t even know it.


    It was worse to think that an entire portal world was messing with his mind when it had inhabitants that were already there to mess with his body.


    Maybe it wasn¡¯t that serious. Maybe the hunger and thirst that were there and yet weren¡¯t there was what were messing with his mind. Maybe the issue wasn¡¯t the ruins of Caldath but his own mind.


    Eleven days inside a portal with no food and water and nobody to talk to was most likely getting to him.


    Melmarc hated to admit it as he got up from the ground to begin the new day that had quite literally snuck up him, but for someone who always thought of himself as an introvert, he was really missing the company of another human being.


    He walked out of the ruined building with sluggish and unmotivated steps.


    I miss Ark.


    ¡­


    Four hours of searching led Melmarc to no positive outcome. There was no Naymond in any of the buildings he searched and he ran into no [Damned].


    Once more, his mind went to the entrance that had no gate, guarded by the [Damned]. He knew the right thing to do was to wait things out in the portal. Naymond was a consultant and he was just a kid, which meant the portal, by all ramifications, had not been claimed yet.


    If he could survive longer, it would only be a matter of time before Delvers from one of the companies came in. It could also be Delvers from the government.


    Melmarc knew it but there was just a part of him that kept on trying to ignore it. A part of him that wanted to know just how much he could do as a Delver. He was already in a portal, reasons aside, and he¡¯d already survived for eleven days. Alone.


    What if he could do more than survive? What if he could thrive?


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was a C-rank dungeon and he was a B-rank Gifted. By all accounts he was supposed to be able to survive it.


    Maybe if he could¡­


    Melmarc shook his head as he walked down the meadows to the next ruin. There was no maybe. No what ifs. The last thing he needed was for the Delvers to come in and find his body and not him.


    He couldn¡¯t do that to his parents.


    Melmarc was a thinker, cautious to a level of annoyance as Delano had once said. He took an idea and spun it around until there was no more spinning to be done and the deadline to make a decision was gone. It was who he was.


    Being a B-rank Gifted had nothing to do with a C-rank portal. People often made the mistake of thinking the ranks meant just how powerful you were. They did not necessarily mean that. There were A-rank Gifted on the ranking list that were placed higher than some S-rank Gifted. The ranks simply meant how powerful your skills were, now how good at executing them you were.


    Also, there was a reason Delvers worked in teams. It would take a team of C-rank Delvers and at least one B-rank to clear a dungeon like this. And sometimes there were casualties in the end.


    A B-rank wouldn¡¯t be able to take on a team of C-ranks without risking defeat so what made him think he could clear a portal just because it was C-rank?


    The answer was simple, he didn¡¯t. Melmarc knew what was making his mind consider clearing the portal and it had nothing to do with clearing the portal.


    It was the [EP].


    Right now, he had a measly [732]. It wasn¡¯t necessarily measly when he considered the fact that a [Damned] gave roughly around fifty points when he killed it, but it was measly in the wider scope of things.


    Melmarc knew there were vastly more [Damned] roaming around the portal and he wasn¡¯t even talking about the ones armed with swords and shields.


    If he kept finding them, he could keep increasing his [EP]. He wasn¡¯t sure what exactly [EP] was, but there was a part of him that thought it could be important. Why else would his interface be collecting them, and quantifying them.


    One of the missions within a portal was defeating the enemy. Melmarc had never heard of [EP] anywhere before, but if defeating the enemy gave them, then why not? Maybe it would even be useful.


    Maybe I can use it to upgrade my skills.


    It was a far stretch, a dream, but it didn¡¯t sound impossible. Unknown things were already happening to him after all. He¡¯d met Veebee, a creature no one had ever spoken about meeting as far as he knew. Common knowledge of portals was that you entered and turned up on the other side, there was no mention of a creature waiting inside.


    He¡¯d also never heard anything about an [August Intruder] and he was one. In the flesh. So it was possible that [EP] was also very important.


    Melmarc thought about it as he stared at the castle in the far distance. In the end, he settled on one thing. He wanted to get more [EP].


    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure why, but there was just something about watching the numbers go up.


    But for that, he couldn¡¯t keep attacking the [Damned] the way he had been going about it so far. If he kept going at it the way he¡¯d been going at it, it was only a matter of time before he ran into a group and didn¡¯t survive.


    Melmarc¡¯s heart beat faster in his chest as he made his decision. It was stupid and dangerous. It was also completely chaotic. It was more Ark than him.


    But today it¡¯s me, he thought as he started making his way for a ruined building he knew was empty.


    If he was going to become a hunter in a portal, then there was one thing that was extremely important. His skills. Knowing how to use them wasn¡¯t enough anymore. Now, he needed to know how to use all of them together, and he needed to know how to do so with the single purpose of defeating an opponent.


    For that, he needed to practice.


    ¡­


    Melmarc stood in the middle of a ruin that had once been a single storey-building. The ceiling that separated the top floor from the bottom floor had since crumbled so that there was no top floor anymore, and the walls that demarcated the rooms were in shambles. But there were still enough walls to do what he wanted to do.


    After reconfirming that there were no monsters to take him by surprise anywhere nearby, he picked up a small piece of broken wall and made X marks on different walls. He made them as clear as possible and as clean as possible so that even from a distance he could see them.


    Then he picked a random spot in the building and stood there.


    This should work, he thought as he looked at the walls around him. Just to be sure, to assuage the fear of being ambushed that constantly lurked at the back of his mind, he activated [Knowledge is Power].


    Melmarc frowned at the increase in weight he experienced from the skill, wondering if it had always been like this. As the blast of mana left him, he remembered how the upgraded version was supposed to allow him use his extremities.


    It begged the question of if he had never been able to move anytime he used the skill. He frowned at the difficulty of remembering. When he¡¯d chased David Swan he had been stopping to blast the skill but that felt more like his own personal limitation.


    The skill hadn¡¯t been stopping him, he had been stopping himself.


    What of when I fought those guys?


    He frowned, thinking of Jake and the two kids that had come at him with a plank. He couldn¡¯t remember stopping when he was fighting them. Yes, he hadn¡¯t moved when the speedster had attacked him but that was because he was bracing for the impact. Knowing he would come out of the attack unscathed didn¡¯t suddenly render him unafraid of the attack.


    He still felt the pain, after all.


    Melmarc was still contemplating when his mana returned to him, telling him what he already knew. He was alone.


    He looked down at the ground around him. There were no red indicators. His time in the portal had taught him one thing. Red indicators on the ground were sure signs that the [Damned] were nearby. Because unless the critters were attached to something taking them away, they never ventured far from the [Damned].


    Melmarc¡¯s hand twitched in a barely restrained need to act and he sighed. He¡¯d intended on beginning his practice the moment [Knowledge is Power] was terminated but his thoughts had carried him away.


    Now he had to wait for the skill to cool down before he could start again. He had something in mind and wanted to follow it. It was good to know how to fight off the bat, but as his teacher in his self defense classes had taught him, it was always good to have a set of moves, combinations that built a pattern in his mind. Once he had those, he could start working on attacking without combinations.


    What Melmarc really wanted to know now, however, was if he really couldn¡¯t move once [Knowledge is Power] was activated. After all, it only said he couldn¡¯t deal damage. It never said anything about being unable to move.


    Then why did the upgrade say I have partial control?


    Melmarc paused. It said partial control. What if that wasn¡¯t a positive but a negative. No one ever said an upgraded skill came with only positives, it was completely possible for there to be side effects, right?


    But if that was the case, wasn¡¯t that going to dissuade him from upgrading the skill?


    Melmarc waited, patiently contemplating until [Knowledge is Power] was available once more.


    Moment of truth, he thought as he prepared himself for what would happen.


    He picked up a small rock, tossed it and caught it twice.


    ¡°Here goes nothing.¡±


    [You have activated skill Knowledge is Power]


    Melmarc¡¯s mana blasted out of him, traveled out in a static white. He took a deep breath and commanded his arm to move.


    He threw the rock.


    ¡°YES!¡±


    Melmarc sighed in relief. He could move, which made the upgrade pointing out the fact that he would have partial control of his extremities more confusing.


    Wait¡­


    Something wasn¡¯t right. He didn¡¯t think it was a negative. At least not the way he was looking at it.


    ¡°Extremities,¡± he muttered to himself, then groaned in annoyance when the pulse of mana came back, giving him information he already knew.


    Suddenly, everything clicked into place, it was as if he suddenly had a better understanding of things in this very moment.


    ¡°Extremities,¡± he realized as if going through an epiphany. ¡°Not limbs.¡±


    When you spoke to someone about extremities they automatically assumed their own body parts such as their limbs. But what if the skill wasn¡¯t talking about extremities in relation to his body? What if it was talking about the extremities of the skill?


    By that concept, what would the extremities of the skill be? Also, now that he knew he could move, what would happen if he wasn¡¯t at the center of the blast when he activated [Knowledge is Power]? Would it all come back to him wherever he was?


    You¡¯re supposed to be practicing combat use of all your skills, he told himself as he checked the cool down for [Knowledge is power], not learning more about the skill.


    Melmarc ignored his own thoughts. He still had time. He might¡¯ve spent a considerable amount of time looking for Naymond today, but there was still enough time before the sun began its descent.


    He could learn about the skill and still practice combat use.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Melmarc rubbed his hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s see what happens when I move too far from the center.¡±


    He prepared himself to activate the skill and paused.


    Hold up. He looked around. When he¡¯d gotten his skills, he¡¯d practiced them with uncle Dorthna and the others, then the extra things he¡¯d learned about the skill were from listening to Naymond.


    Melmarc was a thinker, always fretting over almost everything, but he¡¯d never thought of himself as a genius. He was more of a worrier than anything else. He wasn¡¯t stupid, though, nowhere near that, but this level of thinking wasn¡¯t necessarily his level of thinking.


    He usually thought more in the direction of how safe was something and what were the risks associated in doing them and not doing them.


    But this¡­ this was him thinking in the direction taking risks and how he could take them. It was as if his mind had run out of worries to worry about and he was now worrying in a completely different direction, a direction that was given him answers in a way that was different from what was his norm.


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed at the thought of something else. [Knowledge is Power] gave stat buffs not because of itself but because of [Bless Your Kindness]. [Bless Your Kindness] was currently over 10% which meant it was giving him +1.5 increase to all stats¡­


    That right there was where Melmarc¡¯s mind was going. He couldn¡¯t believe he hadn¡¯t thought of it. 1.5 to all stats.


    He pulled up his details to confirm what he was thinking and smiled when he saw it.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C World of Insight (Mastery -49.19%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    [Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]


    Stats


    Agility 4 (+3), Balance 6 (+3), Mental 3 (+3), Mana 5 (+3), Strength 3 (+3), Dexterity 3, (+3), Accuracy 3 (+3), Perception (+3), Intelligence (+3), Speed (+3), Vitality (+3), Mind (+3), Constitution (+3) ...


    Melmarc almost laughed as he stared at it.


    He¡¯d gotten [Bless Your Kindness] all wrong since the very beginning. It was no wonder he¡¯d almost run David Swan over when he¡¯d chased him down.


    [Bless Your Kindness] quite literally added the stat bonus to all stats. It didn¡¯t matter if he had a point in them or not. All that mattered was that it was a stat.


    And when he put all the stats together, it had a different result. If his speed allowed him, at his base strength, run at twenty miles per hour, that was fast. But what happened if he ran at that speed with an increase to his base strength?


    It meant his legs would have more power to push him faster in a sprint, add that to increased Agility as well as Balance, then that would shave off some speed that would be lost due to variables such as poor form and staggering. You didn¡¯t just suddenly develop the power to run significantly faster than normal and still retain your balance at new speed, yet he had done exactly that when he¡¯d been chasing down David Swan.


    Why hadn¡¯t he even asked these questions back then? Why hadn¡¯t they bothered him?


    At this rate, [Bless Your Kindness] makes me¡­


    ¡°¡­Unstoppable,¡± Melmarc muttered before he could stop himself.


    It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.


    He was basically a close combat monster.

 FIFTY-TWO: An Eruption of Darkness

    Four walls were hidden around each other, leaving Melmarc with the ability to only see one. The remaining three were positioned behind it and none of them were facing him.


    Melmarc tossed up the rock he¡¯d used to mark all four walls and caught it one more time before dropping it on the ground.


    ¡°Here goes nothing.¡±


    He activated [Knowledge is Power] and shook his arms out in preparation for what he would do next, and just because he could.


    He still hadn¡¯t figured out what the ¡®extremities¡¯ part of the skill after 10% mastery was, but he was fairly certain he would have the time for it eventually.


    The moment the burst of mana came back to him, he knew everything he needed to. It barreled into him like a gentle breeze and Melmarc went into action.


    He spun his hand quickly and his skill stirred.


    [You have activated Rings of Saturn]


    A ring formed around his wrist, a pale white, looking like an oversized bracelet. The moment it shone bright enough, Melmarc swung it in a side-arm throw. Despite its present weight, Melmarc felt his arm adjust itself, obeying his intent as he swung.


    With [Knowledge is Power] he had everything he needed. He had marked the location of all four spots on all four walls and was going for something more drastic than the practice he¡¯d done a day before.


    As the ring of mana curved around the wall in front of him, Melmarc was already on the move. He turned, hand spinning, and hopped to the side. The wall was wide and he had been standing farther to one side of it so that he could reach around it easier on his first shot.


    He had a different intention for his second shot, however.


    [You have activated Rings of Saturn]


    [Uses Remaining: 2/4]


    Ignoring the notification, Melmarc swung his second arm, throwing the ring around the wall as well.


    He didn¡¯t wait as he came back down to his feet. His arm was already twirling when he realized he¡¯d overshot himself. He had two more marks but had no idea how to navigate them.


    The sound of something heavy hitting walls were followed up by each other and Melmarc let out a sigh as he stopped his hand from gathering raw mana.


    Rubbing a gentle arm against the bruise on his chest, he walked around the wall. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure the bruise was healing, and he was beginning to worry that nothing but an actual [Healer] would be able to heal him once he got home, but the bruise was often itchy, especially when he used his skills.


    Growing up, Ninra, his sister, always said that if it something was itchy it was more reason not to scratch it. So, lacking self-discipline, Melmarc had developed an alternative. Ninra had said not to scratch it, but she never said anything about not rubbing it.


    So Melmarc rubbed his bruised chest softly and gently as he went to check on the outcome of his little trial.


    He¡¯d spent most of yesterday practicing how to use [Rings of Saturn] until nightfall. Amongst the many things he¡¯d learned was the effects of how he threw it. When he used a side arm throw, or sent it flying as if he was throwing a discuss, it went like an actual discuss, spinning and cutting through the air.


    When he threw it normally or as if he was throwing a shotput, it somehow spun chaotically and didn¡¯t travel far.


    Also, if he made a fist when he threw it, it went spinning chaotically, but if he held his hand open as if making the head of a spear, it went like a disc no matter how he threw it. If he threw it like a disc, he could also make it curve if he wanted to.


    Melmarc got to the first wall and let out a small frown. He placed a hand on the crater the size of his head that was in the wall.


    I guess increase in accuracy doesn¡¯t mean perfect accuracy.


    The crater was a few inches below the mark he¡¯d made. [Knowledge is Power] had given him the exact location of the mark but hitting the mark was the challenge. Yesterday had taught him that it was easier to hit when he could see the mark. Today taught him that stats and skills weren¡¯t completely infallible.


    Having an extra three points in strength didn¡¯t mean you could utilize it completely without practicing. It was akin to a body builder and a rock climber with the same muscle weight. They obviously could not use their muscles in the same way.


    Melmarc tried not to dwell too much on it as he made his way to the second mark. This one he¡¯d missed completely. From what he could tell, the ring of mana had clipped the top edge of the wall.


    Having been at it for almost an hour, Melmarc was more than certain this was the best he could manage. Without obstruction, his aim was acceptable, with obstruction and the assistance of [Knowledge is Power] his aim wasn¡¯t something he could count on unless his targets were as large as a wall.


    Melmarc sat on a dislodged piece of wall as he contemplated his next course of action. First he would rest, allow his mana grow itself back up, then he would head out.


    Maybe it was time to stop looking for Naymond and just make an attempt to clear the portal. There was a part of his mind that assure him of failure but he wouldn¡¯t know if he didn¡¯t try.


    ¡­


    Melmarc walked into another ruin with a sigh. There was a part of him that was ashamed of himself.


    He¡¯d decided to try and clear the portal but here he was, still looking for Naymond.


    In his defense, seeking out Naymond was appealing to three different logical decisions. The first was that making sure that Naymond was alright was the right thing to do. It didn¡¯t matter if he shared a significant part in what had led them to this situation.


    The second part was that looking for Naymond allowed him run into [Damned] in a controlled environment that he now understood almost like the back of his hand.


    Finally, it was an excuse that appealed to the cowardly part of him that didn¡¯t want to have to do with anything related to fighting against a Demi-god alone. A part of him had already accepted that the fight was likely inevitable, but it refused to accept that he had to do it alone.


    It also appealed to the part of him that continued to wait to be rescued. But while it had felt completely normal in the beginning to want to be rescued, there was now a part of him that felt slightly shamed by it.


    He believed he had been given the tools required to save himself, and if he had that he was supposed to save himself.


    [Knowledge is Power] came back to Melmarc and the ground around him lit up with red indicators. They weren¡¯t so many, many thirteen to twenty-five.


    Melmarc ignored them and paid attention to the real threat. He twirled his arm casually and [Rings of Saturn] came to life. The slow growing weight on his hand told him the raw mana was gathering to him and he slowed his action to slow the growth. The brighter the ring shone the more mana it consumed.


    He would still be able to fire off all four uses but how many times would come into question. Unlike [Knowledge is Power] and [Bless Your Kindness] the amount of mana [Rings of Saturn] consumed were not fixed. The more he charged each ring the more the mana cost.


    Melmarc strolled into the ruined building fully aware of the two [Damned] currently searching for him. He stepped carefully, making sure not to step on the red indicators. They would flock to him eventually, but that didn¡¯t mean he had to make their job easier.


    If he was their prey, the least he could do was make them work for it.


    He stepped over another indicator until he was at the entrance to the room that held the two [Damned] he could sense inside. Currently, they had their backs to him, heading in the opposite direction.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    With his hand still moving slightly, Melmarc kept the ring of mana at a steady gauge. With both monsters in front of him, he tossed it casually in an underhand throw. At point blank range, and with little distance between them, the ring struck the [Damned]. But it didn¡¯t just blast a small crater in the creature¡¯s back.


    It spun like a wheel, embedding itself in the [Damned]¡¯s back, spinning and drilling a burning hole until it caught fire. Melmarc was already stepping back as the ring of mana dissipated.


    You have slain [Damned(C)]


    [You have gained EP +59]


    [EP 791]


    Melmarc dived into a roll a moment before the second [Damned] leapt into the air and smashed a baking pan of a hand into the wall.


    In his time within the portal, Melmarc had learned two more things about the [Damned]. The first was there was a time delay between them being aware of their enemy and when they attacked. The second thing he¡¯d learnt was that all their attacks had a pattern.


    The problem with the second, however, was that while he knew there was a pattern, he didn¡¯t know what it was. He also kept running into different groups with different patterns. So far he was able to tell the first two attacks of each pattern.


    All the groups leapt into their attacks and he knew of three different patterns so far. This one attacked with a variation that started with a downward slash that followed into a sideways slash and a pirouette that came down with a hard slam that Melmarc felt would¡¯ve shaken the ground if it was a more powerful weapon.


    The [Damned]¡¯s downward smash hit the ground and it dashed forward for a follow up combination and ran into the wall. The wall shook, a crack spread across it and the [Damned] staggered back.


    Five red indicators attached themselves to Melmarc¡¯s leg and he almost snorted. He ignored them as he picked the foot off the ground and twirled his ankle. A small ring of mana gathered to his ankle, accompanied by the smell of something burning and he kicked forward, swinging his leg from the side.


    It was a high kick and the ring shot out of his leg to slam into the [Damned]. It struck the creature¡¯s shoulder and Melmarc frowned as it staggered a few steps back.


    As for his leg, it was free of red indicators but more were gathering to it.


    Melmarc ignored them, returning his attention to the real threat. The [Damned] smelled of something burnt, smoke oozing from it¡¯s shoulder.


    It eyes locked onto Melmarc, emotionless. Its skull did not shiver or quake, it did not give any indication of the existence of any emotion. Melmarc remained always disturbed by its very existence as well as the idea of fighting moving things without any show of emotion.


    They were more automatons than actual monsters.


    The [Damned] darted forward, baking pan swiping in an underhand swing. Melmarc dodged to the side, placed a large rubble on the ground between them.


    As expected, the creature did not break its combo. It swung five more attacks that ended in a Spartan kick. Its foot slammed into a wall that shook the entire ruin.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand touched his chest, remembering what it felt like to be hit by the creature. He was beginning to understand why he was still kicking.


    Ranks were likely not measured strictly by the stats of an individual. They were a measurement of the capabilities of their skills. Which meant that [Rings of Saturn] would likely not carry the same destruction it did if he was a C-rank, which would¡¯ve made this fight a lot more complicated than it was.


    He backed slowly away from the creature as it turned to face him. Melmarc wasn¡¯t scared of them, not anymore. He still had a little bit of trauma from being struck by one but he felt that was a healthy dose of fear. Personally, he doubted a normal person wouldn¡¯t be afraid of being hurt.


    Melmarc stepped out of the ruin casually, making sure to keep the [Damned] in front of him as it walked around the rubble in jerky steps.


    Red indicators continued to flood towards Melmarc¡¯s leg but he ignored them. He was being cocky and he knew it. But it was hard not to be. Once upon a time these things had scared him.


    They¡¯d made him fall asleep with the heart draining fear that he could wake up in the morning surrounded by them. It was hard not to be arrogant now that he had the high ground. A perfect body shot from [Rings of Saturn] was enough to kill them.


    Currently, he had one in front of him and two more uses of [Rings of Saturn] remaining so fear wasn¡¯t a factor.


    Melmarc charged up a ring of mana and tossed it forward casually. Amongst the things the [Damned] knew how to do intentionally, dodging was not one of them. The only time Melmarc missed was when his aim was poor.


    You have slain [Damned(C)]


    [You have gained EP +52]


    [EP 843]


    ¡­


    Naymond was having one of the worst delves of his entire life. He was propped up against a wall, paying attention to the converging group of monsters as they converged on his location. He¡¯d learned a few things in his eleven days of being here.


    One was that night and day was nothing but an illusion, a vivid mess controlled by something somewhere. Whatever it was, it probably didn¡¯t know how night and day was supposed to work, the switches were too abrupt, and it somehow calibrated them based of the monsters around.


    At night, after the death of evening, the monsters went to sleep. It was the safest time in the portal. Day, however, was not determined by any reasonable logic, but an unreasonable one. With the few days he¡¯d been here, Naymond had discovered that day came when the first monster woke up.


    Naymond wasn¡¯t entirely certain of this theory but he¡¯d seen it happen twice. The moment the monster¡¯s eye opened, day simply appeared.


    There was a glitch to its appearance but Naymond never worried about that. Portals often had glitches people were rarely ever aware of.


    The second thing Naymond had learned was that the portal was a terrible match up for him. He could sense the monsters but not the countless bugs still attached to his leg. They snuck up on him and he was beginning to think there was perhaps some trick to their existence that allowed them sneak past his skill without detection.


    Another reason the portal was a poor matchup for him was because he was literally a [Sage] alone in a portal. Being alone in a portal was a completely poor matchup for any [Sage].


    Not for the first time he paled at the stupidity that had led him into the portal.


    No, he thought.


    It wasn¡¯t the stupidity that had led him into the portal, it was the stupidity that had led him to using Madness¡¯ child to play undercover. At the time, he¡¯d thought nothing could go wrong. He had Navari¡¯s gang in the palm of his hands already. There was nothing they could do that would fall outside of his calculations.


    David had done as was required, Navari was living happy with no competing gangs even if he still wondered what had happened to them, and there was no one in the city¡¯s underworld that didn¡¯t fear the consultant in the suit.


    As for the Romanians, he had a good enough grasp on their operations within the city and had known that they wouldn¡¯t be stupid enough to send one of their own before the deadline.


    Naymond had accounted for all possible and logical variables. Then some druggie had come and thrown his entire plan in a wrench, changed the dates and everything.


    In hindsight, Naymond realized his hubris was what had undone him.


    Even when he¡¯d found out that Melmarc was the son of Madness, he hadn¡¯t been too worried. The boy had been a perfect fit for the job, and the job was relatively safe. Coupled with who his father was, Naymond had assumed the boy would have some survival concept, and he¡¯d been right.


    The boy had handled himself well enough against the opponents he¡¯d been faced with¡­


    ¡­Until the gun.


    He¡¯d only been hoping to give Melmarc some experience while solving the Romanian incident. He¡¯d seen what their drugs had done in some of the villages in Romania. It gave benefits but the addiction that came with those benefits were worse than any drug anyone knew.


    Then there was their main reason. Vampirism designed to boost ranks. There were a lot of problems and being a part of the police force gave him the tools he needed to solve the current issues in Brooklyn before making his way to Manhattan.


    Naymond groaned as the numbness in his leg lightened insignificantly as a few of the critters simply fell off.


    It was a comfort wheneve such things happened. It was proof that there was someone out there taking good care of the monsters around.


    He looked down at the tattered mess that was himself and sighed at another thing he¡¯d learned. The state of the portal.


    It was what he would call a preservative portal. The entire thing wasn¡¯t even real, not necessarily. From his deductions due to his constant pain, the portal was not a naturally occurring mana phenomenon. If it was, it had clearly been altered at some point.


    It was in an arguable state of stasis, judging by what he¡¯d learned from studying his injuries and the entire environment.


    In the simplest terms, the portal simulated what he liked to call a fixed point. Every single thing inside it had a state it was in. A state it was not allowed to grow past or fall below naturally.


    It was the reason his injuries did not fester or heal. It was why his pain did not grow or fall. To establish such a strong hold on such a large space would take a massive amount of mana. The likes of which even an Oath would not have.


    He¡¯d only seen such a portal once before and it had been anchored by the heart of a dying arch-demon.


    One thing Naymond was glad to know was that the portal didn¡¯t have demons. Those were nasty creatures. If he was to make a bet, the entire portal was being stabilized and controlled by the Orb of Caldath. Which meant it was a powerful orb.


    Probably SS-rank by the time it gets out of here.


    Chances were that the orb was more than that, but powering the entire place would definitely have put a drain on it. By the time the portal was cleared, it would be a shadow of what it had once been.


    One of the monsters walked into a wall, shaking the building, and Naymond pulled himself closer to the window next to him.


    He wasn¡¯t going to go through it now, but he would eventually. Once he got his bearings. Right now everything hurt too much to move. For now, he still had time, and the later he was out the window, the better for him.


    Once he was gone, the monsters would have to go around all the walls all the way back to the only entrance large enough to contain their tall size.


    Naymond winced as another monster hit a wall and shook the entire building once more. He pulled his numb leg, dragged it closer to him. Then he shimmied closer to the window.


    In his awareness [World of Insight] showed him eight of the monsters scattered all over the building.


    One was so close that he was beginning to contemplate going out the window when his senses flared in confusion.


    Naymond groaned at the pain, instinctively covering his ears with both hands and pressing his eyes shut as if they somehow turned off the passive nature of [World of Insight].


    They did not. Instead, all of Naymond¡¯s awareness shifted. He lost sight of the monsters and his surroundings as his mind focused on a single thing. He didn¡¯t even know what it was, all he knew was that his senses refused to ignore it.


    It held his attention, a weighted chaos of destruction. It filled his mind and he groaned in discomfort. It was like standing in a very bright room, the kind that allowed no shadows.


    Then it shattered in an eruption of darkness. Simply winked out of existence like an extinguished flame.


    Suddenly there were only seven monsters.


    Naymond paled.


    What the hell was that?


    Some idiotic Delver was engaged in the stupid game of playing with raw mana.

 FIFTY-THREE: Oath of Madness

    The moment [Knowledge is Power] came back to Melmarc, he knew he needed to stop walking.


    Evening was coming to an end and this was the last ruin he was going to be checking for the day. If Naymond wasn¡¯t in it, he was going to clear out any of the monsters inside and hole in there for the night.


    The moment he received the information, Melmarc¡¯s entire plan changed. Sleeping for the night became the last thing on his mind. He sucked in a deep breath, suddenly worried. He was just going to be killing the [Damned] just as he¡¯d been doing for a while. But there was a difference now.


    He rushed forward, hand twirling. [Rings of Saturn] activated, coming naturally now. Melmarc slowed his hand movement as he darted into the ruined building.


    He scrambled in then darted behind a wall as he swung his hand around the corner. The ring of mana left him, relieving him of his weight, and Melmarc was already on the move.


    Speed was important here. There was a new kind of pressure fighting against the [Damned] now that he wasn¡¯t the only thing at stake. He could¡¯ve tested everything he wanted to when he only had himself to look out for.


    But there was more than himself now. And time was of the essence.


    Melmarc heard the sound of heavy things clashing and knew his attack had struck true. His interface flashed in front of him, informing him of the demise of his target and he waved it aside as he ducked into the next room.


    On the ground, the red indicators had doubled their speed after him, scurrying about to hold him down.


    Normally Melmarc would¡¯ve ignored them to a certain extent but there was too much at stake right now. The last thing he needed was to be slowed down.


    The wall he¡¯d darted out from shook violently as a red indicator of one of the [Damned] ran into it, shaking it violently.


    Melmarc gathered another ring of mana to his hand and threw it. He swung it so that it barreled through the air chaotically instead of sharp and cutting like a discus.


    When it slammed into the [Damned], Melmarc watched the red indicator get pushed back. On the other side of the room he was in, another red indicator barreled into the wall, shaking his room. The ceiling of the room was already a mess and it threatened to come down on Melmarc.


    Melmarc spared it only a brief glance, confirmed it wasn¡¯t coming down yet, before darting out of the room.


    He hadn¡¯t gotten a notification of the death of the second [Damned] so he ignored it as he moved.


    There were too many red indicators that he needed to take care of for him to be focused on a single living monster.


    Melmarc darted out of the room, eyes roaming around in his eye socket, tracking the moving red indicators. There were more monsters than his uses for [Rings of Saturn] before its cooldown and his mind was already trying to figure out how to come out of this victorious without his attack skill.


    What had sent him running into the building was the presence of blood that [Knowledge is Power] had given him. He wasn¡¯t sure how he knew but it was still fresh, recent.


    If Delvers had finally made their way into the portal, the last thing Melmarc wanted was to have one of them dying on him. There was just something unacceptable about a savior dying in the process of saving him as far as he was concerned.


    ¡°CAN YOU HEAR ME?!¡± he bellowed, moving a little too close to one of the red indicators as he darted into another room.


    This one had a broken wall that connected it to a second room with a window that led out of the entire building.


    [Knowledge is Power] had only scanned maybe half of the building so Melmarc worked with the outline he had in his head.


    He darted into the room, charging his third ring of mana. A red indicator moved towards the entrance with a terrifying speed that let Melmarc know it was in attack mode, which meant it had seen him passing by.


    Melmarc did his best to pretend that fear wasn¡¯t trying to hold him down. The red indicator flashed at the door. The thin point of a rusted serrated knife cut through the air, almost taking his eye and he dived backwards and into the adjoining room.


    Melmarc threw the ring of mana in a cutting motion as he went through the air before hitting the ground. Pain filled his back at the impact and he groaned. The dive had been a panicked one, an attempt to increase the space between him and the knife wielding [Damned] as fast as he could.


    And it had been a good decision.


    The [Damned] cut through the air as it leapt forward, rusted knife cutting a pattern. The ring of mana slammed into it. The white ring cut into the thing¡¯s hand and made it all the way through.


    It severed the [Damned]¡¯s hand and embedded itself into the thing¡¯s shoulder.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t stop to check if it was successful or anything else, he was already out the window, making his way out of the building. The moment he hit the ground, he took four steps, his mind obeying what he knew of the outline, and vaulted through the next window.


    The moment he was back into the building, he let [Knowledge is Power] blast out of him as he activated the skill, still charging through the room.


    Come on, he thought as he ran through the room. Answer me.


    He didn¡¯t need whoever it was to answer him. In fact, there was a chance that the person wouldn¡¯t. They were probably scared that making any sound would attract the attention of the [Damned]. What they wouldn¡¯t know was that the only sense the monsters had was the sense of sight. Everything they had relied on the critters that still hadn¡¯t managed to attach themselves to Melmarc.


    There was also the possibility that the person was Naymond.


    Melmarc hoped it was Naymond.


    Having [World of Insight] would do a lot in helping him kill more [Damned].


    The moment the thought crossed his mind, Melmarc frowned. Instead of thinking of saving Naymond, he was more concerned about the benefit that would come with it.


    It wasn¡¯t the right way to think.


    You save everyone because they need to be saved, he told himself as the blast of mana came back to him.


    The moment it did, he couldn¡¯t help the smile that touched his lips.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +1.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 08.]


    [You have received 02 Potential buffs.]


    ¡­


    [World of Insight (Mastery 05.03%]


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.


    [Soul Damnation (Mastery 04.00%)


    The damned damns their own soul into further damnation through the damnation of their soul by offering their soul to Caldath.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:01:49.]


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about the fact that he had some level of mastery for [Soul Damnation] as he selected [World of Insight].


    The moment he made his selection, the entire building came alive. Suddenly he knew exactly were everything was.


    He stopped in a hallway between two rooms, hand already generating his last ring of mana from [Rings of Saturn]. The skill had a one minute cooldown and he wasn¡¯t too worried about using the last one.


    There were more than enough places to dash into to keep a distance between him and all the [Damned] without breaking a sweat.


    Where he was standing kept him placed right in front of one of the [Damned] but kept him perfectly hidden from all the remaining ones in the building.


    A frown touched his lips, wiping away the small smile knowing that Naymond was still alive had put there. As the [Damned] leapt into the air, he realized that while he was completely aware of the red indicators hovering over the ground and how they were moving, he was completely unaware of the creatures they belonged to.


    [World of Insight] couldn¡¯t see the critters. Then how had Naymond survived for so long?


    Stolen story; please report.


    Melmarc remembered the current state of Naymond, the state [Knowledge is Power] had shown him of the Sage. He couldn¡¯t say he was truly surprised.


    The nostalgic feeling of being all knowing filled Melmarc¡¯s mind as he simply stepped to the side, avoiding the [Damned]. It soared past him, hand swiping about and cutting through the air.


    Melmarc side-stepped into a free room, fully aware of the [Damned] there only to walk back out.


    The new [Damned] followed him out, swinging, but Melmarc was already running. His senses told him the moment both monsters clashed into each other. He felt it just as easily as he heard it.


    Melmarc turned to face the monsters behind him, and swung a casual ring of mana into¡ª


    Melmarc¡¯s feet buckled under him. He staggered as the faintest glow of a mana ring appeared around his wrist. It was the weakest amount he¡¯d ever drawn, yet it was so terribly bright, and hot, and heavy, and loud.


    The weight of the ring pulled him to the ground and a ringing erupted in his ear. He struggled against the pain, unable to release it. Instinct warned him of his state of vulnerability and he let go of the ring of mana.


    It dissipated, leaving him unarmed, wasting his third use of [Rings of Saturn].


    Immediately his senses returned to him, pain gone and the ringing silenced, Melmarc released [Knowledge is Power] once more and rose from his feet, hand held out.


    He braced himself for the pain that would come and caught a wrist attached to a sharp flat plate in his hand, halting the attack mid-swing.


    A sharp serrated knife slammed against his neck from another angle and Melmarc winced in false pain but refused to cry out.


    Instead, he took the little strength he still had in him and swung the [Damned] he held by the wrist into the one with the serrated blade. Somehow, his very presence and the effect of being unable to cause him damage broke the rhythm of the creature¡¯s attack so that the [Damned] staggered back as if it had run into a wall.


    The creature he threw slammed into the second [Damned] and both of them went tumbling into one of the walls chaotically.


    Fear and anger flared in Melmarc¡¯s mind. Fear from almost dying and anger from almost being killed.


    His moment of nigh invulnerability was coming to an end and he knew that once it ended he would be defenseless against the [Damned] until [Rings of Saturn] was off its cooldown.


    So he turned and bolted out of the room.


    With [Knowledge is Power] and [World of Insight] active, he had a literal map of the entire ruined building in his mind. Oddly enough, it was like a detailed map with blinking dots pointing out every living thing.


    The moving red signified the [Damned] and the single grey holed up in a small room signified Naymond.


    All he had to do was get past the only [Damned] in front of Naymond¡¯s room and he could carry Naymond out through the window.


    They could hightail it from there to the nearest safety.


    Melmarc was already running, sprinting down the small building as his burst of mana returned to him. It came with an odd sense of hyper-awareness.


    He knew where everything was before they were there. It was so deep that it felt as if he could predict every move the [Damned] was about to make. Each one felt programmed, predetermined. And Melmarc felt like he held in his mind the orders given to them.


    Melmarc¡¯s sprint led him weaving through the building. He could¡¯ve gotten to Naymond in a shorter amount of time, but he was in no hurry. The chaos he¡¯d caused had drawn the attention of all the [Damned] to him. In fact, if Naymond wanted to sneak out of the window right now, he doubted any of the [Damned] would be aware of it.


    Also, there were two [Damned] between him and Naymond. If he wanted to dwindle the number down to only one, Melmarc would need to take a roundabout route.


    A lot of rooms and walls here, he thought as he vaulted over a hole in one of the room walls, throwing himself into another room.


    He was beginning to wonder if Naymond had chosen this building for some kind of battle or if he had coincidentally stumbled upon it.


    It mattered very little as Melmarc darted out of the new room, noting how he¡¯d circumvented the second [Damned]. The only one that now stood in his way was the one in front of the entrance to Naymond¡¯s room.


    [Rings of Saturn] was still on cool down which meant he had no attack skill, so Melmarc¡¯s mind ran through all the possible ways he could stop it.


    A thought occurred to him and he ran at the creature.


    A few days ago the idea rummaging in his mind would¡¯ve been madness. Now¡­


    Well, it was still madness, it was just madness worthy of making it to the list of plans floating around in his head. Knowing more about himself and how his skills affected him gave him more options and a little more confidence in those options.


    Melmarc had used [Knowledge is Power] three times already and ten minutes were yet to go by. Which meant the effects that came from [Bless Your Kindness] continued to stack. Right now, while he was unsure of going toe to toe in strength against one of the [Damned] he was very certain he wouldn¡¯t be knocked into oblivion from a single hit.


    Melmarc darted forward, willed his strength and speed into the single action. In the blink of an eye, he was skidding to a stop in front of the [Damned]. His body adjusted to the sudden stop, his leg muscles tightened and his feet scraped a line in the ground, upturning the earth beneath them and roughing up his shoe.


    The [Damned] looked down at him, expressionless, as he came to a stop and raised a single hand.


    The bruise on Melmarc¡¯s chest tingled. He remembered the blow he¡¯d taken a few days ago, the pain and momentary inability to breathe that had come with it.


    The fear of death.


    Melmarc panicked.


    His intention had been to throw the [Damned] over his shoulder in a judo toss as he¡¯d been thought in self-defense. But with the memory of what a single hit could do to him, his composure shifted and instinct acted in place of calculated attack.


    Melmarc went low, spinning into a leg sweep. Pain flared in his calf as it brushed the creature¡¯s feet out from under it but Melmarc ignored it. What was pain in the way of survival.


    It was a practiced combo, ingrained into him from constant use during his lessons.


    Melmarc spun into the attack and came up with a shoulder thrust with his entire upper body weight behind the blow. He struck the disoriented creature and it barreled into the wall, shaking the building.


    Melmarc sensed the framework of the entire building shake but [World of Insight] let him know that nothing significant had come loose.


    It also let him know that there were now more than a handful of red indicators all over his upper body. Even now, it didn¡¯t register the critters as attached to him as they were.


    Melmarc was beginning to wonder if it had something to do with his mastery percent of [World of Insight].


    He checked on [Rings of Saturn] as he paid attention to the remaining [Damned] in the building and their renewed attention in looking for him.


    [Uses Remaining: 0/4]


    [Cooldown: 00:00:57]


    ¡°Less than a minute,¡± he muttered to himself.


    The [Damned] he¡¯d just attacked had made something of a small crack in the wall and was jerkily trying to pick itself up from the chaotic sitting position that Melmarc¡¯s combination attack had thrown it into.


    Melmarc look down at it, thought of the critters all over his upper body, and had an idea. He found himself wondering if it would work.


    It¡¯s kind of brutal, though.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t entirely sure if he had the stomach for it, which was stupid considering everything he¡¯d been through, and the subject of the thought.


    His hand touched his bruised chest and he stopped wondering if he had the stomach for it.


    The [Damned] leaned forward, pulled its head away from the wall, and Melmarc raised his leg.


    He locked eyes with the creature before stomping its head into the wall. Melmarc felt the force of his own attack reverberate through his leg. The creature¡¯s head bounced off the wall from the blow.


    Unwilling to settle for it, Melmarc stomped its head into the wall a second time, then a third, then a fourth.


    He kept his attention on the world around him as he did. With all the critters scattered on his upper body it was surprising to learn that they were still searching instead of making their way straight for him.


    This one must be from a different group.


    Melmarc stomped again. His thought supported the idea that Naymond must¡¯ve dragged the [Damned] all the way to this building for some planned battle. But judging from the state he was in, something had gone horribly wrong during the battle or at some point in time before it that had forced him to make this choice.


    By the eight stomp, Melmarc watched the indicator of the [Damned] go from red to grey before finally fizzling out.


    Then the critters fell from his body.


    I guess I could stomach it, he thought. Wait till I tell Ark.


    Melmarc stepped over the dead creature and into the room. He was oddly anxious. He was in a portal, tossed in due to reasons he did not understand, mistakes he did not truly make, and decisions that he could not say were entirely his fault.


    And he was about to meet a man who¡¯d obviously gone in after him. Whether it was from a sense of duty or something else, Melmarc could not say.


    Still, he remained anxious as he walked into the room.


    He winced at the sight he met.


    Naymond Hitchcock was a mess. A broken mess. There was too much blood and one of his legs was bent at an odd angle.


    But Naymond smiled as his eyes locked with Melmarc¡¯s. He looked proud, but most of all, he looked relieved.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help himself.


    ¡°What happened to you?¡± he asked with a smile of his own.


    Naymond raised a lapel of his tattered coat.


    ¡°This?¡± he asked haughtily. ¡°It¡¯s just a little stain. Nothing a proper dry cleaning can¡¯t fix.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s smile softened into a genuine one. He didn¡¯t know it before, not even a fraction of a second ago when he¡¯d stepped into the room, but he knew it now.


    He, too, was relieved.


    Naymond¡¯s smile remained genuine as he added: ¡°I see you¡¯ve fixed your form.¡±


    Melmarc walked deeper into the room, ready to carry his sub-mentor out, with no idea what the man was talking about.


    ¡­


    Enowor sat at her desk. There was no computer in front of her to type with not that she needed one. the notepad in front of her was all the documentation her mind needed. And her only reason for it was simply because she didn¡¯t want to have to do the paper work when she was busy with things she considered more important, like the latest chapter release of her favorite novel scheduled to come out in the next three hours.


    And whatever deity the author worshipped help them if the chapter was delayed by another day like they¡¯d done yesterday.


    The room she sat in was large and metallic, and she was normally the only one in it. But today was different.


    Today, she was not alone.


    To her side at the other end of the room, a woman sat on a simple stool with crossed legs reading a magazine. She was lithe, with blue hair and deep black eyes. She had a face that was¡ªas far as Enowor was concerned¡ªstrange. It could easily pass for fifty and could just as easily pass for thirty-five.


    How? Enowor had no idea. What she did know was what the woman was.


    Even now, she remained confused about the information she¡¯d gotten from the president¡¯s office. It was a direct communication, ignorant of all the chains of command she knew. In fact, the man that had called in to give her the piece of information was a man fifteen years above her pay grade.


    The communication was simple. The Oath of Shield was coming to her to provide assistance in the matters concerning the Oath of Madness.


    Even now, Enowor wasn¡¯t completely sure what that was about. But she was able to figure out a few things, though.


    There were three messages left for Madness within the span of the last eleven days, none of which she was permitted to open, all of which were on the designated Oath line. A line only used by civilians and was rarely used at all.


    In her time working with Madness, the line had never been active, not even once.


    Then three times in eleven days. Something significantly important must¡¯ve happened back home. The presence of the Oath of Shield supported that theory heavily.


    Enowor¡¯s guess was that it was so important that they had to send the Oath of Shield. Which meant that Madness would not be going straight to the SS-rank portal that had opened up approximately eight hours ago in Boston.


    Seeing as the Oath of Shield hadn¡¯t come with her team, she was likely going to lead Madness¡¯ own.


    Enowor wasn¡¯t completely sure about the entire process, considering she was relatively new to her position.


    Shield had certainly not told her anything either. She¡¯d simply walked into the room and taken a seat. Now, they were both waiting for Madness and his team to return from the portal.


    They¡¯d been like this for the past three days, sitting and eating. Never speaking.


    The Oath of Shield suddenly perked up then smiled.


    A moment later there was a loud thud on the outside. It had enough force to tilt the entire warship to the side and it took the ship a while to realign itself.


    ¡°Quite the entrance,¡± Shield commented. ¡°Is he always this loud?¡±


    Enowor knew the question was rhetoric.


    As for the entrance, she couldn¡¯t blame anyone for it. The portal they were clearing wasn¡¯t a normal portal. For one, it had opened in the sky. Which meant that they¡¯d had to sky dive into the portal. Now that they were done, they dropped from the portal.


    Enowor, waited. As important as it was to get the details of the portal directly from those that had cleared it, she found herself more intrigued by what could possibly be so important that one person had left three messages.


    Shield got up from her seat, placing the magazine calmly on the stool. Enowor watched her stance and was suddenly worried.


    Something didn¡¯t feel right.


    The door handle in front of them turned and Enowor got to her feet as well.


    Madness had returned.

 FIFTY-FOUR: Effects of Insanity

    David Lockwood shrugged his shoulders, then cracked his neck from side to side.


    There was a small crater where he stood while his men above continued their slow descent to the surface of the ship carried down by their parachutes.


    He checked them once more, accounting for every one of the six men under his command, dressed in military attire complete with vests and guns and grenades and flash bangs. Certain that there were no problems, he walked over to the door in front of him.


    David would¡¯ve loved to get back home to his kids, preferably the woman he¡¯d married, too, but he knew the chances of that were very low. For the last few weeks there was always an S-rank or SS-rank portal coming alive each time one was about to be closed.


    Right now, there were too many alive in the country. From what he knew, all the Oaths were booked and there was no ranker of powerful repute that was not helping with their closure.


    At this point, the government was already looking to borrow a few more Gifted from countries they had friendly relationships with.


    The real issue, however, was that the portals seemed like localized issues. They were only happening this rampantly in America.


    It was like someone was trying to effect a Chaos Run.


    It left those in power with two questions: Who and why?


    David turned the handle of the door and stood waiting as the last of his team the dock and unclipped their parachute. The dock was massive and clear. No living thing waited for them, only turrets lining both sides with enough firepower to bring down a ship of the same size quickly.


    David looked down at the door handle.


    ¡°Everyone accounted for?¡± he asked without looking away from it.


    ¡°Yes, boss,¡± Deoti answered, her voice as calm as it always was no matter the situation they were in.


    David nodded. ¡°And Saxi. How¡¯s the leg?¡±


    There was a quiet thud on the ground before Saxi replied.


    ¡°Almost a hundred, boss,¡± he said.


    David nodded. They would need to be a hundred once he opened this door. Every fiber of his being told him Enowor was waiting to give them their new mission.


    David turned the handle and pushed the door open.


    When he stepped in, his team flocking in from behind him, he was surprised by the sight he was met with.


    Enowor stood behind her desk, her trademark notepad resting casually on top of it. She looked equal parts calm and terrified.


    It was as composed as he expected of their team¡¯s [Sage].


    The second presence caught his attention more. The Oath of Shield was one of the few non-combat Oaths in existence anyone knew of. Her skills were strictly on the defensive side. If you were in a dire situation, flanked on both sides, she was among a handful of people you could pray to be by your side.


    Her presence didn¡¯t sit right with David. He had a healer on his team and a tank, both of which he could trust with his life.


    He didn¡¯t need the Oath of Shield.


    Shield gave him a friendly smile.


    ¡°Madness,¡± she said in way of greeting.


    David¡¯s ears twitched at the dissonance. To be an Oath was to embody a concept. It was, to him, as much a blessing as it was a curse. On most days he needed to focus so that he didn¡¯t lose himself to his own dissonance.


    The benefit that came with it was that he knew dissonance when he was in it¡¯s presence. When words and actions didn¡¯t match, he was aware of it. It gave him a high level of immunity to mental attacks as well as illusions.


    He recognized it the way you recognized the feel of the air against your skin.


    And Shield¡¯s smile and words could not scream dissonance any louder, even if they tried.


    That was not a good sign.


    ¡°Enowor,¡± he said, ignoring everything else.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she answered with complete respect and nervousness.


    ¡°Tell me what is important.¡±


    ¡°There is a new portal,¡± Shield interrupted before Enowor opened her mouth. ¡°It¡¯s in Alaska. There are no free Oaths and you are needed there urgently.¡±


    Enowor paused, silent, unsure of what to do.


    Axe stepped forward. He was a large man, brutish. Almost as large as David. He was the tank of the team and did very little in the way of talking.


    He walked up to Enowor¡¯s desk, sparing Shield a quick respectful nod.


    Axe looked Enowor in the eye as he placed his hand on the book. ¡°All here?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Shield answered for her.


    David continued to hear the dissonance. It was intentional. Shield was doing her best to lie through her teeth.


    It left David worried. At least more worried than he usually was. Still, he ignored her, waited for Enowor to respond.


    Enowor shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s also a message on the Oath line for you, sir.¡±


    Everyone paused, surprised.


    David never got a message on the Oath line. He knew Melmarc, Ark, and Ninra had the line. He and their mother had made sure they¡¯d memorized it so well that they could narrate it in their sleep.


    Dorthna had once joked about how he¡¯d once caught Ninra narrating the numbers in her sleep. It was probably a lie, but that was the thing with Dorthna, David couldn¡¯t catch him in a lie since the very existence of the man was a dissonance.


    It was as if his existence believed he was supposed to be dead and alive yet neither. Dorthna was David¡¯s only confusion.


    Dorthna also had the number.


    Worry bubbled inside David. They¡¯d taught the children he had made with the woman he had married to never call the line unless it was a life and death situation. So if he had a message, it had to be a life and death situation.


    ¡°Play it,¡± he commanded.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Shield opposed.


    She sounded calm, yet David¡¯s sense of dissonance continued to ring loud. Shield wanted to be in command but she was antsy, anxious.


    She was waiting for something, praying it would happen yet uncertain of the consequence.


    David pondered on it for a moment. The message was clearly more important than the portal. Shield¡¯s presence here and her reactions said it all.


    But what could be more important than the portals? No. That was not the right question. What could¡¯ve happened that would be more important to deal with than the portals?


    David frowned as he considered the possibilities.


    My wife?


    It was unlikely but not impossible.


    ¡°Where is the Oath of War?¡± he asked.


    ¡°There is no Oath of War,¡± Shield pointed out.


    David ignored her.


    ¡°The Boss asked you a question,¡± Deoti said to Enowor. ¡°Regardless of the current situation, none here will take kindly to you refusing to answer his questions.¡±


    Enowor paled.


    ¡°The Oath of War is still in a portal in Ohio,¡± she said.


    She was too timid for a [Sage]. Either that or the [Sage] David had grown accustomed to long before her arrival was the outlier.


    If his wife was still within her portal, then it couldn¡¯t be about her. That left his kids. Was it a kidnapping?


    Had some religious group learned of Ark¡¯s class and taken it upon themselves to rid the world of him?


    It was another concept that seemed¡­ unlikely. Dorthna was still around so it was almost an impossibility. He had his issues but¡­


    David shook his head. It would be impossible to kidnap his children. Not even Ninra. It wasn¡¯t supposed to be impossible, at least not anymore. But Dorthna had chosen to leave it that way and so it remained.


    David looked at Shield for the first time. In his senses she was dissonant. She cocked a brow at him. He ignored it.


    What did he know of Shield. Her Oath was not combat designed, neither was her class. She knew enough combat techniques to be passable, but her strength laid in her defense. There were Oaths that had worked with her that called her an immovable existence.


    Personally, David hadn¡¯t experienced her enough to know.


    You only sent immovable existences when you wished to stop an unstoppable force. Once they met, one was doomed to supersede the other.


    It was a no brainer. Someone had sent Shield to stop him in the event that he needed stopping.


    Knowing how much the government struggled to communicate with him, it seemed they¡¯d come to the conclusion that he would not listen to reason. In their defense, he had never been one to listen to reason. War had always been the reasonable one of the both of them. The rest of the world communicated with him through her when they wanted him to see reason.


    But War wasn¡¯t here.


    Something had happened to one of their children.


    It was a thought that was not dissonant with the world. He only needed to find out what it was.


    ¡°The last Chaos Run,¡± he said.


    ¡°On the outskirts of the country,¡± Shield said before Enowor could answer. ¡°SS-rank. We had no Oath on hand and the team we sent in failed to pass the Quest. It broke out at the heart of a mountain. Three companies along with Dragon-Knight were sent to deal with the Run.¡±


    David didn¡¯t look at her. He was more interested in a way to shut her up so that his [Sage] could speak.¡±


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


    Deoti spared him a quick glance.


    ¡°With all due respect, ma¡¯am,¡± she said to Shield, ¡°could you be kind enough to speak to him only when spoken to.¡±


    Shield scowled. ¡°You forget your place, S-rank.¡±


    Axe was still at the table, hand on Enowor¡¯s jotter.


    ¡°No, ma¡¯am. You forget your place.¡± Axe looked at her, met her eyes. ¡°It is rumored that S-ranks cannot beat an Oath. But you¡¯re just one Oath, brimming with disrespect. The [Sage] here is the only A-rank. In case you¡¯ve forgotten, the rest of us are S-ranks, and we¡¯ve also got an Oath. Decorum would be advised.¡±


    ¡°I am government sanctioned.¡± Shield reached into her pocket casually and pulled out a badge, it was a diamond shape with a burning eagle at the center. ¡°I speak for the head of the Oath division in this moment. To go against my words is to go against the words of all the Oaths. To attack me is to attack all the Oaths.¡±


    ¡°Dissonant.¡±


    It was one word, uttered from David. It was a word every member of his team knew.


    There were incomplete truths or blatant lies in Shield¡¯s statement.


    David knew the Oaths. Some of them, like himself, worked for the government. But most of them worked with the government.


    They were not a unified force regardless of the existence of an Oath division within the country.


    Shield was stretching the truth as far as she could take it.


    ¡°What happened at the Chaos Run?¡± David asked.


    Enowor knew what he was asking of.


    ¡°It appeared again,¡± she answered.


    A small grumble went through David¡¯s team.


    ¡°You think it¡¯s what¡¯s opening the portals?¡± Deoti asked.


    David grunted.


    ¡°Picture?¡± he asked Enowor.


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    She bent and flipped through the pages of her jotter. Axe gave her the space she needed. After a while she stopped on a single page and moved the jotter back to Axe.


    Axe took a moment to look at the picture before handing the jotter over to David.


    David took it, noting how silent Shield had fallen now that he was focused on work and nothing else. That answered everything. His family was in danger and people with power had deemed the closure of the portals still springing up to be more important than the safety of his family.


    David looked at the drawing. It was a drawing of a large creature. It looked eerily like a dragon but its head wasn¡¯t as squared at the jaw. It was more rounded, young or effeminate. It possessed no obvious muscles but neither was it fat.


    ¡°How large?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Three storeys,¡± Enowor answered. ¡°Maybe four.¡±


    ¡°The same one?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    David didn¡¯t like it.


    The creature looked like a western dragon without the terrifying jaw line. And it had horns that protruded from the sides of its head, curving down to point forward in the direction of its snout. Since the sketch was done with a pen, the entire thing was blue, which was clearly not it¡¯s color.


    It was very familiar. Too familiar.


    ¡°And what was the report on it?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The same, sir,¡± Enowor answered. ¡°It came out of the Chaos portal, sniffed the air, turned its head from one side to the other¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­Then went back in,¡± Deoti finished for her.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Enowor confirmed.


    Saxi frowned. ¡°It¡¯s searching.¡±


    ¡°And the other monsters¡¯ reaction to it¡¯s presence?¡± David asked.


    ¡°The same,¡± Enowor confirmed. ¡°They remained silent and stationary until it was gone.¡±


    In the last month, the same creature had been present at all Chaos Runs. It would step out, do the exact same thing, then leave.


    Saxi was right, and they had deduced it long ago. The creature was searching and no one knew what it was searching for.


    David had an idea, though. He had a very strong idea of what it was searching for. As far as he was concerned, it was now official. They might not know it, but the entire country was faced with a creature strong enough to manipulate portals.


    It could force enough S-rank and SS-rank portals to open but could not go through them. However, it seemed it¡¯s intention¡ªwhat was within its power¡ªwas the hijacking of Chaos Runs. It could come through them and it was coming through them.


    The country had a powerful demon on their hand.


    David nodded once, then looked up from the jotter. ¡°I will give the Sage a single command. If she hesitates or declines, I will not be held responsible for my actions. Is this understood?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± his entire team chorused.


    ¡°Don¡¯t fear,¡± Shield told Enowor. ¡°Nothing will happen to you. If they try, I will protect you.¡±


    There was no dissonance in Shield¡¯s promise to protect the Sage. That, at least, was good. But the first part of the statement dripped with dissonance.


    David couldn¡¯t say he cared. There were a lot of things he stopped caring for when he¡¯d been burdened with the mantle of Oath so many years ago.


    ¡°Play the messages,¡± he said simply.


    Enowor reached trembling hands to the side of the desk and a familiar voice erupted around the room.


    Shield sighed in exhaustion.


    David recognized Dorthna¡¯s voice the moment he heard it.


    ¡°Hey, Madness, it¡¯s me,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve got a bit of a problem and I need you to not lose your shit.¡±


    There was a paused, as if he was unsure of how to say the next words. In the end, he just ripped the band-aid off.


    ¡°It¡¯s Melmarc,¡± he said, standing at the edge of the roof of a skyscraper and staring at the dying sun. "I can''t find him."


    David froze.


    Melmarc was missing. Why? When? Where?


    He frowned.


    ¡°Enowor. I need¡ª¡±


    ¡°We already have people working on it, Madness.¡±


    Everyone paused, looked at Shield.


    She shrugged. ¡°What? We like to look after our own.¡±


    That¡¯s not what they heard, though. David had always known, but for Shield to say something that pointed out that the calls received on the Oath lines were constantly being monitored with zero secrecy was¡­ stupid.


    An unreasonable point of action, David corrected. A mistake.


    Could also be stupid, he added.


    ¡°Boss?¡±


    David turned to Saxi.


    ¡°Melmarc,¡± Saxi said. ¡°As in Mel?¡±


    David nodded.


    He turned back to Enowor. The first voice message as short and concise, straight to the point. Dorthna only tended to bicker and talk a lot on subjects that weren¡¯t important. If it wasn¡¯t, he was always to the point.


    ¡°Play the next one,¡± David instructed.


    It came alive almost immediately.


    ¡°Me, again.¡± Dorthna sounded too serious. ¡°I know you¡¯ve got a problem on your hands so I¡¯ll get to the next phase, figured it should be important. Your oldest is the only normal one. Mel¡¯s a [Faker]. Who would¡¯ve thunk it. Both of them have begun their government mentee program¡­ What else? He¡¯s in Brooklyn right now¡ªMel, I mean¡ªserving under Alfa¡¯s mentorship. That¡¯s his last location.¡±


    ¡°Information on Firdausi Alfa, her precinct and the mentorship program running there,¡± David said, voice still calm. Always calm.


    ¡°Yes, Boss.¡± Deoti pulled out a small tab from one of her vest pockets and started tapping away. It was attached to her vest by a small cord.


    ¡°I would advise against that,¡± Shield commanded.


    Deoti gave her an odd look. ¡°You¡¯re being quite disrespectful to a fellow Oath, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re being quite impudent for an S-rank.¡± Shield looked at all of them. ¡°In fact, your entire team is quite impudent.¡±


    Deoti was silent for a moment. Then she shrugged. ¡°I guess. Blame it on Madness. He spoils us. Got it, Boss. Your kid¡¯s there. Annnnnd¡­ there¡¯s an active portal opened in a residential area from the news around that area.¡±


    ¡°A portal in a residential area?¡± Saxi asked.


    Deoti nodded. ¡°Yea.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s rare,¡± Lisa, their communications specialist, said. ¡°Very.¡±


    ¡°Given the recent issues,¡± Axe shrugged massive shoulders, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t rule it out as impossible.¡±


    ¡°Still rare,¡± Lisa said.


    ¡°It¡¯s also already happened so let¡¯s move on,¡± Deoti said.


    ¡°Did we miss the part where I said it¡¯s already being worked on?¡± Shield said.


    She took a step forward and everyone moved into action.


    Deoti¡¯s pad fell, hanging loose from a tag that kept it attached to her vest.


    Six guns pointed at Shield and she froze.


    She looked at all six of them before settling her attention on David.


    ¡°What is the meaning of this, Madness?¡±


    David looked at his team. The woman he married always said he needed a stronger hold over them. In his bid not to prove too controlling, he¡¯d made them his friends and had let the hierarchy get strained and very loose.


    The outcome was this. His team drawing weapons on an Oath that they saw as a threat.


    ¡°With all due respect, ma¡¯am,¡± Axe said, voice steady, ¡°why exactly are you here?¡±


    Stupid question, David thought.


    He doubted there was anyone present in the room who didn¡¯t know why she was here now. He was debatably the most violent Oath. Once upon a time he had been second only to the woman he married. Now he was the only one.


    It did not make him the most powerful, just the most violent.


    And they were on a battle ship dedicated to Oaths. This one was dedicated to him but it didn¡¯t change the fact that it belonged to the government and it cost in the hundred of millions of dollars.


    And there were other people on board.


    So they¡¯d sent Shield because her skills guaranteed the lowest casualty rate and damage in the event that things devolved into violence.


    David was at least grateful to them for that.


    Shield sighed. ¡°Control your team, Madness. This is unbecoming.¡±


    It was.


    ¡°Play the final message,¡± David said.


    Enowor nodded, too afraid of the looming chaos to speak, and Dorthna¡¯s voice echoed once more.


    ¡°Found him,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Now I cannot stress how much I need you to not panic, Madness. Your boy¡¯s in a portal. Now¡ªI said don¡¯t panic!¡±


    David paused. His hands were balled into fists and all eyes were on him. Even his team members had begun glancing at him.


    David took a deep breath and relaxed his fists.


    Dorthna¡¯s voice came in a moment after. ¡°Now, as I was saying¡­¡±


    Shield looked at Enowor with a frown.


    ¡°How did he do that?¡± Deoti asked, surprised.


    Axe shook his head. ¡°Only person I ever seen do that was War.¡±


    ¡°¡­I¡¯ve confirmed that he¡¯s in the portal,¡± Dorthna went on. ¡°You¡¯ve got nothing to worry about, though. He¡¯s a B-rank and the portal¡¯s a C-rank. He should be fine until you get here. At least that¡¯s if I¡¯m right about him.¡±


    David took a moment to think as the message shut off.


    ¡°Who the hell is that guy?¡± Shield asked.


    ¡°Friend.¡± David turned away and started towards the door. ¡°Fendor, I need a way out of here. How far can you get us?¡±


    ¡°All of us, Boss?¡± Fendor asked, confused.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    David¡¯s hand bounced off the air before it touched the door handle.


    He¡¯d felt it on activation, but the activation had been fast. Quick enough to act the moment it was cast.


    Oath empowered.


    The question was if it was an Oath skill or a regular skill.


    David turned back to the others. ¡°Stand down, everyone.¡±


    The guns lowered quickly. Enowor remained frantic.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Shield said. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to be gentle when I report this and assure everyone that there will be no repeat.¡±


    ¡°Put down the barrier, Shield.¡± David could see it. It shimmered lightly along the air. It was a perfect dome, surrounding him and his men.


    ¡°Look at the bigger picture, Madness,¡± she said. ¡°There are bigger things at stake.¡±


    ¡°Fendor,¡± David said.


    ¡°Yes, Boss.¡±


    ¡°Can you get us out of this space?¡±


    Fendor shook his head. ¡°No way, Boss.¡±


    David thought as much. Which meant he would have to handle this himself.


    He returned his attention to Shield. ¡°Stand down, Shield.¡±


    ¡°There are portals opening up by the minute, Madness. You cannot abscond when the world needs you the most.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit of a stretch,¡± Deoti said. ¡°It¡¯s just the country. And his just one Oath.¡±


    Shield sighed. ¡°Why do you always want to keep talking when your betters are talking?¡±


    ¡°Betters isn¡¯t the word you¡¯re looking for.¡±


    ¡°I understand that your son is lost in a portal, Madness,¡± Shield said, ignoring Deoti, ¡°but there are people there for that. You can¡¯t abandon this for him. What of the rest of your family? What of their safety.¡±


    David walked past his men until he stopped at the edge of the domed barrier. He stood there for a moment, staring at the thin mana membrane between him and Shield.


    Shield stepped up to it so that only the membrane stood between them. She probably thought he was thinking about it right now. Weighing the lives of one family member over the others.


    War had told him once upon a time, when she had ceased to be an Oath, that on the night she had fought against the Player, she had been faced with the decision of being a mother and being an Oath. She had chosen her role as an Oath.


    Things had turned out well, but till this day, she didn¡¯t believe she would¡¯ve made the same choice if faced with it once more. Making it then had taken everything out of her.


    But the real thing was that there was no thinking to be done. Their children were not in the same boat of most other children.


    ¡°My family is fine, all except one.¡± David intended the words to be as casual and calm as they could be. ¡°One is outside the protection I have secured.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the world against one soul, Madness,¡± Shield said in exasperation. ¡°I understand that he is your child but there are other people that can sort this out. Your son will be safe. You can¡¯t risk this.¡±


    David didn¡¯t have much to say because the Oath would not understand it. She could not. So he could at least tell her something she would.


    ¡°I am an Oath,¡± he said, placing a gauging palm flat against the dome. ¡°I do not protect the world and my family from portals. I protect my family from portals. Protecting the world is merely the side effect of that.¡±


    Shield sighed. ¡°I told them there was no conversation to be had on this. Restrict the message and keep it from him. But they wouldn¡¯t listen. Wanted me to talk some sense into you, like I could. Do you know why none of the Oaths ever want to face you, Madness?¡±


    David didn¡¯t care. The barrier was strong. He could feel it from just touching it.


    ¡°It¡¯s because of your wife. She had good will.¡±


    David¡¯s ear pricked at the dissonance but he showed nothing in the way of his expression. Instead, he spoke to his team without taking his eyes of Shield.


    ¡°Enowor, please take the door behind you and leave. This is no place for an A-rank right now.¡±


    Enowor was quick to hurry out of the door on her side of the room.


    ¡°I would argue that it¡¯s no place for S-ranks either,¡± Shield said, looking at the others.


    David wouldn¡¯t go that far. But judging by the absence of dissonance in her voice, she probably believed her own words.


    ¡°Fendor, prepare to transport us.¡± David pressed gently against the shield. ¡°Everyone, prepare for impact and movement.¡±


    His team aligned themselves, gathered to Fendor.


    David looked Shield in the eye.


    [Oath skill Effect of Insanity is in effect]


    [Effect of Insanity]


    Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different outcome. The Oath is granted 35% damage increase for every consecutive repeated action.


    David drew his fist back and Shield sighed.


    When he threw it forward, his fist struck the shield in a punch vicious enough to send an elephant flying.


    The shield shook but nothing else happened.


    He cocked his fist back once more, calmly.


    ¡°You waste your time, Madness,¡± Shield told him. ¡°Reinforcement is already on its way.¡±


    David struck again.


    ¡­


    Ruth had cast [Gathering of Nature] the moment Madness had turned around.


    It was her strongest barrier, the skill that had given her the title of Immovable Object. It wasn¡¯t really a title, though. It was more of a nickname, but it was apt. Nothing penetrated it. It was the ultimate shield, and the reason she had been sent to stop Madness.


    When Madness struck it, she didn¡¯t even flinch.


    He was the most violent Oath alive, kept sane only by his wife. Whenever the government needed information passed to him or wanted him to comply, they explained it to her so that she explained it to him.


    The other Oaths stayed away from altercations with him because of his state of violence as well as his Oath. He was literally unreasonable and irrational in a fight. Difficult to predict.


    It seemed he mistook that to mean he was powerful.


    It was unfortunate that at some point in time, the shield would start dispersing the force of his punches and the ship would slowly begin to be affected. It could cause some losses.


    As Madness threw his third futile punch at her shield that was powered by the very fabric of reality around them, she was more certain of the effect madness had on him. He lost his reasoning when he fought.


    It was a sad thing to witness...


    ¡­Until she saw a crack.

 FIFTY-FIVE: Raw Mana

    Ruth staggered away from the barrier, surprised at the crack in her skill.


    [Gathering of Nature] was supposed to be able to withstand anything. Yes, there was the small loophole that occurred if you were able to strike a single spot continuously and overtime, but that was more a loophole based on her than the skill itself.


    But here Madness was, leaving a crack in her skill. It had to be a skill he was using. [Gathering of Nature] had faced far worse attacks than a punching Oath, after all.


    Madness remained calm and his eleventh punch sent the crack spreading further.


    Ruth wasn¡¯t sure what she was going to do. She could bring down the barrier and replace it with another, but that would allow Madness¡¯ team execute whatever command he had given them. That one guy, Fendor, was supposed to use a skill he couldn¡¯t use while the barrier was up.


    Since the barrier was designed to keep everything inside, Ruth felt safe to assume it was some kind of high-end transportation skill. As an S-rank, it was likely some form of teleportation.


    The last thing she needed was Madness teleporting away from her sight.


    Madness struck the barrier once more. Each punch was now sending tremors throughout the entire room as the shield displaced the force of the blow through the ambient mana in the room. Judging by the cracks still growing, Ruth was certain the tremors weren¡¯t confined to just the room.


    ¡°This is madness,¡± she said, attempting to talk some sense into the Oath when whatever else she wanted to say died on her lips.


    Of course it was madness, the fool in front of her was the Oath of Madness. What else was she expecting of him?


    Madness ignored her, cocked his fist back for his fifteenth blow.


    Now Ruth was flustered. She knew she had said that reinforcements were coming but they wouldn¡¯t make it fast enough. The only reinforcement she had were the few men who¡¯d flown her onto the ship on a helicopter.


    They were on a massive ship in the middle of nowhere. Reinforcements would take forever to make it here.


    ¡°I guess there¡¯s no helping it,¡± she muttered to herself.


    Without hesitation, she manipulated the shield. She funneled her own mana into the barrier, replacing its connection to the ambient mana with a connection to herself. By the very nature of an Oath, their mana was extremely powerful. The only mana stronger than an Oath¡¯s mana was concentrated raw mana, or another Oath¡¯s mana. And even that wasn¡¯t by a very large margin.


    So, where the ambient mana would have time and last long holding itself back against the force of an Oath, she had the tendency to last longer.


    Madness struck the barrier once more, ever so calm, and the force of the blow spread all over the barrier. The entire process of mana connections the shield went through dulled the force of the blow before it finally settled on Ruth¡¯s connection to it.


    Ruth¡¯s knees almost buckled under her. She staggered back, eyes wide in shock at the pain that filled her, and caught herself against the wall.


    She¡¯d taken a direct hit from Inevitable once upon a time and he was known to be the Oath with the strongest raw power. But that was that, and this was this.


    ¡°Madness sto¡ª¡±


    Madness punched again, cutting her off.


    The impact to Ruth was like a loud roar that pierced the chest and reminded a person that they were always going to be prey to something even if they didn¡¯t know what that something was.


    Ruth shook her head, trying to displace the disorientation that came with the blow. Inevitability was powerful, but Madness was displaying power and precision. If Inevitable punched the chest, Madness was punching the heart.


    She felt both blows in the same exact way. Her very existence worked like a shield, put together and sturdy. What Madness was doing was exactly the weakness of the skill. He was striking a specific spot over and over again with all his strength.


    No! Ruth scolded herself.


    She would not succumb to a fellow Oath. Not so easily.


    She stepped forward, took the next punch like a shield, hunkered down and braced. Then she went to work immediately.


    Ruth raised her hand, connected herself to the mana around her, then brought it down.


    Madness paused but only momentarily. But it was all the pause Ruth needed.


    The barrier around Madness and his men solidified. Became a tangible and visible thing. The cracks healed into nonexistence and Ruth shrunk the barrier, reduced its size.


    If she could squeeze it all in, then Madness wouldn¡¯t have the space required to throw a punch with his entire team inside with him.


    [Gathering of Nature] had another function that channeled the force of any attack and turned it in any direction she chose. It was only unfortunate that it wasn¡¯t target specific, just directional. So she could turn the force of Madness¡¯ blow inwards, but that was a risk she wasn¡¯t willing to take.


    If what he was doing was too powerful, it could kill his team. If that happened, then she was more than certain that she would make a literal enemy of the Oath. She would also lose the respect of other Oaths.


    Curtsey amongst Oaths dictated that if you had a problem with an Oath, you took it out on the Oath. You did not attack those around them.


    This put her at a handicap she wasn¡¯t sure how to navigate.


    She also had other options but those options would put the entire ship in jeopardy. The nonexistent crack came back to life. This time it spread quickly from a single punch and shook Ruth''s mana so terribly that this time she felt her knees shake.


    I just have to hold out, she told herself, knowing she would most likely face failure.


    It was as if the force of Madness¡¯ blow increased with each strike. Ruth wasn¡¯t sure how many of his punches she could take. She was the Oath of Shields, sturdier than any shield she could create. By the very virtue of her existence in the world, she was what all tanks aspired to be.


    Unbreakable.


    Ruth could take a great deal of damage. Greater than most people knew. And that was without activating her skill designed for that very purpose.


    Normally, she never activated the skill. But there was nothing normal about this.


    [Skill Aegis of the World is in effect]


    Ruth sucked in a deep breath as she felt herself literally get reinforced. The ambient mana in the room channeled itself to her, drawn in from everywhere.


    She was slowly being reinforced by the world itself. If only she could be reinforced by raw mana, the skill would make her unstoppable.


    Madness punched again and the blow went straight through every single shield she¡¯d pulled together and Ruth felt her mana crack.


    Ruth dropped to her knee even as she shared the force of the blow with the world around her.


    In front of her, she felt the entire barrier crumble and there was nothing standing between her and her opponent.


    Ruth almost paled at the idea of what had just happened. She had reinforced herself with as much of this part of the world''s mana as she could handle and Madness had punched through it. The Oath had arguably thrown a punch capable of destroying this part of the world.


    What are you?


    She stared up at Madness and he stared down at her. His face was as empty of expression as it always was. A blank canvas any deity would be happy to work on.


    He had done all this without making any expression. But the beads of sweat on his forehead told Ruth that his actions had also taken a toll on him.


    Ruth would¡¯ve laughed if she wasn''t still in pain from that last punch.


    She¡¯d lied when she¡¯d said the Oaths avoided problems with Madness because War had built up good will with them. The truth was that they didn¡¯t fight Madness because there were no rules to fighting Madness.


    Madness obeyed no rules in combat, fighting only by rules he dictated to himself as at the time of the fight. Madness could fight you as honorably as he could fight you dishonorably. And you did not fight a powerful enemy you could not predict.


    Staring up at him, Ruth found herself unsure of what would happen next. She could act, make a move, but she was in a bit of a pickle.


    It was like the old western draw. No one moved until someone moved. In such a situation, who moved faster was all that mattered not who moved first. With other Oaths, she knew what to expect ,but Madness was an entirely different fighter.


    With other Oaths she would not die. With Madness, anything could happen if she was too slow.


    ¡°Co-ordinates locked, Boss!¡± Fendor exclaimed, then held his arms out to his sides.


    Madness didn¡¯t flinch, didn¡¯t experience the distraction Ruth needed to activate another skill. His eyes remained fixed on her.


    ¡°Take us there,¡± was all he said.


    Ruth felt Fendor¡¯s skill before it activated. The mana tensed and swayed, defying all natural physics to achieve something magical.


    Then a black-hole opened behind him, sucking the air in the entire room into it.


    Despite that, Ruth didn¡¯t feel drawn in by it, she didn¡¯t have to resist it.


    A member of Madness¡¯ team disappeared, drawn into the black hole as if ripped from the world. Then another. The lady that had been giving Ruth mouth since the beginning, Deoti, was the third.


    Everything happened quickly. And while Ruth was still thinking of how best to stop Madness without anything too critical going wrong, he lowered himself to her level where she was on her knees.


    ¡°You stood between me and protecting my family,¡± he said. The words were simple. He was simply stating a fact.


    Ruth made one more futile attempt. ¡°Your boy will be fine. We have people for such situations.¡±


    Madness didn¡¯t look like he was listening to her.


    Behind him Fendor was ripped into the portal.


    Madness met her eyes and his eyes were too sharp, too steady.


    His final words before being ripped into the portal were simple and unforgettable.


    ¡°I will remember that,¡± he told her.


    Then he was ripped from her sight.


    The blackhole disappeared, and Ruth was left alone in the room wondering what would happen when Madness returned from trying to save his child.


    She pushed herself from her knees so that she sat down on the ground as all her skills deactivated and let out a sigh.


    Maybe it was time to try and get in touch with War once she was out of her portal. She wasn¡¯t an Oath anymore but she was still Madness¡¯ wife.


    Ruth shook her head at the thought.


    Everyone always said that a mother¡¯s love was greater and more unreasonable than a father¡¯s love.


    Who knew what would happen if War found out she¡¯d prevented her husband from saving their child.


    This was futile.


    So with no possible recourse than to report back to the department that handled Oath interactions in the country, Ruth sat there and wondered what Madness planned to do about her once he came back.


    It wasn¡¯t that she was scared of him. She merely wanted to be prepared.


    ¡­


    ¡°Sorry to be the irresponsible adult one more time but do you have a plan?¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve chuckled if they weren¡¯t in such a serious situation.


    [World of Insight] was telling him that for some reason the [Damned] were a little confused. Though confused wasn¡¯t the word he would used. There were simply searching once more.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Melmarc looked at the red indicators on the ground and watched them simply scramble about. On more than one occasion they moved right under him and kept on going, they didn¡¯t even bother to attach themselves to him.


    That wasn¡¯t right.


    ¡°You can see them,¡± Naymond said after a moment.


    Melmarc started, looking back at him. ¡°Uhhh¡­ yes.¡±


    Naymond chuckled painfully. ¡°I can¡¯t sense them.¡±


    Melmarc looked down at them once more as they scrambled around. Then he looked at Naymond¡¯s leg.


    His gaze trailed up to Naymond¡¯s face and found the Sage¡¯s attention on his hand. Melmarc looked down at it, unsurprised to find his hand still moving slowly, keeping a white ring of mana active.


    He kept the cadence simple, slow enough to keep the ring from getting stronger and brighter, fast enough to keep it active.


    ¡°That¡¯s a neat trick,¡± Naymond said.


    Melmarc cocked a brow at Naymond¡¯s battered form, unsure of if he was being serious or not.


    ¡°Not a trick,¡± he said, returning his attention to the door.


    There was a red indicator drawing closer. A [Damned] was venturing towards the room, searching. What Melmarc couldn¡¯t understand was why the critters hadn¡¯t attached themselves yet. Why they were simply not there yet?


    ¡°So it¡¯s a new skill?¡± Naymond asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Got it when I got here.¡±


    Naymond made a thoughtful sound, as if considering something. ¡°So that makes ten percent in less than two months. Definitely an S-rank growth potential. Maybe an SS-rank. Impressive.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t disagree. What was not impressive, however, was that Naymond looked like he could die at any minute, and not from being attacked.


    His class was really not designed for combat.


    ¡°I see you still haven¡¯t fixed your facial expressions,¡± Naymond added. ¡°That¡¯s saying something.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s it saying?¡± Melmarc kept his eyes on the one red indicator. It was almost at the door now.


    He wondered how it would react to seeing the one he¡¯d killed by stomping his foot into its head until he¡¯d crushed it.


    The very thought of what he had done still hadn¡¯t settled in. He knew he was supposed to process it, the violence, but he also knew that now wasn¡¯t the time. It had been vindictive. Yes, it had been necessary. But it wasn¡¯t him.


    And why am I still calm about it?


    Before entering the portal he would never had done what he¡¯d done¡­ or would he?


    ¡°You¡¯re worrying again,¡± Naymond said. ¡°Want to know a trick to solve that?¡±


    ¡°David sold me out,¡± Melmarc blurted.


    He twirled his hand a little faster. The ring of mana grew a little brighter.


    Naymond nodded. Melmarc couldn¡¯t see it, but [World of Insight] helped him feel it. It was a simple nod, the kind you¡¯d give when there was no real response to whatever had been said.


    It was also an admission of guilt.


    ¡°I figured he would, given the chance.¡± Naymond looked away, didn¡¯t meet the back of Melmarc¡¯s head or his moving hand. ¡°I just didn¡¯t think he would get the chance so soon. It¡¯s going to turn back now.¡±


    Melmarc stopped himself from looking back in surprise. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The monster.¡±


    ¡°They are called Damned,¡± Melmarc informed him.


    That got a pause out of Naymond.


    ¡°Did your Interface tell you that or was it your skill?¡± Naymond asked.


    ¡°Skill,¡± Melmarc confirmed. ¡°And how do you know it¡¯s going to turn back now?¡±


    The [Damned] paused jerkily just before getting to the door, then it turned back.


    Melmarc looked back at Naymond. ¡°They also have movement patterns?¡±


    Naymond chuckled. ¡°I see you¡¯ve noticed their fighting pattern. But no, they don¡¯t have movement patterns.¡±


    ¡°So your skill?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure he was getting it. If Naymond knew their fighting pattern and could predict even their movement pattern, then how did he end up in the state he was in?


    And how was he chuckling and making decent conversation in the state he was in?


    None of that mattered. What mattered was that they had to get out of here. If the [Damned] weren¡¯t aware of them any more, then they had a chance of getting away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t stop,¡± Naymond said, suddenly.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand hadn¡¯t even stopped moving. He¡¯d only been thinking about it.


    ¡°If you stop now,¡± Naymond said, ¡°they¡¯ll come flocking towards the bugs and we¡¯ll be swarmed in a matter of moments.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s your skill,¡± Naymond explained. ¡°The pure mana, it¡¯s confusing whatever connection they have with each other.¡±


    It was also making [World of Insight] difficult to use. Melmarc kept struggling to pull his attention away from the ring. He could only keep track of the [Damned] and critters with his eyes and the red indicators, and he wasn¡¯t sure how much longer the indicators were going to be visible.


    His ten minutes were almost up. This was the main reason he was keeping the ring of mana around his hand as low as possible. But his inability to focus [World of Insight] was annoying. But Naymond didn''t seem to be having the same issue.


    How is he focusing with it?


    ¡°Just out of curiosity,¡± Naymond said. ¡°And correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but can you use any other skill with that thing around your hand?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°Figured. Raw mana tends to act like that.¡± Naymond looked around. ¡°We¡¯ll need to find a way to deal with them, then.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t understand. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better if we tried to get out of here?¡±


    Naymond shook his head. ¡°We can¡¯t¡ªNo, sorry. I can¡¯t. I was considering that for a while now, but I have a high enough awareness of my body to know that if I¡¯m moved I might die.¡±


    That got Melmarc¡¯s entire attention and his hand almost stopped moving. Almost.


    He did look back, though.


    Naymond gave him a smile. ¡°There¡¯s a tear in my left artery. Not enough to be any kind of issue at all. It¡¯s not even leaking that much blood right now. Maybe none at all. But any wrong move and my body doesn¡¯t have the strength, vitality or endurance stats required to hold it together. It¡¯ll tear and I¡¯ll be confirming the age old philosophical question of if there¡¯s an afterlife.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ll die,¡± Melmarc said flatly. ¡°I¡¯m not a child, you can talk to me about the possibility of you dying while using the actual word.¡±


    Melmarc was definitely not okay with the possibility of someone he knew dying on him. He wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to see that.


    No. I don¡¯t want to see that.


    He was definitely sure of it.


    ¡°As long as you keep the raw mana active, we¡¯ll be fine,¡± Naymond said, trying to sound like it wasn¡¯t a big deal. ¡°I¡¯m doing it again, telling not asking. Sorry about that. How long can you keep it active?¡±


    Melmarc could feel it¡¯s drain on his own mana pool. It wasn¡¯t a quantifiable thing, surprisingly. It was more of quality than quantity.


    Now that he was paying attention to it, it was less about it draining his mana. It was draining his mana, just not so heavily, not as heavily as his other skills. But if he was to describe his mana pool as a can of pringles, then while his skills took out handfuls of pringles, [Rings of Saturn] simply took a small crack from a single pringle.


    However, each time it took a crack, the taste of the entire can dulled more and more.


    Now that he thought about it, it felt as if the skill didn¡¯t require a cool down, instead, his body did. The cool down helped the can of pringles regain its taste, helped his mana regain its quality.


    ¡°No idea,¡± he answered Naymond. ¡°I can hold it active for a long while¡­ I think.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± Naymond nodded. Then he shook his head. ¡°No, that¡¯s good but bad. I wouldn¡¯t advise it. Very few people have natural access to raw mana as concentrated as that, and there¡¯s a reason for it. You can¡¯t keep it active for very long.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s dangerous. I¡¯m surprised your form got unified when you got the skill. If anything, your form was meant to worsen.¡±


    Melmarc inched closer to the door. ¡°I have a question.¡±


    ¡°Go for it,¡± Naymond said.


    He peeked outside. On the ground was the dead [Damned] without an indicator. The closest [Damned] after it was two rooms away.


    ¡°You never answered how you knew the [Damned] was going to turn back if your skill didn¡¯t show you,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°You did the same thing that time we went to get David Swan. Does [World of Insight] do that at level thirty?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Naymond asked, confused. ¡°Oh, no. Nothing like that. It¡¯s just habit, I guess. With David, I knew they were going to run because it¡¯s just what their regular reaction was going to be. You see a cop, you run. In Brooklyn when the low level gangsters see me, they scatter since they know me. Simple detective work.¡±


    Melamrc wasn¡¯t sure if he was telling the truth or not.


    ¡°Take that as lesson thirty-two,¡± Naymond said. ¡°The fact that you¡¯re with a Gifted doesn¡¯t mean that everything you find slightly improbable is explained away as a skill.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t exactly sure how to react to that. ¡°I don¡¯t remember getting up to thirty-one lessons from you, though.¡±


    It was all he could say.


    ¡°Maybe just three,¡± he finished.


    ¡°Good point,¡± Naymond agreed. ¡°As for the creature¡ª[Damned]¡ªwith [World of Insight] you can see a lot of things. And the thing with seeing a lot of things the way I see them for as long as I¡¯ve been seeing them tells you that everything has a pattern. It¡¯s far more complex in humans and requires a massive amount of brain power to deduce and still be wrong.¡±


    Naymond took a moment to breathe and Melmarc took the moment to check on the [Damned] once more. His hand was also getting heavier, weaker. It was new.


    You also haven¡¯t kept a ring of mana active for this long before.


    ¡°But these creatures are kind of robotic,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°Automated, you could say. And I¡¯ve been around enough of them to know how they act, to a certain margin of error.¡±


    And he still got this messed up.


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°What can I say. These are early on injuries. With no combat strength, I¡¯m just a normal guy in a portal. All I¡¯ve got going are my skills and my brain.¡±


    Melmarc remembered what he knew of Naymond¡¯s class. Ten points into intelligence the moment they got their class.


    He¡¯d deduced an extra effect of [Bless Your Kindness] in mere moments of thinking about it with just three points in intelligence, so he could only imagine what Naymond''s brain was truly capable of.


    Melmarc¡¯s senses triggered, interrupting his thoughts and alerting him. He didn¡¯t even need to think, his body simply moved.


    He stepped out of the room, hand twirling quickly. The ring of mana grew brighter and his hand grew heavier. He didn¡¯t even anticipate anything.


    Melmarc stepped out of the room and swung his arm. The ring of mana shot out of his hand in a quick blast and embedded itself in the head of a [Damned] that walked out of a corner.


    It spun there for a few more cycles, smoke rising from where it made contact before the [Damned] fell back and hit the ground. The red indicator above the creature''s head dulled into grey, then disappeared.


    The ring dissipated and Melmarc was alerted to the new movement of the red indicators in the ground and the entire building.


    He spun his second hand almost immediately. Raw mana gathered to it, white and deep.


    Then Melmarc stepped back into the room.


    [You have slain Damned]


    [You have gained +54 EP]


    [Total EP: 897]


    He found Naymond staring at him in surprise.


    ¡°That was quick,¡± Naymond said. ¡°Too quick.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve been around them long enough. I¡¯ve kind of learnt how to kill them.¡±


    ¡°Yes, impressive, Mr. Lockwood.¡± Naymond made a move and groaned. He terminated the movement. ¡°But that¡¯s not what I was talking about. I meant the skill. It was too quick.¡±


    Melmarc drew a blank. Somehow he had a feeling that ¡®I¡¯ve been practicing¡¯ wasn¡¯t going to cut it as a response.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t even have time to see your form flicker,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°It¡¯s almost like¡­¡±


    Naymond trailed off, thoughtful.


    Melmarc would¡¯ve said something about that if his mind wasn¡¯t already too preoccupied by the number of red indicators around them.


    Naymond was right.


    The ring of mana did have an effect on the critters and the way they reacted with the [Damned]. But why now? He¡¯d used the rings before and hadn¡¯t gotten his reaction.


    Melmarc looked around, through the walls he counted four fading indicators.


    And there were four.


    He was taking this too easily, getting too accustomed to the killing and the lack of real fear. He knew enough to understand that this was what happened when a person spent too much time around anything and survived.


    Melmarc had read about Stockholm syndrome once, he always assumed it was some enhanced level of getting accustomed to the scenario the victims had been stuck in. Delano had once said that no matter how unappealing something was, you could always get accustomed to it over time.


    ¡°My aunt Fae looks like something I stepped on,¡± Delano had once said. ¡°Used to scare the living tooth fairy out of me. Then she spent a year at our house and she looks a lot less like something I stepped on.¡±


    Delano had gone on to explain how his aunt still looked like something he¡¯d stepped on but just didn¡¯t give him the same feeling anymore. But that wasn¡¯t the important part.


    The important part was that Melmarc hoped he wouldn¡¯t one day make it home only to find out that he wanted to go killing things.


    ¡°Thinking too much again,¡± Naymond said, startling him.


    ¡°Thinking about anywhere that¡¯s not here,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°I don¡¯t like it here.¡±


    ¡°Understatement of the year.¡± Naymond chuckled. ¡°But I know what you mean. I hate portals, too.¡±


    The red indicators were now at their dimmest and Melmarc wondered what would happen if he used [Knowledge is Power] again.


    Would they come flocking straight to him even if he activated [Rings of Saturn] once more?


    ¡°Why does my skill confuse them?¡± he asked, speaking for the sake of speaking.


    He¡¯d gone almost two weeks with no one to talk to and was just realizing that he¡¯d missed having someone to talk to.


    ¡°Raw mana tends to have that effect on everything,¡± Naymond answered as if they¡¯d always been talking about the subject. ¡°Raw mana is everywhere. It¡¯s the mana that¡¯s left in the air when all the ambient mana is gone. Think of it like light, then imagine just how much light you need to compress to create an actual tangible thing.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t.¡± At least Melmarc didn¡¯t think light worked that way.


    Did it?


    Melmarc shook his head. That wasn¡¯t what was confusing him. What he wanted to know was different.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t do this before, though,¡± he said. ¡°They never ran from it or got confused by it. What¡¯s different now?¡±


    ¡°[World of Insight],¡± Naymond answered easily. ¡°It¡¯s all forms and counter forms.¡±


    Melmarc drew a blank. ¡°What¡¯s a counter form?¡±


    Naymond paused. ¡°Oh. Sorry about that. There¡¯s no such thing as counter forms. It¡¯s just nonsense I say sometimes to sound smart.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to react to that. A part of him had a feeling Naymond had said something he wasn''t supposed to say and was just lying to cover it up. Now he was wondering just how many times Naymond had said ¡®nonsense¡¯ just to sound smart and how much of that nonsense might have been things he wasn''t supposed to say and ended up covering it up as nonsense.


    But isn¡¯t he smart? Why would he want to sound smart?


    ¡°A few days here and your body is still your best communication skill,¡± Naymond said with a mild chuckle. ¡°Anyway, the reason they are reacting now is because of my skill. Raw mana has been known to dispel active skills because forms have a difficult time taking shape or form in the presence of high raw mana concentrations. You won¡¯t experience anything like that on earth, but there are portals that are just chuck full of high concentrations of raw mana.¡±


    ¡°How do people clear them when they can¡¯t use their skills then?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°They can¡¯t use their active skills,¡± Naymond corrected. ¡°So they clear them with passive skills. Raw mana works differently with passive skills since the form for passive skills tend to be different from active skills. If an active skill is a brick, passive skill is water. More flexible. That allows it spread itself along raw mana since raw mana tends to act like a magnet to them.¡±


    Melmarc looked down at the ring of mana.


    But he didn¡¯t have any passive skills.


    No. He actually did, somehow. [Bless Your Kindness] had something of a passive and active aspect. He didn¡¯t control the stat increase only the status buff.


    Is that why I get to keep the stats even when it¡¯s active?


    If that was the case, what would happen if he got an active skill from the effects of [Bless Your Kindness]? Would he still have it or would the raw mana dispel it the moment he cast it?


    ¡°So what¡¯s happening right now,¡± Naymond continued, ¡°is that the form of [World of Insight] is carrying residues of the raw mana you have in your hand and spreading it around. It¡¯s of the smallest amount, but everything here can sense it spread all over the place, so it¡¯s confusing them.¡±


    ¡°And if I deactivate my skill, it¡¯s all gone?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°They come back to their senses?¡±


    Naymond nodded. ¡°Right now, whatever connection they have with these damned things is broken because, and I¡¯m just speculating here, the connection is being drawn to your ring of raw mana.¡±


    As positive as that sounded, Melmarc knew he couldn¡¯t keep up his use of pure mana. At least not forever.


    Which meant only one thing. He needed to go out there and kill all the [Damned] before he couldn''t hold the skill active any longer.


    ¡°You might die if you move?¡± he asked, wincing from how unaffected by the concept his voice sounded.


    ¡°Yep,¡± Naymond said, unbothered. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m right here.¡±


    ¡°That means that if we can¡¯t move you, we have to get rid of the [Damned].¡±


    ¡°Also correct,¡± Naymond said. ¡°But that is unimportant.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think so. Still, he was willing to learn why a [Sage] thought so.


    ¡°What¡¯s important?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You finding somewhere safe and waiting it out until actual Delvers paid and trained for this arrive.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how he wanted to respond to that. He knew what he wanted to say, but the how was the issue. It was bad news and he wasn¡¯t sure how he wanted to pass it along.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± he said, still wondering.


    ¡°Yes, Mr. Lockwood?¡±


    He¡¯s a grown man, Melmarc thought. He would probably prefer it if I just ripped the band-aid off.


    ¡°We¡¯ve been here for more than eleven days,¡± he said slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t think any Delver is coming for us.¡±


    He had come to terms with it a day ago, but his mind had still been fighting against the idea.


    ¡°At least not anytime soon,¡± he added. ¡°If we continue to wait for them, you might not make it.¡±


    Naymond looked down at his injuries. ¡°You might be right. If so, then what do you suggest.¡±


    ¡°I might know where I need to go to, if I want to close the portal.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°And I think closing the portal as fast as possible would be best for us.¡±


    There. He said it.


    He was officially going to close the portal.


    Naymond laughed so hard Melmarc feared he would rupture the artery he said had an issue. But he also noted how dark the laughter was.


    Naymond¡¯s wasn''t laughing at him, and his next words only served to confuse Melmarc more.


    ¡°Your father¡¯s going to kill me.¡±


    Then all the red indicators around them winked out of existence. [Knowledge is Power] had run out, and Melmarc was left blind to his enemies.

 FIFTY-SIX: A New Form

    In his life, Melmarc had heard a lot of surprising things. Nothing too great, but there were enough surprising things in his life to go around.


    In fact, most of the surprising things he¡¯d heard had come from Ark and Delano. Ark having surprising things to say wasn¡¯t that big a deal, at this point Melmarc was used to it. He often attributed it to the fact that the kind of person Ark was led him to do things that led him to interesting points in his life.


    Thus, the things he knew and experienced were always strange as far as Melmarc was concerned. For example, he had a girlfriend named Freda and Chioma. And he called her Freda or Chioma.


    It was an odd thing that he¡¯d done it so much that Melmarc now genuinely called her Chioma or Freda. Most people just chose a name for their friend and stuck to it.


    The second source, Delano, was mostly on account of his love of being a conspiracy theorist. Melmarc always felt that was more than enough of an explanation as to why the boy was chock full of surprising things.


    That said, Melmarc turned to Naymond at the Sage¡¯s words, as confused as he had ever been.


    ¡°You know my dad?¡± he asked.


    It wasn¡¯t necessarily the words that held his attention but more of how they were said. They sounded personal.


    He remembered when Naymond had stopped calling him Melmarc and had started calling him Mr. Lockwood. According to Naymond, the decision had been made when he knew who he was.


    Back then Melmarc hadn¡¯t taken the words too seriously. Now, however, he wasn¡¯t sure he should¡¯ve handled it the way he had.


    Melmarc¡¯s parents worked for the government but not in some simple capacity. They weren¡¯t very important from what he knew, because very important people who worked for the government had some form of protection or the other. Ergo, someone like Naymond couldn¡¯t have run into them in any capacity capable of giving his words such a personal note to them.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t see a mathematical possibility that allowed a felon turned consultant know his parents that much.


    And even if there was one, why would that lead Naymond to calling him by his last name instead of his first name?


    ¡°The ring,¡± Naymond simply said. ¡°It¡¯s dying out.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s mind stumbled and he focused his attention back on his hand, turned it once more. The ring had been fading into nonexistence but it was good again now, sorted.


    He couldn¡¯t keep this up, though. [World of Insight] was a good skill, but with [Rings of Saturn] active, it wasn¡¯t as good as it was supposed to be.


    ¡°How do you know my dad?¡± Melmarc asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm, dispel his confusion.


    He didn¡¯t like how flustered Naymond¡¯s words had left him.


    It¡¯s everything, he told himself. You¡¯ve spent too much time here.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t entirely sure if his thoughts were right. As a child, his therapist had kept their sessions going a little longer because she¡¯d claimed that while he showed no signs of trauma, there were people whose minds worked in different ways.


    She¡¯d theorized the possibility that his mind was like a conglomeration of countless tiny metal balls with a magnet at its core that held everything together. Personally, Melmarc had thought it was a poor analogy but had never said anything on it.


    The therapist explained that the magnet was something strong, and no matter what happened, his mind categorized all events as the same event. Yes, there were scales to the events, some being greater than others, but that his mind was one that always felt itself capable of handling any single event.


    She believed the event of the Player¡¯s attack had not been affecting him as much as it had been affecting Ark because his mind had taken the single event and chucked it somewhere in the recess of itself where all his stress went to die.


    She said if that was true, then she couldn¡¯t help him. That while it wasn¡¯t healthy in the long run, there was nothing she could do about it.


    So their therapy sessions had gone on longer. A month longer than Ark¡¯s.


    In the end, she¡¯d given him a full bill of health.


    According to her, he had a strong mind that dealt with stress better than most people¡¯s. Apparently, his problems were only problems as far as they were problems in the specific moment. His mind didn¡¯t have lingering effects from the Player¡¯s attack because it was over and the Player was gone.


    His father had told him that the Player was gone and his mind had accepted that nothing could be done about it.


    ¡°Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc moved his hand instinctively.


    ¡°Not the skill,¡± Naymond said. ¡°The skill is good now. You just look odd.¡±


    Melmarc nodded absently.


    What had his therapist said about how his mind worked? A single event wasn¡¯t going to faze him so he was good. Healthy. But everybody had a breaking point, he just needed to look out for his.


    That he was doing good after such a devastating effect didn¡¯t mean that he had a powerful mind. That wasn¡¯t how the mind worked.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand moved instinctively to his stomach, rubbed at the scar, and found it wasn¡¯t there anymore.


    His hand froze.


    Something was wrong. Not the scar but something else. The missing scar was a problem he would have to deal with eventually. He remembered having it before entering the portal but hadn¡¯t been paying enough attention to it to remember when exactly it had stopped being there or how.


    Why am I so fixated on how he knows dad?


    The thought played in his head. It was a big deal but he didn¡¯t think it was that big of a deal.


    The same way you¡¯re always fixated on everything that happens to Ark.


    Did he have a fixation problem?


    Yes, he was fixated on everything that happened to Ark but that was because Ark had a way of getting into different kinds of trouble. Melmarc had to ensure there was nothing wrong with the situations Ark got himself into.


    Right?


    Ark had brought a random animal he¡¯d seen somewhere to the house. He¡¯d known the creature was definitely a problem and he¡¯d brought it. As far as Melmarc knew, people bringing strange things home mostly happened in horror movies.


    Then he became a Demon King.


    ¡°And he hadn¡¯t even been worried,¡± Melmarc muttered to himself.


    ¡°Mr. Lockwood.¡± There was a mild touch of worry in Naymond¡¯s voice.


    Melmarc could hear it, but for some reason it was distant, currently unimportant.


    Why had he been all over the place with worry when Ark was perfectly fine? He¡¯d thought his response was the healthy reaction to knowing that you were now the Demon King. The negativity was right there in the name.


    Ark was the one that was strange for not being bothered. Right?


    Then there was also the registration, how he¡¯d been extremely worried by the fact that someone else was about to learn about Ark¡¯s class.


    Was his constant worrying what was unhealthy?


    He didn¡¯t worry this much about Ninra or uncle Dorthna, though.


    They weren¡¯t at home when we were attacked.


    Neither had his dad.


    But he¡¯d never worried that much about his mom, though.


    Because she¡¯s an adult that can take care of herself. She fought the Player and survived even when we thought she would die in the hospital.


    Melmarc paused. Now he was suddenly aware of the fact that he had been walking. He was also aware of the fact that Naymond was still talking.


    Melmarc shook his head. He didn¡¯t like what was happening. His therapist had said minds worked in different ways, and while she couldn¡¯t prove it, he probably had the kind of mind that caved under enough battering, like normal peoples¡¯ minds.


    If he was bombarded with enough stress over a short period of time, he could have a mental breakdown.


    Melmarc chuckled at the thought. He¡¯d been stressed for almost two weeks, but no, it wasn¡¯t enough to break him down.


    But Naymond knowing his father was what was going to get him done in?


    He almost laughed out loud. It was unreasonable. He was a healthy boy. His therapist had given him a clean bill of health.


    Yes, with enough stress anybody could break. That the doctor said you were totally healthy didn¡¯t mean you could not fall sick later on.


    But this was outrageous.


    Somewhere in his head he realized that he couldn¡¯t hear Naymond any more. The man¡¯s voice seemed to have grown distant, then nonexistent.


    I¡¯ve got a normal mind, he thought. Oddly enough, it sounded as if he was convincing himself that he had a normal mind.


    There wasn¡¯t enough confidence in the thought.


    I¡¯m just stressed. I¡¯ve been on my toes since I got here. I¡¯ve been killing things and staying alive.


    Melmarc took a deep breath. It came out calm, not rushed.


    If he was having a mental breakdown right now he wouldn¡¯t be bothered by it. With everything that had happened to him, he was supposed to have some kind of mental breakdown. It was totally fine.


    What was triggering his current state of mind--and he wasn''t sure he was ready to admit that he was having some kind of mental break down--was what he was having a problem with. It wasn¡¯t that big a deal that Naymond knew his dad, was it?


    It couldn¡¯t be.


    There was a sound to his right, heard in the same way you would hear someone stagger into something.


    Melmarc turned and his hand was already moving. The weight on his hand lightened as the ring of mana crossed the distance to embed itself into the head of the [Damned].


    It was a perfect aim. Precise.


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    Melmarc couldn¡¯t have made a better shot if he had a sniper rifle.


    Yes, this is why I¡¯m here, he thought. This is the problem at hand.


    He activated [Knowledge is Power] ignoring the notification that told him how much [EP] he now had and how much the [Damned] had given him.


    He continued walking even as the skill reached out around him. Somewhere in his mind he knew that he was invulnerable in this moment. Right now was the safest he could ever be.


    When a [Damned] burst out of the room to his left, he was already fully aware of its presence. It came swinging a plate where its hand was supposed to be.


    The plate slapped Melmarc with enough force to turn his head. Pain filled his mind, heavy and strong. It stung horribly and he thought he heard his neck crack.


    For the briefest moment, his mind forgot about all the other things plaguing it and focused on the pain. It was only for a moment, though.


    Melmarc turned to the [Damned] in response as it was spinning in its action and tackled it into the wall. They struck the wall in a loud thud and Melmarc held its face against the wall.


    He could feel it straining against his hold.


    Such a fight was disadvantageous to him. He doubted the [Damned] could feel pain, and he couldn¡¯t damage it right now. So all he could do was pin it down and wait.


    He stepped away from the creature and kicked it in the chest. It bounced against the wall before falling down to the ground and Melmarc hurried. He sat on it, straddled it so that both his knees locked its hands down.


    [World of Insight] told him that there weren¡¯t any other monsters near by even as [Knowledge is Power] returned to him.


    He kept the creature pinned down, waiting.


    For some reason, [Knowledge is Power] was taking too long.


    Melmarc waited patiently and to his surprise, deprived of its limbs, the [Damned] started jerking. Its head jerked towards him, teeth snapping in an attempt to bite him. It was too far away to be threatening but it got his attention because it was the first time he was ever seeing a [Damned] use another form of attack besides their constant leaps and strikes.


    A part of him had thought it would just lay down and take whatever he gave¡ª


    The burst of mana hit him and Melmarc¡¯s brain snapped to attention.


    There was nothing else to think about but the problem in front of him. And the problem in front of him was still struggling.


    He twirled his hand, activated [Rings of Saturn]. He made to throw it and realized they were too close. He''d only ever thrown his rings of mana. Unwilling to think too much about it, he improvised and punched the [Damned] in the face.


    His fist dug a hole.


    With his fist buried in the creature''s face, the ring of mana started dying out so Melmarc was forced to take his hand from it and resume the motion of twirling it to keep the ring alive.


    You have slain [Damned (C)]


    You have gained +59 [EP]


    Melmarc dispelled the notification before seeing the total [EP] he now had. There were two indicators left in the entire building that were above ground level and he needed to take care of them as well if he wanted him and Naymond to be safe. As long as he hadn¡¯t run through all his rings of mana, [Rings of Saturn] would not run into a cooldown stage.


    If he had one left, it would remain one left until he used it. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but it was something he would look into once he was done with everything.


    What exactly everything was, was still up for debate. It could be securing this building. It could be closing the portal.


    It could be verifying how Mr. Hitchcock knows dad.


    It was funny that despite what had just happened, his mind still found a way to remain hung up on that single issue.


    He spared the corpse beneath him one final glance before getting up from it. It seemed the weight of the ring of raw mana somehow added to his attack power. He continued to learn something new every time.


    Standing in what was or had once been a hallway, Melmarc looked to the crumbling ceiling and let out a long sigh.


    Two more, he thought.


    Either they¡¯d gotten another [Damned] or his counting was poor. Whichever the case was¡­


    All I have to do is kill them.


    For some reason, there was nothing daunting about the idea.


    It was a wrong feeling, an odd feeling. Melmarc knew that he would sit and contemplate on how horrible the feeling was eventually.


    But for now¡­


    ¡­He liked it.


    ¡­


    Naymond rested tiredly against the wall worried that something had broken in Melmarc. He wasn¡¯t sure which to be more worried about, that it was from spending too long alone in the portal or the fact that realizing that he knew the boy¡¯s father.


    Naymond had frozen the moment Melmarc had asked him how he knew his dad, but it wasn¡¯t the question that had frozen him, it was the boy¡¯s form.


    Every Gifted had a form, even Oaths.


    The way forms worked was that he everyone had them. In the simplest form of explanation, forms were like scents. They were always there, very small but there for anyone who looked. When they activated their skill, their forms acted up first. Moved.


    Any Sage who was paying attention would see it. It was how Sages survived. They watched and waited. Then they moved once their opponent¡¯s form informed them of the activation of their skill. For Naymond, he was a more superior Sage as far as he was concerned.


    He had a skill that allowed him manipulate that very form to turn the effect of the skill in a different direction. He didn¡¯t necessarily turn the skill on the user, instead the skill allowed him make the skill backfire.


    But that only worked if he used it just before the activation. S-ranks had the shortest time between the movement of their form and the activation of their skills. Oaths had almost no time delay between both actions.


    Melmarc had zero time delay.


    And that scared Naymond.


    It left him with too many questions. What exactly had happened to him since getting to the portal to make him an abnormality.


    Worse, his form merely came alive with the skill, and it was vastly different from what he remembered about it.


    Was it the process of going through the portal? Naymond knew the form of portals and refused to believe there was any way people who went through portals weren¡¯t affected by it somehow.


    He had watched a portal¡¯s form turn a normal person into a puddle of water. It even acted on any Gifted nearby, it merely worked different¡ªas if the Gifted were somehow immune to whatever the effect was meant to be.


    But they were certainly not completely immune.


    The watchers inside the portals¡ªas he liked to call them¡ªwere the one thing that made him know that the portals worked on anyone who stepped into them.


    There was a reason no one had ever heard about them in their world. Calling the idea of speaking of them a secret was a very very vast understatement.


    [World of Insight] showed him as Melmarc tossed his ring of raw mana into the head of one of the creatures. Killed it in a single move. Not for the first time he wondered what life would¡¯ve been like for him if he had gained a more combat class.


    There would¡¯ve been no forms or extreme intelligence.


    It wasn¡¯t really a thought at this point. If he was offered that, he would take it without hesitation. His life as a [Sage] wasn¡¯t the fun most people thought it was.


    When Melmarc turned and activated [Knowledge is Power] Naymond braced for the feeling that was known to come with it. The discomfort of lending someone something you just knew you would not get back even if you would rather not get it back.


    He watched the form of Melmarc¡¯s skill come for him even as the boy tackled a monster into the wall without hesitation and no expression on his face.


    When the form got to him, Naymond paled. His heart slowed and fear took him by the spine.


    What the hell?


    He twitched in an instinctual attempt to escape the form but kept himself in place so that he didn¡¯t aggravate any of his injuries.


    Naymond stiffened, waited and hoped all it would do this time was take a skill from him and nothing more. He was reminded of fear once more from the sight of it.


    The form blew past him, a soft caress he couldn¡¯t feel going past him before disappearing. Naymond wondered why he could see it. Forms didn¡¯t work this way. They always remained on the Gifted, never leaving them. Never going far.


    He wondered what it meant that Melmarc¡¯s form was working alongside his skill now instead of staying with him.


    There was also the possibility that it wasn¡¯t just working alongside the skill.


    What if it¡¯s reaching out?


    The thought worried Naymond. There was only one form he knew of that reached out.


    What the hell happened to him?


    His thoughts were still working around, wondering how best to explain himself when he inevitably ran into Madness. The only work he had left to do was talk Melmarc out of trying to clear the portal, and he didn¡¯t think that would be too difficult.


    He¡¯d talked a man out of believing the color blue was blue before, he was almost certain he could talk a young boy out of going on a suicide mission.


    Melmarc¡¯s skill went through him, giving him that annoying feeling and [World of Insight] showed Naymond the sight of Melmarc smash in the head of one of the creatures he¡¯d pulled down with one punch.


    Naymond was beginning to wonder if it really was going to be a suicide mission if the boy decided to try and clear the portal alone.


    It¡¯s a C-rank portal and he¡¯s B-rank, he thought. Maybe he can do it.


    Naymond dispelled the thought immediately.


    Children shouldn¡¯t be in portals.


    But how was he going to stop Melmarc? What if the boy decided to turn around and simply leave him here? If Melmarc had figured out how the portal works when it came to injuries and knew that once they cleared out this building there would be no monsters coming here, then he could simply turn and leave.


    I haven¡¯t answered the question of how I know his dad.


    Naymond paused.


    Now that he thought about it, Melmarc was giving a completely wrong reaction to the information.


    There was no way it was so big of a deal that he¡¯d get angry enough to walk out of the conversation and go fight monsters, right?


    Which begged the question of just how much Melmarc knew about his own father.


    What if Madness¡¯ kids don¡¯t know?


    That was another thought Naymond refused to accept. Madness and War were the only Oaths that were married to each other. He knew maybe three more Oaths that were married but their significant others weren¡¯t Oaths.


    Even now people wondered what the effect of two Oaths procreating would be.


    Suddenly, Melmarc¡¯s question came with a burden. It was a burden that pressed on Naymond¡¯s mind even as Melmarc crushed in another monster¡¯s head in one blow, flattened it against the wall in a single strike.


    The boy had practically become a hunter of the creatures. Naymond wasn¡¯t sure how good that was in comparison to how bad it was.


    On one hand the boy had shown adaptive skills that had turned him into the hunter in a world where he was supposed to be hunted. On the other hand, his method was too cold and detached. Empty.


    Right now he moved as if he only killed the creatures because he could. Nothing else.


    As he watched Melmarc walk up to the last creature as if what was about to happen was simply inevitable, Naymond started making his calculations and was left with a single question.


    Madness and War got married as Oaths, and Oaths were the most enigmatic Gifted, more enigmatic than the rare SS-rank Gifted.


    What were the chances that as their son, Melmarc had somehow inherited something from his parents as Oaths?


    After all, what he was witnessing Melmarc display right now was the calm collected decisiveness Madness displayed at all times.


    What if Oaths actually passed down their traits to their offspring, given the right circumstances?


    Even as the thought crossed his mind Naymond thought it was ludicrous.


    But is it?


    Melmarc walked back into the room with the same empty expression he had worn when he¡¯d left, the same empty expression Madness always had.


    With it, the resemblance was striking.


    Naymond was also reminded of his second most important problem.


    What did Melmarc really know about his parents?


    And how much was he allowed to tell?


    If he said too much, he could definitely get into a different kind of problem with Madness. You didn¡¯t tell a man¡¯s child a secret belonging to them when they were keeping it away from said child. It would open up an entirely new can of worms.


    Especially when said dad can kill you with one punch.


    Melmarc stood in the room, quiet. He wasn¡¯t even looking at Naymond.


    ¡°Gotten everything out of your system?¡± Naymond asked before he could stop himself.


    He would say his big mouth would one day get him into trouble but that would be an understatement of the year. His big mouth always got him into trouble.


    Melmarc¡¯s response was calm and collected. It was also empty.


    ¡°How do you know my dad?¡±


    It was truly a heavy question. But Naymond could top it with a heavier one.


    After all, how did you explain to a sixteen-year-old that their form was now, suddenly, very similar to the form of a portal.


    ¡­


    Alfa ran a worried hand through her hair as she paced around the room.


    There were only detectives in the room now while the uniformed officers kept the entire house secured. The only consolation she had was that this had actually not escalated into a PR madness.


    The press had stayed just long enough to not see any Delvers coming to attempt the portal and had concluded that it was of a low rank even though the police had quite literally released a press conference a few days ago stating the rank of the portal and the government had concurred with them.


    ¡°You really should calm down, babe.¡±


    She turned to her husband, the only other person in the room that was not supposed to be in the room. He was well dressed with a simple clean hair cut and no beard, just the way she liked it. His arms were folded over his chest and he and he was resting his back against the wall.


    Alfa knew she should calm down. Once again, her husband had come through for her, saved her ass when she needed saving.


    Barely five minutes ago a team of C-rank Delvers had gone into the portal fully geared and everything.


    From what she knew, they were actually Delvers that were not supposed to be entering portals at this time, not because they were banned or anything like that, but because they were on leave from Delving.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure all of them are good to go?¡± she asked not for the first time. ¡°They can work together to achieve success.¡±


    The Blight nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve worked with some of them on different occasions. You can put any of them in a new team they¡¯ve never been in before and they¡¯ll adapt.¡±


    Alfa nodded, assuring herself as best she could that everything was finally going to be alright now.


    Nan and all the detectives under her had failed to reach any family member, which would normally be a bad thing, but was a good thing in this case.


    When she¡¯d told them to stop trying, there had been confused expressions going around but they had accepted her instruction despite the absence of any explanation.


    And I didn¡¯t even need to say it was an order from the top.


    Sometimes it was odd how they just followed her instructions whenever she gave them.


    The mentorship program had ended a few days ago and everyone had been given their pass and sent back home, but Alfa knew for a fact that the [Warrior] and the African girl whose name continued to elude her were still in town. Why? She had no idea.


    She was just glad that none of the other mentees had run into any accidents during the duration of the program.


    Now they were running against time. Melmarc¡¯s family would know that he was supposed to be back and that he was not. They would start trying to make contact and someone would have to reach out to them and deliver a well placed explanation that would not step on the toes of any Oaths.


    The last thing she wanted was to be explaining what she knew she shouldn¡¯t be explaining to someone she was far too many ranks too low to be explaining to.


    Not for the first time, she let out a very tired sigh. The annoying part was that all the sighs did was make her feel much worse.


    Again, she ran a tired hand through her hair. This was going to be the end of¡ª


    ¡°Hey!¡± someone said from the stairs. ¡°You can¡¯t be here?¡±


    This wasn¡¯t the first time someone who wasn¡¯t supposed to be here was trying to be here. Regardless, every time Alfa heard the sound, she jumped a little in her skin, because it was far too likely that one day the sound would be said to an Oath.


    ¡°Please hurry up,¡± she begged.


    For the first time in over ten years, Alfa was biting her fingernails.

 FIFTY-SEVEN: Optimum Existence

    The room felt moldy, the air heavy somehow.


    Melmarc walked back into the room, a lot still on his mind. The fact that he had just slaughtered a handful of [Damned] didn¡¯t even impress him. At least his mind wasn¡¯t paying much in the way of attention to it.


    Standing in the room, silence was his only friend even as questions riddled his mind. Something grander than the questions was wrong with him. Almost as great as that was the fact that he wasn¡¯t tired, not even in the slightest.


    He couldn¡¯t even silence his mind, and as loud as it was it wasn¡¯t noisy. There was some kind of lost peace in the entirety of his confusion.


    ¡°Gotten everything out of your system?¡±


    Melmarc looked down, realizing he had been looking up at the ceiling as he had been not too long ago.


    In front of him Naymond was a mess. Lying there, back against the wall, there was too much blood. He didn¡¯t look like a man who was supposed to survive.


    It took another moment for Melmarc to notice the smell of something burnt. It filled the air. Another thing he noticed was the fact that the smell was coming from Naymond.


    Melmarc recognized the smell well enough to know that it was coming from the critters. But not all the critters on Naymond had fallen off him.


    There was a high chance that the [Damned] that some of the critters belonged to had come from a different part of the portal.


    Will I have to find them and kill them?


    He didn¡¯t know how the critters worked on someone as terribly wounded as Naymond. There was also the risk of what could happen if they for some reason decided to get into his blood stream.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t want to know how bad it could get. Prevention was better than cure.


    Which means I have to head out again.


    But first¡­


    ¡°How do you know my dad?¡± he said, words quieter than he intended.


    He would¡¯ve thought Naymond didn¡¯t hear him if not for the reaction on Naymond¡¯s face. Naymond raised a hand sluggishly and scratched at his cheek with his index finger.


    Doesn¡¯t it hurt moving around? Melmarc wondered.


    With all his tears and injuries and the amount of blood he was drenched in, Melmarc expected Naymond to be in pain.


    Is it a Sage thing?


    Did Sages have anything in their skill set that allowed them ignore pan in some way. Were they immune somehow to it?


    Melmarc had questions and wanted answers.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Naymond began, only to let his words trail off without continuation.


    In a display of something he would never do before, Melmarc walked up to Naymond and squatted in front of him.


    Naymond quirked a brow and Melmarc wondered at the action. It looked odd. It didn¡¯t carry the cocky confidence the Sage was known for. There was something there, something hidden within the action.


    It was buried beneath the confidence and the¡­


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed on their own.


    Naymond¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Please don¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Do what?¡± Melmarc asked in genuine curiosity.


    ¡°That.¡± Somehow Naymond gestured at him with his head without moving his head. ¡°You remind me of your dad when you do that, not that it bothers me or anything.¡±


    Dissonant.


    The thought was so alien in Melmarc¡¯s head that it startled him. He almost turned around to check if someone had somehow spoken from behind him.


    What the hell was that?


    Dissonant meant something wasn¡¯t in sync or harmony. So what did it mean that his mind had chosen the word. It was too random, too¡­


    Melmarc frowned.


    What was happening?


    ¡°You look very confused,¡± Naymond said.


    ¡°I am very confused,¡± Melmarc answered. Again, his voice sounded too weak.


    Naymond¡¯s raised brow dropped and he gave Melmarc a new look.


    ¡°How about we start slow,¡± he said. ¡°Work our way up from what we know to what is making you confused.¡±


    ¡°I know that you know my dad well enough for my facial expression to remind you of him.¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Naymond said, as a teacher would to a student. ¡°What else do we know?¡±


    ¡°That even in your current state you¡¯re not feeling any pain.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the portal effect,¡± Naymond confirmed, dismissively. ¡°Got nothing to do with me. I¡¯m sure that bruise doesn¡¯t hurt anymore.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s hand touched his chest. ¡°It still itches sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Naymond sounded surprised. ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡± Melmarc was still squatted, one hand resting on his knee.


    There was a moment of silence where all Naymond did was look at him. It was strange because Naymond didn¡¯t seem to just be looking at him.


    What was it he said Sages could see? Melmarc thought, unable to remember the exact word Naymond had used.


    It came to him a moment after.


    Forms.


    Maybe he¡¯s looking at my form.


    Melmarc wondered what his form looked like.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Naymond asked after a while.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think he was alright. He had a bruise in his chest that was refusing to heal, a wound that continued to itch every now and again. He had been surviving on his own in a portal for days and he¡¯d been fighting opponents he had no reason to fight at his age.


    Still, he had a feeling that wasn¡¯t specifically what Naymond was asking.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think I am.¡±


    ¡°I figured,¡± Naymond replied. ¡°The way you¡¯re staying to talk to me right now doesn¡¯t feel like something you¡¯d do.¡±


    Naymond raised a questioning brow.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a Sage thing,¡± Naymond clarified. ¡°Just a people thing. The way you¡¯re squatting feels like you¡¯re squatting so that you can talk to a child. It¡¯s not condescending but it looks condescending.¡±


    Melmarc looked down at himself, not that he expected to see whatever it was Naymond was talking about.


    ¡°It just felt more comfortable,¡± he said.


    Somehow when he¡¯d entered the room, Naymond had felt far lower than he remembered. Squatting had just felt easier for him, comfortable.


    ¡°Uhuh,¡± Naymond said. ¡°It¡¯s comfortable because you got taller between the time you stepped out, slayed the damned, and came back.¡±


    Melmarc was happy to get a confirmation that he was actually still growing. It was good to know it wasn¡¯t all in his head.


    ¡°And, yes,¡± Naymond said. ¡°I think that¡¯s a Sage thing. It¡¯s not by much but it is by something. I¡¯m quite surprised it was enough to affect you, though.¡±


    Still squatting, Melmarc scratched the back of his head. ¡°I think I¡¯ve been growing since I got my class.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re sixteen,¡± Naymond said. ¡°You¡¯re still supposed to be growing.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t entirely sure about that.


    I wonder if I¡¯m Ark¡¯s height now.


    Melmarc paused, realizing something. Naymond hadn¡¯t answered his question. He¡¯d spun the conversation, twirled it, led it, then turned it. Now they were talking about his height.


    Melmarc shook his head slowly. ¡°Can you please not do that?¡±


    ¡°Do what?¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc frowned at the thought. What was dissonant? And why was his mind so insistent on telling him the word.


    Wait¡­


    Melmarc focused on Naymond.


    ¡°You know what you¡¯re doing,¡± he said.


    ¡°I do?¡±


    Melmarc waited. The thought did not come.


    Unsure of what to make of it, Melmarc brought the conversation back to what was important.


    ¡°How do you know my dad?¡± he asked once more.


    ¡°Do you know that this feels kind of like an unsanctioned interrogation?¡± Naymond grinned. ¡°I mean, here I am, a defenseless man, unable to stand up for myself. You have me in a corner and it feels like I need help and you won¡¯t help me if I don¡¯t give you the answer you¡¯re looking for.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t that serious. Melmarc didn¡¯t think so, at least.


    He wouldn¡¯t refuse to grant Naymond whatever help he needed just because he refused to tell him about how he knew his dad.


    Would I?


    Dissonant.


    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake,¡± he muttered. Now his own mind was calling dissonant on his own mind?


    In front of him Naymond smiled.


    ¡°Very much like your father,¡± he said. ¡°There is a theory about Oaths and their offspring. So far it¡¯s been proven on the losing side.¡±


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Melmarc knew the word. He knew what Oaths were. As a child Ark had told him that their parents were Oaths. His father was the Oath of Madness and his mom was the Oath of War.


    They¡¯d always speculated that Dorthna was some kind of Oath. He was not.


    Then there¡¯d always thought ¡®Oath¡¯ was a title. Some kind of moderately important position in the government Delver department or something.


    And considering the fact that they were always out closing portals, it had to be busy.


    But he¡¯s talking about it like its not a title.


    What if they were not?


    Melmarc had never asked too many questions about the whole Oath thing because it was¡­ Well, because that was just how it was. It just had never seemed that important.


    Now he was wondering if Ark also saw it that way. If it was really a title.


    ¡°What do you mean proven on the losing side?¡± he asked Naymond.


    ¡°Not many Oaths are married,¡± he said. ¡°Right now, I think your parents are the only Oaths that are married to each other with kids. The only other Oaths I know are married have three kids and none of them are Gifted.¡±


    Melmarc paused. The entire Oath thing was beginning to sound important.


    ¡°Are you sure you should be telling me all this?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s beginning to sound a bit important. No, not a bit. It¡¯s beginning to sound very important.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Naymond chuckled. ¡°Are you going to tell me that you didn¡¯t know about it?¡±


    Melmarc did, just not to this extent.


    Oaths were not simply titles. They were more.


    What if they were like August Intruders in some way?


    What if that¡¯s why I¡¯m an August Intruder, he thought.


    At the same time, he doubted it.


    ¡°You knew, right?¡± Naymond repeated. ¡°You looked like you knew when I mentioned it.¡±


    ¡°I knew.¡±


    ¡°But?¡±


    ¡°I knew.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡± Naymond gave him a look. ¡°Because unless you¡¯ve suddenly learnt how to hide your facial expressions and I¡¯m reading you wrong, I should be right.¡±


    Melmarc frowned. The action was intentional, nothing else. It was odd that he did it. Odd that he lied so easily.


    ¡°So eerily like your father.¡± Naymond shivered dramatically. ¡°But the summary of this all is that people theorize that Oaths should somehow be able to pass it on to their offspring.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°They just think it should be possible since Oaths have traits. Recessive genes and all that. They speculate that the nature of their inevitable being makes their¡­ abilities more biological.¡±


    ¡°But my sister isn¡¯t Gifted,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°Maybe I just look like my dad because I look like my dad. He is my dad, after all.¡±


    Naymond shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± he said. ¡°Not you and your father. The Oath thing. They get something called traits once they get there. At least that¡¯s how they explain it. Some are for the better, some for the worst. Personally, I just think it¡¯s freaky.¡±


    Something was off. Melmarc could tell from just listening. Naymond was talking too much. It wasn¡¯t unnatural for him to talk too much but there was something different about this one.


    He¡¯s rambling, Melmarc realized.


    Again, that wasn¡¯t entirely new.


    Naymond always rambled, but when he did, it was systematic. He said a lot but it always seemed like everything he said was said to place some form of confusion. One truth told to hide three lies. Three truths told to hide one lie.


    There¡¯s always an angle. It¡¯s always hard to tell but it¡¯s always there.


    ¡°¡­ Every Gifted gets skills and stats,¡± Naymond was saying. ¡°Even the SS-ranks only get those. The only thing we know that¡¯s special about them is when one gets a world skill. They are important and the world has studied them since the beginning of time. But traits,¡± he snorted, ¡°those are entirely different. They aren¡¯t simply magical. From what we can tell, they are embedded in the Gifted¡¯s very being, like the DNA.¡±


    He¡¯s telling me everything, Melmarc realized.


    It didn¡¯t make sense to him.


    What were the chances Naymond was simply playing one of his games, talking so that there will be more things to say that he can keep himself from saying?


    ¡°¡­So the possibility was not lost,¡± Naymond went on. ¡°As rare and impossible as it sounds, there aren¡¯t many Oaths that can get along with each other. The very nature of what they are does not allow it. But then Oaths get together and we found what we found. It¡¯s all speculations and remain the same, but there are those who have now come to believe that the very source of skills lay in the biology and not some magical concept. Some of those people are good while some are bad.¡±


    He¡¯s still rambling.


    It wasn¡¯t making sense.


    ¡°¡­So imagine this. What happens when two Oaths come together to have an offspring? Skills have already been accepted as things that cannot be passed on, but what of traits? Just as the world beginning with the big bang was theorized, history has since theorized that the first ever Gifted were these Oaths, and the very nature of their traits exist amongst every one else as recessive genes. You did recessive and dominant genes in school, right?¡±


    Melmarc was getting uncomfortable with how much Naymond was talking.


    As if to prove a point, Naymond took a deep breath. He tried to keep it calm and controlled, tried to hide it, but squatted so close to Naymond, Melmarc caught it, saw the breath he sucked in.


    He really was rambling.


    But why?


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed and Naymond frowned.


    ¡°The theory,¡± Naymond went on, his voice more controlled now, ¡°is that all their traits ended up dormant in everyone and those with a low enough dormancy became Gifted. It¡¯s the same way it is rare for two people who are short to have a tall child. Rare but not impossible. All you have to do is check back far enough or maybe not far and you will find a relative that was tall.¡±


    Melmarc raised a hand and Naymond stopped talking.


    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± he asked, genuinely worried. ¡°All I wanted to know was how you know my dad.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Naymond paused. ¡°I used to have a¡­ I guess you could call it a contract with the government before I became a felon.¡±


    Melmarc raised a questioning brow. ¡°A contract?¡±


    Naymond nodded. ¡°A contract.¡±


    Not for the first time, Melmarc wanted to ask what Naymond¡¯s crime or crimes were. He stopped the urge knowing he would not be getting an answer.


    Instead, he focused on what he now knew.


    ¡°So Oath¡¯s may or may not be able to pass on these traits to their children,¡± he mused. ¡°And how exactly do these traits work? Are there mental effects? Physical effects?¡±


    ¡°They vary,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°Some times there are mental effects. Sometimes it¡¯s physical. There¡¯s an Oath whose trait allowed his body secrete a toxin that turned into mist. Everyone always thought it was a skill but it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    Dark Mist, Melmarc thought.


    He was the only Delver he knew could do it. And Dark Mist had died during the attack on his home long ago.


    ¡°Do you know my father¡¯s trait?¡± he asked.


    Naymond opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and Melmarc watched him struggle to shut it back up.


    It seems this is as far as he¡¯s willing to tell me.


    Melmarc was more than happy to take what he had gotten. He had no idea why Naymond had been so forthcoming with him but he wasn¡¯t going to complain about it.


    He had always been a fan of the truth, after all.


    ¡°Horribly uncanny,¡± Naymond muttered, his voice so low it was as if he was talking to himself.


    Melmarc caught a tick in the Sage¡¯s jaw. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was from keeping his mouth shut or if he was angry at himself. Right now, it didn¡¯t matter. What mattered was leaving the portal.


    Melmarc almost laughed at himself.


    Look at you, trying to kill a Demi-god.


    Melmarc got up from his squatted position, rose to his feet.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Naymond asked.


    ¡°I already told you.¡± Melmarc paused, surprised by his response. Why did it sound rude to him? ¡°I¡¯m going to clear the portal.¡±


    ¡°Single minded focus.¡± Naymond said the word as if it was some kind of diagnosis. ¡°You didn¡¯t have it before, not this single minded at least.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it.


    Maybe Naymond was right. Maybe this was a result of the notification he¡¯d seen after killing the last [Damned].


    Or was it the other way around?


    Melmarc was having doubts about the interfaces.


    Were they what gave people the abilities they had or were they simply the out come of the abilities a person had.


    Were they there to offer you the skills and the notifications or were they there to inform you of the skills and the notifications.


    Single minded focus, Melmarc thought. It was an odd thing to think about since his mind was focused on different things.


    He merely picked one to work on while his mind continued to think of Ark and Delano and his parents and the betrayer that was David Swan¡­


    And much more.


    ¡°I still wouldn¡¯t advise trying to clear the portal,¡± Naymond said.


    Melmarc stood over him, head bent forward so that he could look at him.


    ¡°Why?¡± he asked. ¡°Do you believe I should remain here?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Because of your injuries?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°Because a Portal is no place for a child.¡±


    Neither was an undercover sting, the thoughts bubbled up and Melmarc almost opened his mouth to say them.


    But there was a part of him that felt the act of saying them was unnecessary. A part of him remained a constant reminder that while Naymond and Alfa had a share in the blame, so did he. Tossing out harsh words was going to do nothing.


    Perhaps there was another reason, though.


    ¡°Is it because of Caldath?¡± he asked. ¡°Do you think I can¡¯t take whatever Caldath is?¡±


    Naymond looked at him, confused.


    ¡°You mean the Orb of Caldath?¡± he said.


    He didn¡¯t get a quest for Caldath.


    There was a finality to the thought. A certainty.


    Fighting Caldath really was a personal quest. Again, Melmarc wondered if it was optional. The quest had told him nothing in the way of that.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Naymond said. ¡°What matters is that a Portal is no place for a child or a non-combat Gifted. We should wait a little longer, I¡¯m sure there will soon be Delvers coming. Once they find us, they¡¯ll help get us out.¡±


    ¡°What if they don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Then they will clear the Portal and it will get us out.¡±


    Melmarc had doubts for the second part of Naymond¡¯s answer. He had a strong feeling that there would be no leaving for him until his personal quest was done.


    There are always more questions, he thought, remembering Veebee.


    But first, maybe it was time to confirm an answer to Naymond¡¯s speculation of if Oaths passed on their abilities to their children as dormant genes.


    With a thought his interface came up.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Base mastery is at 10%]


    [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 10.89%)(12.89%)].


    [Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?]


    ¡­


    [Please know that you can renege on this decision.]


    ¡­


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    These were old notifications. He had already answered them on his way back to the room. Still, there was something calming about looking through them.


    His interface had offered him only one alternate skill just as it had done when [Knowledge is Power] had been up to ten percent mastery.


    [Secrecy]


    The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.


    ¡­[Would you like to choose Secrecy? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    ¡­


    [You have selected skill Secrecy. This has been permanently added to your skill list.]


    Melmarc had chosen it, so he moved his notification on to the next piece of information. Only one part of it had been interesting to read. Also, it didn¡¯t read like a support skill. It read like a main skill.


    Secrecy (Mastery 02.00%)


    Upon conclusion of [Rings of Saturn], focused mana is unbound and released


    You cannot use other skills within area of skill¡¯s effect.


    Two blasts before every cooldown will be available.


    +30% damage if effect is applied within a sentient life form.


    Melmarc assumed the last part would be like the difference between throwing a grenade on the ground and putting it inside a person¡¯s mouth.


    Thirty percent was a lot. But even that wasn¡¯t the highlight of it all. He¡¯d thought so, but he¡¯d been wrong.


    [Criteria Met]


    [Complete mana assimilation discovered]


    [Unlocking August Intruder perk]


    [You have received Optimum Existence]


    [Sapient Life forms are the epitome of their very being, striving on the path of perfection.]


    Optimum Existence (0.00%)


    The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.


    [Alert!]


    [Ambient mana is tainted, progress is halted.]


    [Alternate source of progression detected]


    [EP detected]


    [Would you like to consume EP to resume progress?]


    [Y/N]


    It was as if this path had been inevitable. The interface was telling him that this was the reason for [EP].


    Everything was too systematic, too strategic.


    It solidified Melmarc¡¯s believe that the interfaces were more than the body¡¯s interpretation of itself.


    The interfaces were far more.


    Regardless, he¡¯d agreed, chosen the affirmative.


    [EP Detected: 984]


    [EP Consumed: 980]


    [Progress initiated]


    [Progressing¡­ Progressing¡­ Progressing¡­]


    [Insufficient EP detected]


    [Progression halted]


    [Please relocate to area with pure mana or acquire more EP]


    [EP remaining: 4]


    [Optimum Existence (02.00%)]


    As interesting as it all looked, none of it was making sense to Melmarc. But Naymond had given him an answer, though.


    If [Optimum Existence] was giving him access to all usable traits and Oaths passed down their traits as dormant genes somehow, then it only stood to reason that an Oath¡¯s trait would fall under useful traits in the path of achieving perfection.


    Right?


    He turned his attention back to Naymond and the look on Naymond¡¯s face clicked. The look he¡¯d noticed hiding behind everything else finally had a name. He finally recognized it.


    Fear.


    But why? Naymond had no reason to be afraid. At least, not of him. So why was the Sage scared.


    ¡°Do you know that this feels kind of like an unsanctioned interrogation?¡± Naymond¡¯s words slithered into his mind, called up from memory ¡°I mean, here I am, a defenseless man, unable to stand up for myself. You have me in a corner and it feels like I need help and you won¡¯t help me if I don¡¯t give you the answer you¡¯re looking for.¡±


    The thought made him sick. Did Naymond really believe that he would do such a thing? Was that why he¡¯d been rambling? Because he didn¡¯t want Melmarc to leave him?


    The thought disgusted him to the point that he could almost taste the bile in his throat.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if Naymond¡¯s lack of trust said a lot about how the man saw him now that he¡¯d witnessed him kill monsters or if it said a lot about Naymond as a person.


    He knelt in front of Naymond, a single knee to the ground.


    ¡°I will not leave you to die,¡± he said.


    He needed Naymond to know that.


    ¡°We will find a way to deal with your injuries, then I will clear the Portal.¡±


    His words did nothing to alleviate the fear he could see hidden beneath it all. It saddened him slightly to note that Naymond did not believe him.


    But it did not sadden him enough.

 FIFTY EIGHT: Did I lose Something?

    Clinton frowned as he stepped out of the portal. There was a certain sense of disorientation then came with it as he stepped his foot on wet ground.


    ¡°Fucking hell!¡± he swore, raising his leg and looking down at the ground. ¡°This shit stinks.¡±


    He had ended up in what looked like a swampy region. But the water wasn¡¯t so swampy. It was muddy and green, yes. But it was too shallow.


    Clinton cast his gaze around and was welcome to the sight of trees, green and luscious. Whatever specifically this place was, it was bright and clear.


    Swamps were usually murkier.


    Four more people stepped out from behind him. They staggered slightly and he held his arms out to his sides to stop them from staggering further.


    Nelson, the tank, a large enough man, staggered past his arm and splashed up more of the murky green water.


    Clinton winced as splatters stained his pants.


    He liked these pants. Now he found himself hoping the portal stains would wash off once he got back home.


    Nelson looked at him with a face that looked as if he was expecting a fight, and Clinton did his best to remind himself of the fact that Nelson wasn¡¯t expecting a fight, his face just always looked like he was.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Nelson said in a deep voice.


    Clinton waved the man¡¯s apology aside. ¡°No problem, big guy. They¡¯re just pants.¡±


    Behind him, Claire, Jude and Jed stood patiently. Jed was actually Jedidiah, but when he¡¯d introduced himself, he¡¯d made it a point to state that he be called Jed.


    So he was Jed.


    ¡°Anybody else feel like we were being watched in the portal?¡± Claire asked.


    She was a [Brewer of Life] and they were known for their high awareness of life. If she had a feeling something had been watching them, then something had definitely been watching them.


    Clinton had heard enough rumors of Life affinity classes feeling eyes on them when entering portals to know it was also not in her head.


    ¡°It¡¯s probably all in your head,¡± Jude said. ¡°Everything about this mission is wrong and you¡¯re probably just worried.¡±


    Jude was right about the mission but not the sense of being watched.


    He remembered how confused he had been to wake up in the middle of the night to a voice mail from The Blight. The Delver never asked for a favor, which already bumped up the priority of this exact meeting.


    Clinton had called back almost immediately, more than ready to do the Delver a favor. After all, he owed the man more favors than he had fingers and toes to count with.


    Then he¡¯d gotten the gist.


    A child in a Portal was a terrible thing. And any Delver unwilling to drop everything and help needed to look themselves in the mirror and ask themselves the important questions.


    Clinton shook his head, dissuaded his own thoughts and focused on what was important.


    ¡°Alright, everyone,¡± he said loud enough to be heard. ¡°On me.¡±


    Nobody moved and Clinton almost smacked himself on the forehead.


    They¡¯re already on you.


    ¡°Claire, I need an update,¡± he said, pretending he¡¯d not just asked people already with him to come to him. ¡°I need to know how many lifeforms are with us. We haven¡¯t gotten the quest yet doesn¡¯t mean that there¡¯s no quest.¡±


    Claire¡¯s blue eyes turned a soft pink and she stood motionless for a few seconds before they returned to being blue.


    ¡°None,¡± she answered easily.


    ¡°That¡¯s strange,¡± Nelson said. ¡°I hear movement.¡±


    Jed nodded. ¡°Me, too.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s the trees,¡± Jude pointed out.


    Clinton was hoping Jude wasn¡¯t going to end up being one of those brain stormers who liked to fancy themselves to be the devil¡¯s advocate of the group. Whenever you offered an idea, they always felt it was their job to counteract it, prove it wrong somehow.


    He hated working with guys like that.


    ¡°I say it¡¯s¡ª¡±


    His interface flashed in front of him, disrupting his words and line of thought as they all received their quest.


    [Welcome to The Ruins of Caldath]


    ¡­


    [Portal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free these innocent servants from their unfair damnation.


    [Portal Objective: Find the orb of Caldath.]


    Clinton read the quest twice with a frown.


    I really hope its not an undead quest, he thought.


    Undead quests were annoying because you rarely ever gained anything from them. They tended to have no minerals that could be mined and brought back. They also rarely ever had any allotted rewards gained upon conclusion of the quests.


    For example, the quest only had an objective and no reward upon completion of the objective.


    He waited for everyone to stop staring at the empty space in front of them before he resumed speaking, moving their conversation to strategies.


    ¡°Claire,¡± he said and the lady perked up. ¡°How do your skills come up against undead?¡±


    ¡°You think we might be facing undead?¡± she asked with a touch of worry.


    Clinton nodded. ¡°I would say so. If we are dealing with soulless creatures, then I think it¡¯s safe to assume that they will be undead.¡±


    ¡°But it said nothing about them dying,¡± Jude said.


    Definitely a self proclaimed Devil¡¯s advocate.


    Clinton knew the kind and hated the kind.


    ¡°I never got an answer, Claire,¡± Clinton said, ignoring Jude.


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t say. I¡¯ve never been in an undead portal.¡±


    Clinton nodded. That was good. It seemed The Blight had only contacted the reasonable Delvers. Maybe he would be working with a reasonable team today. All except Jude, though.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, drawing everyone¡¯s attention to him. ¡°We can¡¯t devote our scouting eyes to Claire completely, so those of us with sharp senses, I¡¯m talking of you, Nelson, will play scout support.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t expect the tank to play support,¡± Jude said.


    Clinton rounded on him. ¡°And I can¡¯t expect you to keep playing Mr. Opposite anytime I or anyone else says anything. It was agreed that I would lead this quest. So you can either obey or take your own path to completing it that has nothing to do with us. Got it?¡±


    Jude was silent. The Delver met Clinton¡¯s gaze for a few seconds before looking away.


    ¡°Got it,¡± he answered finally.


    Clinton had no strength or time to be second guessed every time he had something to say. If a leader was being second guessed for every decision he made, at some point in time, he was going to start second guessing himself.


    He couldn¡¯t have that.


    Not when a child¡¯s life is at stake.


    ¡°Nelson, it seems like you have sharp ears,¡± he continued. ¡°So keep them open and pay attention. Claire, spam that skill any chance you get. You feel odd in anyway¡ªlike we¡¯re being watched¡ªspam it. Keep your attention on your mana, though. The last thing we need is our healer falling into mana fatigue when we need them most.¡±


    Claire nodded. Nelson did the same.


    ¡°Nelson, you¡¯ll take point,¡± Clinton continued. ¡°You¡¯re the tank so we¡¯ll need you to suck up as much damage as you can. You think you can do that?¡±


    Nelson nodded.


    Clinton nodded. ¡°Good. Jude, you¡¯ll watch our rear. If it moves, shoot it. If guns don¡¯t work, then we know what we¡¯re dealing with.¡±


    ¡°Shoot first?¡± Jude asked.


    Clinton pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. The man sounded like he had a complaint to make on that. A disagreement.


    Clinton didn¡¯t want to hear it.


    But he wasn¡¯t going to simply dismiss the man. It wasn¡¯t like this was his team that he worked with all the time. He couldn¡¯t expect blind obedience from them. They would have questions to some of the instructions he gave.


    ¡°Yes, Jude,¡± he said. ¡°Shoot first. That way we know if normal weapons work on them. If they do, then we know that it will be a while before we¡¯ll have to start using up our mana. The first thing every Delver knows is to confirm if normal weapons work first. If they do, survivability goes up. Got it?¡±


    Jude nodded.


    ¡°Good.¡± Clinton turned his attention to Jed. ¡°You¡¯ll stay behind Nelson. You¡¯re our damage dealer so while he holds their attention, you¡¯ll cut them down, got it?¡±


    Jed nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep my eyes on Claire in case any unaccounted variable pops up.¡± Clinton looked between each person, made sure they understood their roles. Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s head out.¡±


    [<<Don¡¯t do too much>>]


    Clinton froze.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Claire blurted out. ¡°Tell me I¡¯m not the only one seeing this.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m seeing it, too,¡± Nelson said. ¡°Never heard of something like this happening before.¡±


    Neither had Clinton.


    When Delvers entered portals, they got their quests and that was it, nothing else. The world did not go the extra mile of telling you anything else.


    Worse, you did not get the feeling that you were being warned.


    Don¡¯t do too much? What the hell does that even mean?


    Clinton looked at each member of his team, while they seemed worried by the words in front of them, hovering three feet in front of the group, they weren¡¯t scared.


    That was a good thing. Quests were given by the interface, their bodies interpreting the mana of the portal and showing them what had to be done to resolve it.


    But this piece of information, this warning, because reading it gave that specific sense, like they were being warned, wasn¡¯t being given by their interface.


    It stood in the air, staring at all of them.


    Their interfaces had nothing to do with it.


    What the hell did I agree to do, Blight?


    Nelson turned suddenly, the action sharp and precise.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got contact!¡± his voice bellowed through the distance


    Then the explosive sound of a long machine gun going off filled the air. Nelson was firing away with what seemed like reckless abandon.


    When Clinton turned in the direction their tank was firing, he frowned at the sight.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Infants were crawling out of the water, and mounting the surface of it, pulling themselves upwards. Covering their bodies were centipedes and bugs Clinton couldn¡¯t identify.


    Nelson¡¯s bullets pinged off their heads, leaving cracks but nothing too powerful. As for the infants, if the gunshots affected them, they didn¡¯t show it. Their eyes simply focused and their mouths opened.


    ¡°Combat!¡± Clinton called out, dreading their opened mouths. ¡°Defend yourselves!¡±


    A massive wave of mana burst out from Nelson, a tank¡¯s skill. It was most likely designed to draw attention to himself. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t let it off on time.


    Before the infants¡¯ attention turned on him, one of them blitzed through the air like a fired bullet.


    Clinton turned in time to dodge the attack. Unfortunately, Jude was not as fast as him.


    The infant¡¯s mouth clamped down on his neck and its small stubby limbs clamped onto him.


    Jude let out an ear piercing scream.


    The Portal had already begun exterminating them.


    ¡­


    Naymond was stupid.


    Well, actually, stupid wasn¡¯t the word he was looking for but it was a close enough synonym to it.


    I really need to restart my sessions with Alna, he thought, eyes still fixed on Melmarc.


    The boy was staring at nothing, most likely keeping up with whatever his interface was trying to show him.


    Yet, he looked like the spitting image of his father. And Naymond didn¡¯t mean it as a compliment.


    A single look had made him almost piss his pants. Melmarc had been looking at him the way Madness tended to look at people when he knew the truth and was deciding on what to do with them the moment they lied.


    The outcome if such a person lied was rarely ever good.


    One look and you folded.


    It was disgraceful. He¡¯d witnessed what Melmarc could do to the [Damned] and had known when it came to a head on collision, even without his [Faker] abilities, he was most likely not a match for the boy.


    Then the boy had put on his father¡¯s face and Naymond had just started rambling, revealing everything he knew.


    Even after deciding not to say much so you don¡¯t get in trouble with Madness.


    In his sessions with Alna over his fear of portals, she had speculated that it was possible he was also significantly terrified of Madness, enough for it to be traumatic.


    Back then Naymond had refused to accept it out of nothing but stubbornness. He wasn¡¯t completely stupid, though. He had suspected it back then, but only because he felt his fear of Madness had been healthy enough.


    People who had witnessed what the Oath was capable of had a healthy enough fear for the man. Healthy enough to push past their other fears and do what they would not normally do.


    But this¡­ what had just happened was not the display of anything healthy. He¡¯d been terrified. He¡¯d played it cool with the joviality and the use of a lot of words but he¡¯d been terrified out of his mind just looking at Melmarc.


    That was not healthy at all.


    Done with whatever he was checking, Melmarc turned back to him.


    The boy was large, even squatting.


    What is he? Naymond thought. Six three?


    He had definitely grown since entering the portal.


    Naymond was about to speak again when he took a single knee.


    ¡°I will not leave you to die,¡± Melmarc said out of nowhere.


    It was a funny thing to say. In fact, the simple fact that he¡¯d chosen to say it was beginning to give Naymond an odd feeling that Melmarc might have considered the possibility at some point.


    No, Naymond disagreed with himself.


    That was something Madness was capable of doing. Actually, that was something Madness would¡¯ve done before he¡¯d met his wife. The Madness Naymond knew now would not leave anyone behind unless he absolutely had to.


    Also, Melmarc wasn¡¯t that kind of person. Even his size wasn¡¯t normally as intimidating because of how withdrawn he tended to be.


    Once upon a time Alfa had commented on the fact that the boy didn¡¯t even seem to have a presence. Apparently, she claimed it was possible to be in the same room with him and forget he was there if he wasn¡¯t the one being addressed.


    Personally, Naymond didn¡¯t know the feeling. He was always aware of everything around him. Even something as insignificant as lint.


    It turned out that Melmarc wasn¡¯t done because he added: ¡°We will find a way to deal with your injuries, then I will clear the Portal.¡±


    Say that with a little more facial expression please, Naymond thought.


    Still, it seemed like the boy hadn¡¯t figured out that the way the portal worked, as long as they did not injure themselves any further, they could stay alive forever even with fatal injuries. To die here, whoever was killing you had to quite literally finish the job.


    Maybe if I say nothing, he¡¯ll stay with me so I don¡¯t die.


    It was an underhanded tactic to be using, especially as an adult, but¡­


    Naymond would lie any lie as long as it ensured Melmarc¡¯s safety right now. The last thing he needed was the boy going off on his own to complete his quest only to not come back.


    That would be irresponsible of me, twice over.


    Melmarc had almost died because of him. Twice. The last thing he wanted to do was allow the boy go and get himself killed because of some decision to be a hero.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°How can we deal with the injury. Are there any herbs you noticed around that can help?¡±


    Naymond paled further at the way Melmarc stared at him. What was the likelihood that he already had the answer to the question? He¡¯d been walking around for almost two weeks and was in a far better health state than Naymond.


    It was possible he already knew something, even more possible that he knew more about the portal than Naymond.


    What was it he said? Naymond thought.


    It had been something about Caldath and not even the Orb.


    What had he witnessed that had led him to believe that Caldath had any hand in the portal right now? From what Naymond knew, Caldath was merely a part of the story. This portal¡¯s history.


    It was like coming to earth a million years later and finding out that you could not do something because of the Christian''s Ark of the covenant.


    In such a situation you would speak of the Ark of the covenant and not the Christian God.


    Right?


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock?¡±


    ¡°My injuries are actually fine,¡± Naymond blurted out. ¡°Injuries don¡¯t heal in this portal but they don¡¯t worsen. If nothing happens to me I can stay here, like this, until help arrives.¡±


    So much for lying to keep him safe, Naymond groaned.


    If we make it out of here alive, the first thing I¡¯m doing is booking a session with Alna.


    He could handle being terrified of Madness but being terrified of a sixteen-year-old simply because he was a spitting image of his father was just unfair. Both to him and Melmarc.


    Why can¡¯t he look like his mom?


    At least War was less terrifying to look at. She only went full Oath when she was taking a fight seriously or was extremely angry.


    ¡°Is there anything else we know about the portal?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Naymond gave it a quick thought. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you¡¯ve done it so far but these things attached to me don¡¯t come off unless you kill all the monsters that are around them.¡±


    ¡°My skill works on them, too,¡± Melmarc said absently, as if it wasn¡¯t very important.


    He stopped looking at Naymond to stare out the window behind Naymond. He wasn¡¯t looking at anything from what Naymond could deduce, merely staring.


    Naymond doubted he was looking at his interface.


    ¡°Something always bugged me about how the night and day works here,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°I always see the sunset into the dark time of the day¡­¡± Melmarc shook his head as if he¡¯d just caught himself talking nonsense. ¡°I always see the night, but not morning. I blink and its day time.¡±


    The night part of the day, Naymond noted. The boy¡¯s beginning to talk like his father.


    ¡°Funny enough, I figured that one out,¡± Naymond replied.


    That caught a lot of Melmarc¡¯s attention because Melmarc looked back at him. ¡°You did?¡±


    Must¡¯ve really been bugging him.


    ¡°I did,¡± he nodded. ¡°So I think this world is controlled by the Orb of Caldath, and seeing as it may or may not be intelligent and living, it has probably tied the cycle of the day to the monsters here. I¡¯ve noticed that sunrise¡ªin my experience¡ªhappens when one of them wakes up.¡±


    ¡°An orb can be intelligent and living?¡± Melmarc asked, confused.


    At least, Naymond liked to think it was confusion since the boy was quite lacking in any facial expressions right now.


    ¡°Depends,¡± Naymond said. ¡°Some SS-rank items tend to possess some level of consciousness and intelligence. We¡¯re still trying to figure out why.¡±


    Melmarc paused in sudden thought and Naymond waited. The silence lasted for as long as it took for a coin to hit the ground from a coin toss when Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed.


    ¡°What if that was just a coincidence?¡± he said, his face generating his first expression which was just a softening of its placidity. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t think about it, but what if it¡¯s tied to Caldath.¡±


    Again with the Caldath. Now, Naymond was certain there was something about the portal that he had no clue about.


    Normally, he would¡¯ve dismissed it entirely based on his experience as a Delver. But his experience as a Delver was also the reason he could not dismiss it.


    He had seen the portal creature. It had not spoken but the simple fact that it had presented itself in full view of him was already saying more than enough.


    From what he knew, they only made themselves present to full view instead of standing in some corner on two occasions. The first was when an Oath was involved in the delving, and the second was when the portal ended up being worse than what was common for its rank.


    For a while he¡¯d thought the portal difficulty was unnecessarily high when he¡¯d been having his ass handed to him by the creatures but had discarded that based on the simple fact that he was not a combat class.


    Then he¡¯d seen Melmarc fight them and that had solidified his agreement that the monsters were not unnaturally strong for their class.


    Then he¡¯d considered that maybe the difficulty would lie further down, towards the towering castle that stood almost as high as the sun.


    But what if Caldath is what makes it difficult.


    ¡°What do you know about Caldath?¡± he asked Melmarc.


    The more they knew about the portal, the better they could help anyone who ended up venturing into it.


    ¡°That he¡¯s a demi-god,¡± Melmarc said.


    Naymond paused. ¡°Not a god?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Not a god. The quest I got says he¡¯s a demi-god. I don¡¯t think Veebee would send me after an actual god. Et snit gohe g the pf ytl eodht.¡±


    Naymond¡¯s jaw dropped.


    This was a new problem.


    ¡°Say that again,¡± he said.


    ¡°F tjbbgpog hgt dgutos gtk,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Personally, unless it¡¯s a god like Zeus, I can¡¯t see how I can possibly fight it. I don¡¯t even think anyone can take Zeus in a fight if he¡¯s real.¡±


    Naymond would¡¯ve run a frustrated hand through his hair if he could, but he couldn¡¯t. This was another problem. A significant one that had to be kept away from the government for the child¡¯s sake.


    Slowly, fearfully, Naymond asked, ¡°Who¡¯s Veebee, Mr. Lockwood?¡±


    ¡°Veebee¡¯s aohuta ghth aoosht hyt fht lsoth eohgt ela¡¯.¡±


    What was going on could only mean one thing.


    He met the portal being. This is just not my month. Maybe I should change jobs once we get out of here.


    Naymond knew he wasn¡¯t going to change jobs. There was very little chance that the Romanian council could be stopped if he decided to abandon the entire duty of disrupting their plans.


    Still, it was a very strong thought.


    He would¡¯ve loved to ask what happened between Melmarc and the portal creature¡ªVeebee.


    I can¡¯t believe he named it.


    Unfortunately, any conversation made about the creature tended to get lost in translation. Very heavily. But there were some things that could be addressed. Things that did not reveal what the creature was or its actual existence.


    Wait, Naymond thought with a frown. If he already has a name for it then did he name it or did it give him its name?


    That was a rollercoaster of a question.


    If Melmarc had named the creature, then that would mean that they¡¯d had a conversation long enough for names to be necessary. Those creatures didn¡¯t have long conversations. And the few conversations Naymond had ever witnessed them having were short and filled with the aura of condescension. And that was towards Oaths.


    There was also that one SS-rank.


    But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Melmarc had a name for the creature and that was only possible on two occasions. The first was if the creature had given him its name, which implied that it respected him enough to give its name or was fond of him enough.


    You did not give your name to someone you didn¡¯t acknowledge in the slightest, which was normal behavior for those creatures.


    The second was if Melmarc had had a conversation with the thing. An honest to God conversation and not an exchange of one or two sentences.


    If the second was the case, then Naymond could only deduce that the conversation had been nice enough, because the name Veebee sounded nice, like a nickname. You did not give a nice nickname to someone who had given you a terrible impression.


    But why?


    From what Naymond knew, only Sages who¡¯d reached a certain threshold in their intelligence stats could see and hear the thing. He¡¯d only started seeing them when his stats had gotten to 16 points.


    The only other way to see them was if they chose to talk to a member of the party, which tended to be Oaths and that one SS-rank guy.


    So what made Melmarc special? Was he just unlucky?


    Naymond thought of how many Gifted children had entered portals. Worldwide, the numbers were in the fifties. In America, maybe eight.


    All of them had been dumb kids dong dumb things.


    Make that nine, with the new reason of irresponsible adults.


    Still, he doubted any of them had seen anything. There was still always the possibility that whatever outcome had become of their entry and successful exit had led them to silence.


    Maybe the creatures only talk to kids?


    It was a possibility. There was also the possibility that it only happened because Melmarc was the son of not just one Oath but two.


    The thoughts were becoming numerous on the single subject, yet Naymond could not ignore it. For him it was as intriguing a topic as the existence of an actual god.


    But why was Melmarc expected to fight a demi-god? And how was he going to¡ª


    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Naymond asked suddenly, straining his ears.


    ¡°Hear what?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Naymond waited again, closed his eyes to blot out the distraction of sight so he could focus on his sense of sound.


    It came again.


    ¡°That,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s like a continuous popping sound.¡±


    Melmarc closed his eyes for only a moment before opening them.


    ¡°A new kind of monster?¡± he asked, a touch of worry slipping into his face.


    He was becoming less like his father and more like himself. It was slow but Naymond was glad for it.


    Naymond shook his head in response.


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I know that sound. Gunshots.¡±


    ¡°And gunshots mean people,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°Delvers.¡±


    If they were shooting, then it meant they had run into trouble. All Naymond and Melmarc had to do was wait them out and they would be fine.


    I really hope they have a healer.


    ¡°Alright, Mr. Lo¡ª¡±


    Naymond¡¯s words died on his lips as Melmarc darted past him and vaulted through the window behind him.


    I just cannot get a break, Naymond groaned. What¡¯s a guy got to do to fix his mistakes?


    ¡­


    Clinton stood next to a tree, firing at the enemy. With his strength stats there was nothing in the way of recoil as far as he was concerned. He just had to be steady, so that the weapon didn¡¯t buck from its own recoil.


    The sound of gunshots filled the air and things were already going south.


    Claire was down, bleeding from a hole in her neck, and some of the critters that had once been on the infants that were currently cornering them were crawling around in her neck.


    She wasn¡¯t dead, but she was unable to use her skills. It was a terrible thing when your healer couldn¡¯t heal.


    She was currently in Nelson¡¯s protection, hiding behind another tree while he covered their six, shooting in the opposite direction from Clinton.


    They¡¯d been here for half an hour now, having already alternated between guns and their skills. Now they were back to using guns.


    Skills were more effective than guns but guns also worked. They just took a long time to put down a single enemy.


    Clinton didn¡¯t like it, but with their healer technically down, they needed a way out. They needed safety.


    They¡¯d been falling back since the fight started, making a straight line for the exit. They were close now and Clinton could feel it.


    All you have to do is make sure not allow your fear of losing your healer lead you to stupid mistakes.


    ¡°Jude!¡± he bellowed as he darted further back, turning to put three bullets in an infant¡¯s head as it dived through the air. ¡°I need a gravity ball this side, ASAP!¡±


    His bullets didn¡¯t kill the infants, but they knocked it astray so that it skewed off target and landed in the water.


    A deep blue ball shot past him to Clinton a moment after and hit the ground. It exploded into a massive dome, catching a decent number of infants in its reach. Then it compressed, pinning all of them to the swampy surface.


    ¡°Grenade out!¡± Jed bellowed.


    A second later, a grenade dropped at the base of the small pile of infants without its pin. The explosion that followed sent them scattering.


    Clinton wasn¡¯t sure how many of the creatures died in the explosion.


    ¡°Clinton! To your left!¡±


    Clinton turned at Nelson¡¯s warning to the sight of more of the creatures crawling out of the water to their side.


    They were flanking them, even though Clinton didn¡¯t believe it was intentional.


    Shit! He swore, throwing the strap of his machine gun over his shoulder.


    If he was going to take care of this, he would need to use his skills. All of them were off cool-down but it didn¡¯t mean his mana levels were getting any better. His mana was growing very slowly. He could feel it.


    He pointed his hands forward only to pause in confusion.


    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Nelson bellowed.


    Clinton couldn¡¯t believe the words that came out of his mouth.


    He stopped and his hand went for his vest.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Jed asked.


    Clinton found him pointing at the new group of creatures in time to see a deep white ring as wide as his head flew into one of the creatures out of nowhere. It struck through, running it through the torso, then pinned it to the swamp ground.


    Something about the way it pulsed didn¡¯t sit right with Clinton.


    ¡°BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!¡± he bellowed as he turned to hide behind the tree he stood at.


    There was a quiet explosion. In fact, there was no sound to the explosion at all, but Clinton doubted that there was anyone present that didn¡¯t know there had been an explosion. It was just in the way the mana around them trembled.


    Clinton turned his attention to the point of the explosion when it was done and found all the creatures lying harmlessly on the ground. Around them, the other creatures had stopped as if in anticipation of something.


    Then Clinton realized what he was feeling like and he tapped at his vest.


    Did I lose something?

 FIFTY-NINE: All Good?

    The soft breeze blew against his skin as he ran, ruffling his hair.


    It was a strange sensation to feel the way he felt right now as Melmarc ran down the meadow. He¡¯d been talking to Naymond one moment and the next moment Naymond was pointing out the sounds of gunshot which implied the existence of humans.


    Then he¡¯d just moved., gone through the window and was on his way.


    Melmarc knew what had happened, it was just strange. He¡¯d thought of saving the people that were around, his mind had focused deeply on it even as he considered a lot of things like if Naymond had perhaps met Veebee.


    Then his body had chosen the one thing he could act on, his mind had elevated the priority status of saving the Delvers. Both mind and body had agreed that it was something they could do and had acted in unison.


    And despite how funny the idea of him saving Delvers was, it made complete sense to him that he could do it. This wasn¡¯t some misguided need to be useful like what had happened back in the mansion on their school trip. This was different.


    Melmarc¡¯s body knew it could help on account of having fought for days and knowing the enemy, at least more than the new Delvers. There was no incorrect assumption there. And his mind thought it could help on account of the fact that even if the creatures were too much for his body, he could always use his knowledge of the portal to help the Delvers.


    That level of instantaneous logic wasn¡¯t normal to Melmarc. He usually needed time to think things through, to figure things out.


    As he moved, he felt his legs pick up speed until he was running in small leaps. He¡¯d activated [Knowledge is Power] the moment he was out of the window and had selected [World of Insight].


    The moment [Knowledge is Power] was off cool down, he would use it again. There was no such thing as too many points in stats.


    Well¡­ there actually was, but that mostly applied to focusing on too few stats, theoretically speaking.


    The way stats worked, Melmarc had never heard of anyone losing their mind because of their stats. From what he knew, it was as if every skill gave the Gifted just the right amount of stat points in just the right stats to keep them growing more powerful while remaining sane.


    After Melmarc¡¯s second use of [Knowledge is Power] he could hear the gunshots loud and clear. His time in the portal had already let him know that the meadow was practically as large as a large town, which meant that there was a possibility that he would need to think about running the length of an entire town if he wanted to help the Delvers


    Luckily, he didn¡¯t. The gunshots didn¡¯t sound too far away. If he kept his current pace with his tattered shoes, he could be there in fifteen minutes.


    It also meant that if he could multi-task properly enough, he could get [Secrecy] down by the time he got to them.


    Since it worked with raw mana like [Rings of Saturn] and its abilities read like an extension of the skill, Melmarc assumed the same processes would be needed to activate the skill.


    Still, he tried activating it the way he would activate [Knowledge is Power] hoping to confirm something.


    He thought about the skill and simply willed it to be. To his dismay, nothing happened.


    It was sad to discover that any skill he gained from now on was a skill he wouldn¡¯t only need to learn how to use but a skill he would also need to learn how to activate.


    This is going to shave off time from my activation speed.


    While other Gifted would simply will their skills to activation, he would have to meet certain criteria.


    It was annoying but slightly understandable. But even as he considered all these things, there was a part of his mind that had a feeling that Naymond hadn¡¯t told him anything.


    Melmarc had learned that his parents¡¯ title of Oath wasn¡¯t a job position but an actual kind of designated rank like SS-rank and the others. He¡¯d also learned that they were rare, and important.


    If there was speculation that the first Gifted to walk the earth were Oaths and it was from their passed on traits, even if dormant, that other Gifted eventually gained skills and classes, then being an Oath had to be extremely rare¡­


    Right?


    In the processing of his thoughts on the matter, and on the possibility that he may or may not gain some traits of his parents, Melmarc raised his hand and twirled it.


    If he succeeded in getting out of the Portal, he would need to have a talk with both parents. He needed to know what specifically traits were and what theirs were. Because [Optimum Existence] seemed to be implying that in only a matter of time, he would possess whatever traits they had.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand lit up in a small glow born of the ring of mana that appeared around it. It was good to know that the same activation method for [Rings of Saturn] worked for [Secrecy].


    His feet arrived at a decline, where the meadow sloped downwards like a hill, and without thinking about it, his feet pushed him off the ground.


    Melmarc leapt over the distance and was falling.


    He¡¯d gone high. Very high. And his fall was long. The air rushed at him, slapping gently at his face and tussling his hair. The ground rushed up to meet him too as he descended.


    Melmarc noted this. With two bursts of [Knowledge is Power] he could jump from the ground to the first floor of a building quite easily.


    He hit the ground and his body tucked into itself and he dispersed the force of impact with a roll. When he came up to his feet, his running continued.


    His ring of mana was still glowing around his wrist and he noticed that he¡¯d left a burn mark amongst the grass where he¡¯d landed.


    Normally, Melmarc would tell his mind to focus on the task at hand and ignore the little things like the burn mark but his mind was focused.


    He threw the first ring of mana and it embedded itself in the ground ten feet away from him. It spun where it landed until it slowly dug a hole in the ground and vanished from sight.


    His mind catalogued it quickly.


    Melmarc thought about why that had happened. Unless he could somehow link his mind to the raw mana, there had to be a difference between the rings of mana for [Rings of Saturn] and [Secrecy].


    So he tried mentally commanding the second ring of mana to explode when he threw it and nothing happened. It embedded itself in the ground and dug another hole.


    It seemed his skills weren¡¯t entirely working like magic. They didn¡¯t automatically link themselves to his mind, and they didn¡¯t listen to him.


    It meant he had to figure it out another way.


    He¡¯d gone through all four rings of mana [Rings of Saturn] allowed him. Thoughts on the matter fluttered about in his head as he waited for the cool down and activated [Knowledge is Power] once more.


    The effects of the skill hit him not too long after.


    By the time he was close enough that the sounds of gunshots were more than a pop and actually gunshots, [Rings of Saturn] was off cool down and he had an idea.


    The skill said that he gathered raw mana to himself. By that logic, the raw mana didn¡¯t come from him, he called it from somewhere. He was merely the catalyst. And the more he kept it, the brighter it was and the stronger it was.


    What if the longer I have it, the stronger its bound?


    [Rings of Saturn] dealt in striking attacks but [Secrecy] seemed to follow the rule of explosion, which meant it likely had to shatter to be activated.


    The stronger something is held together the harder it is to break.


    If threw glass against a solid ground hard enough, it would shatter. But if you used the same force on a stone, the outcome would be different.


    Melmarc twirled his hand, considering the option. The moment he felt the ring of mana come alive around his wrist, he flung it again. It crossed the distance to embed itself in the ground.


    One, two¡­


    A smile touched Melmarc¡¯s lips as the ring pulsed and exploded on the third count.


    A three second time delay on impact.


    He watched the explosion in intrigue. It was wide, likely ten feet in diameter. Enough for two people to stand comfortably inside.


    It was also translucent, like looking through a transparent film if the film was without wrinkles or wobbles. You would notice it if you were paying attention.


    Then there was the effect outside of it, the way the mana in the air moved as if something had pushed it aside and there was suddenly a flood of ambient mana on this side of the explosion.


    Melmarc kept his mind on it, counting how long it would last as he ran straight into it. The moment he pierced into its field, [World of Insight] went haywire.


    Melmarc¡¯s focus went blind and deaf. With his eyes and ears he could see and hear, but [World of Insight] went crazy before it just winked out.


    It was as if he was trying to listen to things happen from a mile away while standing in front of the speakers at a party belonging to some metallic band while trying to spy on his neighbor from across the street in the middle of the night with no lights on while wearing sunshades.


    Melmarc kept going until his legs carried him out of the area of effect. Then he turned and continued running backwards until the effect simply dispersed.


    Four seconds, he noted as he turned and continued his mad dash towards the gunshots.


    As he ran, the scenery around him slowly became familiar. Melmarc noted it with each step as the grass grew higher and thicker beneath his feet and the buildings became a slow back drop into nothingness.


    The shots were basically coming from the area he¡¯d started at.


    Melmarc pulled himself to a stop and turned in its very obvious direction. All the certainty he¡¯d had to help the Delvers slowly eased from his mind.


    Could he still help them? Even now that he knew where they were?


    He stood, staring at the part of the meadow he had ventured into only once. Even then, he had been sure not to go in too deep.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Staring at the trees it brought him a sense of nostalgia. It took him to a time when the [Damned] were a threat he ran from. A time when survival had seemed impossible.


    He stared at the trees, mildly surprised at his hesitation.


    I thought you wanted to go straight for them, he thought, the words mocking himself.


    You kill a few [Damned] and suddenly you think you¡¯re all that.


    The condescension at himself stunned him. That was new. He doubted himself from time to time, everybody did, but Melmarc never remembered mocking himself.


    He took a single step forward, hesitated again.


    ¡°What if there aren¡¯t [Damned] in there?¡± he muttered to himself.


    It was a possibility.


    The [Damned] gave him the impression that they were actual people, or at least had once been actual people. They were humanoid and had items normal people would use attached to their hands. It was only safe to assume that something had gone wrong and they¡¯d somehow fused with their everyday items.


    And they only move around the buildings. Areas normal people would stay.


    But within the trees¡­


    For all he knew he could find himself face to face with a lion with a massive tree trunk for a tail or a snake covered in leaves.


    Or a gorilla with rock hands.


    None of them sounded like things he wanted to run into. If he ran out of skills to use, he didn¡¯t know how to fight against an animal. What would he do?


    Run.


    Melmarc shook the thought away.


    ¡°I can do this,¡± he said, pumping himself up and taking a step forward. ¡°I can take anything it throws at me.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc sighed. ¡°Alright, I can¡¯t take anything it throws at me but I can try.¡±


    Silence.


    He nodded, pleased with himself, and took another step forward.


    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go in there and try.¡±


    ¡­


    Melmarc leapt over a hole in the ground. It was deeper than it had any right to be and looked like something massive had burrowed downwards.


    He ignored it, running through the trees.


    Almost there, he thought, activating [Knowledge is Power] for the second time since entering this part of the portal.


    He noted something strange. At this point he was basically spamming [Knowledge is Power] and couldn¡¯t feel anything close to mana fatigue.


    Even the weight on his head that came with using the skill without copying an actual skill was a little too light in his opinion.


    He wondered if his new designation as [August Intruder] had anything to do with it. When he¡¯d had the [August Guest] and [Intruder] designations, the heaviness had been stronger and Naymond had said his form looked lacking in unity.


    A mixture instead of a compound.


    He¡¯d be stupid not to assume his status as [August Intruder] was not somehow a combination of [August Guest] and [Intruder] and Naymond had said his form was better now.


    What were the chances that the severity of the heaviness had had something to do with his form and his designations at the time?


    Melmarc rounded a tree as [Knowledge is Power] returned to him.


    The information he got was not very favorable.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +0.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 31.]


    [You have received 6 Potential buffs.]


    Melmarc ignored the skill list for now and focused on what was more important. The gunshots were already loud enough to deafen him.


    Two wounded. One severely wounded. Three fighting.


    He moved his hand, eyes focusing on a red indicator amidst the sea of trees and five green indicators. The moment the ring of mana appeared, he aimed and threw it.


    You have used [Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 1/2]


    The ring of mana cut through the air, took the straight path. Melmarc ignored it, believing it would hit its target and turned his attention to the skill list. He already knew his options and the one he wanted to choose.


    [Fist of Thunder (Mastery 2.00%)]


    The Gifted wraps their fist in electricity at a mana cost.


    [Vitality of the Drunk (Mastery 4.00%)]


    The Gifted intoxicates a target with life


    [Hand of Vitality (Mastery 8.00%]


    The Gifted has increased health and regeneration speed.


    [Waking Moments (10.00&]


    The Gifted requires far less sleep than most.


    [Soul Damnation (Mastery 08.00%)


    The damned damns their own soul into further damnation through the damnation of their soul by offering their soul to Caldath.


    [Sword of the Immortal (02.01%)]


    The Gifted cuts a target at the same strength regardless of health.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after ten minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:09.]


    Melmarc smiled at [Fist of Thunder] and selected [Vitality of the Drunk]. Now, he prayed he would not have to learn how it worked.


    Melmarc was happy to find out that he didn¡¯t as information flooded into him.


    He raised his hand and placed it over his mouth, then thought of the skill the same way he did with [Knowledge is Power]. There was a sweet taste with a sharp tingle. It reminded Melmarc of that one time Ark had convinced him to drink.


    A tingle filled his chest, the itching stopped, and Melmarc darted past a man hiding behind a tree with a machine gun.


    ¡°What the hell?¡±


    The words came from somewhere Melmarc didn¡¯t care to take note of. With [World of Insight] he would¡¯ve been able to tell.


    The thought made him realize that maybe he¡¯d been using [World of Insight] a little too much. As a [Faker] diversity was his strength.


    The itching in his chest wasn¡¯t completely gone, but Melmarc didn¡¯t think he could wait for it as one of the red indicators dived at him from outside the area of effect of [Secrecy].


    He spun, arm stretched outwards so that his fist smacked into the creature. His fist made contact with its head, sending it flying to the side.


    Melmarc felt the force of the blow and knew whatever he¡¯d struck was as sturdy as the [Damned]. It was simply too small.


    ¡°Get out of there!¡± someone bellowed.


    Melmarc ignored them.


    [Knowledge is power] told him that there were thirty-one life forms. If five were on his side, then they had twenty-six to kill.


    He just had to¡ª


    Another red indicator dived at him and he ducked in time to avoid it. He ignored the splashing at his feet as he moved around but felt the familiar weight of the critters as they fell on him, tiny red indicators attaching themselves to him.


    He would¡¯ve had much to say if he wasn¡¯t stopped in his tracks by what he saw.


    All around him children were crawling around the water, infants barely larger than what would be expected of one no older than a year. Each one looked wrong. Eyes too hollow, skin too pale and translucent, cracks running along them.


    There were even some that remained lifeless on the ground.


    Melmarc felt bile rise in his throat.


    ¡°Get out of there man!¡± someone shouted.


    Melmarc hesitated and something smacked into him from behind. Pain flared in his back as if he had been stabbed and he reached behind him to grab whatever it was.


    He tugged once to find it stuck to him, then tugged a second time with all his strength. His hand came away holding one of the infants. Critters crawled from its ears to climb up his hand and the numbness slowly began to settle in.


    They¡¯re just babies.


    ¡°¡­ For the love of God!¡± someone swore before a bullet blasted past Melmarc to put down one of the babies.


    Melmarc ducked a moment after, reflexes reacting slower than a moving bullet.


    You¡¯re being a burden, he thought in panic, throwing the baby he was holding aside. Pull yourself together.


    Be useful.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Melmarc muttered. ¡°Useful.¡±


    He heard steps rushing behind him, growing closer and closer. The Delvers he had come here to help were rushing into the chaos he had thrown himself into to help him as if he was a bigger burden than anything.


    Melmarc refused to be a burden. He hadn¡¯t jumped in her because he was foolish and thoughtless. He¡¯d jumped in because he knew he could handle this.


    The babies had simply been a surprise.


    They¡¯re just smaller [Damned], he told himself as he rose to his full height. They are nothing more than that.


    The footsteps came to a wet halt behind him and Melmarc didn¡¯t bother turning to look at it. Instead, he moved his hand in a steady twirl.


    You have activated [Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 3/4]


    He turned without thought and held his hand out, a ring of mana roiling around his wrist. One of the infants dived straight into it and he caught it.


    Then he squeezed.


    He felt a crack beneath his grip and, against his determination, winced.


    You have slain [Damned (C)]


    You have gained 63 EP


    Total EP 67


    Melmarc released the creature and it fell to the ground with a wet plop. The ring of mana on his hand was dying but he raised his hands up what should be a boxer¡¯s stance, but he didn¡¯t make fists, and his hands didn¡¯t stay still.


    He held them open and moved them in slow circles.


    You have activated [Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 2/4]


    A ring of mana gathered around his second wrist. Both rings were not bright, but they were there.


    Melmarc remembered a time when uncle Dorthna had given a bad reaction to fighting babies and he wondered if this was the reason. Perhaps it hadn¡¯t been because they were difficult to fight but because of the very idea of what you were fighting.


    It isn¡¯t right to hit babies¡­


    ¡°¡­But the [Damned] don¡¯t count,¡± Melmarc muttered.


    He struck with a jab as a baby flew through the air and his fist cracked its face, sending it tumbling through the air past him.


    When it hit the ground, he heard a very intentional burst of gunfire behind him.


    Despite his resolve, he grimaced at what he had just done. What he was about to do.


    ¡°Twelve o¡¯clock,¡± the man behind him said.


    His words were succeeded by the odd sound of him raising his weapon. It was less the sound of his weapon being raised and more of the sound his entire body made¡ªclothes, vests, and everything else¡ªas he raised his weapon.


    Melmarc stepped quickly, his feet splashing water beneath him.


    His entire face twitched at the discomfort of a gun going off right beside him. Amidst the other chaotic sounds of gunshots, there was an odd pop that he expected would come from a gunshot making impact with a moldy cement wall.


    From his periphery, Melmarc saw something spin in the air before landing directly in front of him.


    Melmarc followed the red indicator without looking at his target. He placed his aim simply, eyes focused on the indicator and not what it was indicating, and drove his fist into the spot just beneath the indicator.


    The sounding of something crushing filled his ear as his interface flashed in front of him.


    You have slain [Damned]


    You have gained 53 EP


    Total EP 120


    Even as he tried to turn his attention in search of his next target, Melmarc felt a hand on his shoulder.


    It was firm yet somehow gentle.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to clear the place!¡± the man shouted. ¡°We¡¯re about to wipe them out in one blow. We can¡¯t stay here when that happens.¡±


    The man released him just so he could take another shot.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t object.


    He came up to his feet, turned, and threw the rings of mana around his wrist. Each one was thrown from a side arm position so that they cut through the air like a discus.


    Two notifications popped up in front of him and he couldn¡¯t help containing how impressed he was when he watched one of the rings cut two of the creatures¡¯ heads off on its path before embedding itself in the torso of the third.


    Then the feeling was overshadowed by the sight of it all and he tasted bile once more. He closed his feelings to it, pretended he was fine.


    You¡¯ll be out of here soon.


    With the words keeping him in check and the Delver slowly guiding him back by pulling on his shirt, Melmarc pulled up another ring of mana.


    You have used [Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 0/2]


    As they moved back, the [Damned] gathering to them in their dying numbers, Melmarc tossed the ring of mana forward in what looked like a half hearted throw.


    It landed an acceptable distance away from him and the man.


    ¡°Up the tree,¡± the man said from behind him.


    Melmarc turned and simply started climbing, knowing the tree was there as [Secrecy] activated,


    The [Damned] within its area of effect simply stopped moving like malfunctioning robots, staring, then looking around.


    Melmarc noticed then that all the green indicators except for one were now above ground level.


    The only person that was not on a tree was a man with short, permed hair. He recognized him as the man he¡¯d passed when he charged into the fight.


    Whoever he was, he was charging straight to the heart of the [Damned]. With all the gunfire done with, he had no risk of being shot.


    As he ran, electricity crackled along the length of his forearms, strong and blue with a hint of green. It took Melmarc only a moment to realize that the man had another thing to worry about as his steps carried him closer to the stunned creatures.


    ¡°DON¡¯T GET TOO CLOSE!¡± he bellowed, hoping the man heard him.


    He was pleased when the man came to an abrupt stop.


    ¡°CLEAR!¡± the man bellowed, then slammed both hands into the water.


    An entire radius around the man too far for Melmarc to calculate immediately lit up in blue and green. The swamp grew electrified. A lot of the monsters twitched and jerked the way most electrocuted things in movies tended to.


    The entire ordeal lasted for probably eight seconds with the man standing in the water, hands buried in the water.


    Before long it all died down and the man pulled his hands from the water. He looked spent, tired.


    ¡°All good?¡± the man with Melmarc asked.


    Melmarc nodded, arms and legs wrapped around the trunk of the tree in an awkward position before realizing he was probably not the one being asked.


    The man who had clearly used [Fist of Thunder] raised his arm and held a thumbs up.


    ¡°Clear,¡± he announced. Then he turned his head. ¡°Now we¡¯ve got to figure out how to save Claire.¡±


    Melmarc looked up at the man sharing a tree with him.


    ¡°I might be able to help,¡± he said as the critters that had gotten on him fell off.


    ¡­


    Clinton was confused, and it had nothing to do with the fact that their healer was dying.


    ¡°I might be able to help.¡±


    The words rang through his earpiece and he turned in the direction of their new companion. There was no mistaking the voice, it was young. Young enough.


    The Blight said their priority was saving a young boy that had been caught in the portal. This was a boy¡¯s voice, but the body was a different conversation entirely.


    In a minute, he was looking up at someone who was taller than him and looking down at him with hollow hazel eyes that looked more green than hazel right now. Those eyes seemed to be looking for his soul.


    Definitely can¡¯t be who we¡¯re looking for¡­ right?

 SIXTY: Dissonant

    Something was strange about this situation.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t even sure the Delvers in front of him knew he was here. There was always the possibility that they did, but that was nothing more than a possibility. And the man in front of him was definitely looking at him as if he did not expect to see him here.


    ¡°My name is Clinton,¡± the man said after a while. ¡°Leader of this party.¡±


    Melmarc scratched the back of his head nervously. ¡°Melmarc.¡±


    Clinton looked him up and down once more. ¡°Lockwood?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    It had been long since Melmarc had gotten the look the man was giving him. In truth, whenever he and Ark went out together, Ark was usually the one that got the look. The first time it had happened, Ninra had been with them, and she¡¯d explained that while their faces looked their age, their heights did not.


    I wonder how they¡¯ll act around Eroms, Melmarc thought.


    After all, Eroms was a full head taller than him.


    ¡°You said you can help our teammate,¡± Clinton said after a moment. ¡°Did I hear you properly?¡±


    Melmarc nodded, turning his attention to the woman on the ground bleeding from an injury in her neck. The injury had once had two bright red indicators hovering over it. Both indicators were gone now, most likely the result of whatever [Damned] had spawned them dying in the chaos.


    ¡°I can,¡± he answered.


    One of the men sighed in relief. ¡°I say we¡¯re lucky to run into a healer.¡±


    Clinton raised his hand and placed it gently on the man¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°This here is Jed,¡± he said in introduction. ¡°Jed is not a healer.¡±


    Jed shrugged his hand off his shoulder with a light hearted chuckle. ¡°You¡¯re just jealous that I have a self healing skill.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, not sure how to respond to his current situation.


    ¡°That,¡± Clinton gestured over Melmarc¡¯s shoulder with his head, ¡°is Nelson. His size says exactly what he is.¡±


    Melmarc looked back and found the man who had joined him with a gun earlier. The man was the only member of the team that was as tall as him.


    Eroms and his father remained taller.


    ¡°So he¡¯s a tanker?¡± Melmarc guessed.


    It was a famous stereotype that larger Gifted ended up being tankers and it was a stereotype for a reason; a lot of them tended to be larger men than most.


    Nelson was built like a battering ram.


    ¡°He¡¯s a tanker,¡± Clinton confirmed then turned his head in the direction of one of the trees. It was where the lady was lying against a tree, being kept company by the final member of the team.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get our healer on her feet,¡± Clinton said.


    He made his way to her, feet wading through the water and the others followed him. Melmarc kept up easily.


    As he walked, his hand went to his chest. He was pleased to find it itched him no more. [Vitality of the Drunk] had healed him just right, which meant he didn¡¯t need the Delvers in order to be able to heal Naymond.


    ¡°How¡¯s she doing, Jude?¡± Clinton asked the member of the team that was with her.


    ¡°I keep losing the pulse,¡± he said, worried. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s there, then sometimes its gone. I don¡¯t know if she has a skill that¡¯s keeping her alive or not.¡±


    For his part, Melmarc couldn¡¯t even begin to guess what was wrong with her. He didn¡¯t know what happened when the critters get into injuries. Even Naymond with all his injuries didn¡¯t have one of them in him.


    Clinton looked up at him. ¡°You ready to do your thing, Mr. Melmarc?¡±


    Mr. Melmarc was an odd name to be called, with the title and everything, but Melmarc understood that the man was trying to be polite and respectful so he made no complaint neither did he ask for the title to be dropped.


    Nodding, Melmarc squatted next to the woman. She had red hair that was black at the roots and a few freckles over her cheeks that seemed terribly pale right now.


    ¡°What are you?¡± Jude asked. ¡°A healer?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like his tone, not that he was going to do anything about it. So he ignored the man called Jude and paid attention to the woman in front of him.


    A problem stared at him that he hoped was not a problem. From what he knew about [Vitality of the Drunk], the recipient had to be capable of swallowing.


    Here goes nothing.


    He raised his hand and placed it to her mouth. Thinking better of his action, he stopped before his palm touched her lips.


    Maybe I should clean them first.


    The last few minutes had been spent killing with them and the last thing he wanted was to give her some kind of bacteria indigenous to the portal.


    His pants were the farthest thing from clean so they were a bust. The water around him wasn¡¯t even worth considering. And he knew what his shirt had been through.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said to no one in particular, ¡°but does anyone have something I can clean my hands with?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± Nelson reached into one of his vest pockets and brought out an entire pack of baby wipes.


    Everyone stopped to look at him.


    ¡°You just carry baby wipes around?¡± Jed asked, confused.


    Nelson shrugged. ¡°You don¡¯t know when you might need them.¡±


    ¡°You got a pack of pampers in there, too, big guy?¡± Jed joked.


    Nelson paused, his expression unchanged like he didn¡¯t get the joke. Then he let his gun hang free by the strap and reached into another vest pocket with his now free hand.


    Jed¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me.¡±


    Nelson brought his hand out of his pocket and gave Jed the middle finger.


    ¡°You had me in the first half,¡± Jed chuckled. ¡°Not gonna lie.¡±


    Melmarc looked between both men, wondering if this was normal. Their teammate was dying right in front of them and they were making jokes.


    It took him a moment to realize that it wasn¡¯t confusion or anger that birthed the thought but genuine objective curiosity.


    Is this what being a Delver is like?


    It was odd not to be worried about the fact that they were like this.


    ¡°Give the boy the wipes, Nelson,¡± Clinton instructed. ¡°Let¡¯s get Claire on her feet and get the hell out of here. The last thing I want is those¡­ things coming back.¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Nelson apologized, slightly chastised, and handed the pack of wipes to Melmarc.


    Melmarc took it with a grateful nod. Opening it was a simple task and, in a moment, he had one clean hand and one very dirty wipe.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, handing the pack back to Nelson.


    The large man took it.


    ¡°Why do you carry wipes around, anyway?¡± Melmarc heard Jed mutter.


    Nelson¡¯s response was a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve got three kids. The oldest is two.¡±


    Melmarc pulled his attention from the both of them and anything else they were about to keep talking about and lifted Claire¡¯s head with a hand behind it. Then he pulled her jaw down so that her mouth hung open.


    Gladness filled him when it remained open.


    I hope this works.


    Holding his hand up, he activated the skill.


    [You have activated Vitality of the Drunk]


    Melmarc¡¯s palm felt sweaty and he placed it against the woman¡¯s mouth. A single green drop of sweat, bright and shimmering, fell from his palm and into her mouth. He¡¯d aimed it right so that it fell straight down and into her throat instead of falling on her tongue.


    Then they waited.


    ¡°Is it working?¡± Clinton asked after a while.


    Melmarc raised his head to answer and paused. The rest of the team stood around them as if establishing a perimeter. It would be impossible for anyone to sneak up on them from any angle right now.


    It was impressive.


    To Clinton, he said, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    He looked back down at Claire. She was supposed to drink the substance, but he didn¡¯t know if it would work if she was unconscious. Healers worked in different ways, some needed to make physical contact, some didn¡¯t.


    Each one had its limitations.


    This might be hers.


    Behind him, Clinton was frowning over his back but his eyes were on Claire.


    ¡°I know she¡¯s supposed to drink it,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if it will work if she¡¯s unconscious.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know how to use your own skill, kid?¡± Jude asked, his tone unkind.


    Nelson moved fast for a man his size, cuffed him over the back of the head. ¡°He¡¯s just a kid. How the hell do you expect him to know everything about his skill already?¡±


    Jude said nothing. He rubbed his head, the strike clearly painful.


    ¡°You just finished your mentorship program, right?¡± Clinton asked.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure why the man was bringing it up. Besides, he was still in his mentorship program, he hadn¡¯t finished it¡­


    It¡¯s been about twelve days here, he realized. If time flows the same way, then it¡¯s been about twelve days outside, too.


    His mentorship program had finished.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Yeah, I just did.¡±


    Then his attention on Claire¡¯s face sharpened, eyes squinted. He could see color returning to her face. Her pale cheeks were no longer as pale.


    ¡°Have you figured out which school you want to go to?¡± Clinton asked. ¡°There¡¯s one in Utah. Nice facilities, amazing teachers. That¡¯s the one I went to.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure why the man was talking about what Gifted school he was going to go to in their current situation.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t picked, yet,¡± he answered, cataloguing the question to the back of his mind.


    He figured it was probably small talk to pass the time.


    Blood spurted out of the lady¡¯s neck and Melmarc watched two critters get expelled from the injury. They looked like tiny cockroaches.


    ¡°That¡¯s disgusting,¡± Jed muttered.


    ¡°Seconded,¡± Jude said.


    Clinton opened his mouth, clearly about to say something when Claire gasped. It was loud and she sucked in a lot of air in one deep breath.


    ¡°Alright, boys,¡± Clinton said, pulling attention to him. ¡°That¡¯s our cue. Time for us to move.¡±


    Everyone scrambled into action. Melmarc found it odd because there was really nothing to do but turn and start walking. It wasn¡¯t like they had things to clear out or pick up.


    On his part, he slipped an arm under Claire¡¯s knees and picked her up. She was light in his arms.


    When he stood, he hefted her, adjusted her position in his arms. Now that he thought of it, he¡¯d never carried a girl before.


    Never had a girlfriend, either.


    Melmarc turned to the others and found Clinton paused halfway through the action of taking Claire from him.


    Melmarc looked down at the lady and the color returning to her face, then back at Clinton.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got her,¡± he told him.


    ¡°You sure?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re the Delvers. You¡¯ll need all the freedom you can get in case something happens.¡±


    Jude groaned. ¡°Don¡¯t jinx it, kid.¡±


    ¡°The kid,¡± Nelson said with strong emphasis, ¡°has a name. And last time I checked, he just ran into the heart of that madness and killed a few monsters himself. Might as well be an honorary Delver in my book.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Then Nelson gave Melmarc a smile.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how much of it the man had meant. He might have just been doing what nice adults liked to do where they lay it heavy on the compliments so that the kids around them felt more comfortable and like they belonged.


    It didn¡¯t make Melmarc feel like he belonged. It felt more like a group of doctors calling a child a doctor because they were wearing a toy stethoscope.


    Jude looked from Nelson to Clinton, then at Jed. His confusion was clear on his face.


    ¡°What did I do?¡± he said.


    Clinton shrugged and Jed remained quiet.


    Nelson, however, had more to say. ¡°People do not take kindly to being called ¡®kid.¡¯¡±


    Personally, Melmarc didn¡¯t mind being called a kid, but he wasn¡¯t going to get in the middle of this. So he turned and started walking.


    ¡°The kid,¡± Jude said, staring up at Nelson in challenge, ¡°is going. We should follow him.¡±


    I hope this isn''t going to be a long walk.


    ¡­


    The walk out of the sea trees was slow and simple. Melmarc continued to feel nothing of Claire¡¯s weight until he found himself wondering if he had really grown so strong or if the woman had no weight.


    The status increase effects of [Bless Your Kindness] had since timed out, yet she remained light in his arms.


    Slowly the swampy setting of the environment turned into simple grassland and trees. It was dry and it was simple with the comfort of the shades from the trees. The shade, however, was unnecessary as evening had already begun its descent into nightfall.


    Through the entire walk Melmarc noted the casual alertness of the Delvers. Despite how easily they joked and walked and exchanged conversation, there was no doubt that there was nothing that could ambush them.


    From the little Melmarc picked from their conversations he realized that they were not an official team, simply an amalgamation of Delvers.


    It was not stated explicitly. It was merely a deduction from the conversations.


    Nelson, it turned out, was a C-rank tank that did nothing to state his actual class. According to him, he¡¯d been a Delver for eight years and was yet to give up hope of advancing in rank. It said a lot to his willpower because while there was a theory about what it took to advance in rank, no one knew how accurate it was.


    The common theory was that a Gifted had to increase the mastery of the skills they received upon getting their class to a hundred percent. And while it had not been explicitly confirmed by any Gifted, there remained Delvers who had succeeded in going from one rank to the next.


    The very existence of such Delvers was proof that people could rank up.


    Unfortunately, the number of registered Delvers to have ranked up in the past thirty years were less than twenty.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know the exact number, but he knew the number they were less than. And all of them had one thing in common, when asked how they didn¡¯t, they said that they didn¡¯t know.


    The latest three had ranked up within the last year. All three of them were from Romania and had given the same explanation for how it had happened. They, too, had no idea what criteria they¡¯d met.


    Unlike the others who¡¯d ranked up over the years, the media had nothing but skepticisms and negative speculations towards them.


    Delano¡¯s take on the subject was as conspiratorial as every secret the boy liked to uncover.


    ¡°They are unknown Delvers,¡± Delano had said, pushing the conversation he had initiated himself further while Eroms had complained about the difficulty of their assignments a few years ago. ¡°You would expect active and powerful Delvers to rank up, not some no names.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ they¡¯ve got no good reason other than it doesn¡¯t make sense to them,¡± Melmarc had said.


    ¡°There has been no recorded rank up in Romania in the past hundred years and suddenly three nobodies rank up?¡± Delano had scoffed. ¡°Of course the media¡¯s going to go mad with questions. Then you give no answer?¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Melmarc had said with a sigh. ¡°Western propaganda.¡±


    Delano had smiled like a proud father. ¡°Exactly. We see the beginning of their rise to power and want to turn public opinion against them, make it questionable and strange. Have the world distrust them and the more power they gain the more villainous they seem.¡±


    Regardless, amongst those that had ranked up, only one was a tanker. So Nelson was trying to be the second, and he knew it.


    Jed had no such grand dreams. He was a C-rank who was more than happy with his rank and his class. As a [Ranger] he was sought after all-rounder.


    Jed spoke of no wife in response to the fact that Nelson had three children and how he would like to start a family of his own one day. However, he wasn¡¯t willing to put his wife and kids through the mental stress of having to wonder if the day he enters a new portal would be his last.


    His decision was to retire from Delving before marriage at the¡ªin his own words¡ªripe age of thirty-five.


    So for the rest of his time left Delving, which he was unwilling to disclose, Jed planned on amassing as much money as he could so that retirement would be retirement.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think it was an impossible task. C-rank Delvers were the lowest ranks allowed to be Delvers. They were, as such, also the lowest paid Delvers. Still, they made significantly more money than D-ranks, lower, and those that were not Gifted.


    As long as he wasn¡¯t going to be doing anything too extravagant, his dream retirement wasn¡¯t a dream.


    He just had to live long enough for it.


    Jude was a mercenary.


    The announcement had stunned everyone into silence for a while as they stepped out of the collage of trees and into the meadow, basking under the starlit night sky with no moon.


    Their steps faltered and Melamrc was sure the only thing that kept them going was the fact that they remained in a portal that could come for their lives at any point in time.


    When they resumed walking, Jude had been nice enough to explain that what he meant by him being a mercenary was that he was an unaffiliated Delver.


    He was registered to no company and owned no company of his own. That cleared up a bit of the misunderstanding.


    From what Melmarc knew, the general populace referred to those Delvers as solos. Whether the name came from the gaming term for people who liked to play characters without team members or if the gaming term was gotten from the Delvers concept was something Melmarc didn¡¯t know.


    It turned out that in the Delving world, the solos were called Contractors.


    ¡°Personally, I like to think of myself as a mercenary,¡± Jude corrected when Nelson called him a contractor.


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc asked, adding his voice to their conversation for the first time.


    ¡°Because it sounds more badass,¡± Jude answered with an impish smile. ¡°You tell someone that you¡¯re bringing a contractor and they¡¯ll go ¡®ok¡¯. Tell them you¡¯re bringing a mercenary and see them shake in their boots.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him, Mr. Lockwood,¡± Clinton said, head on a constant swivel. ¡°Mercenaries are low life sellouts who will do anything for money. They have no honor and no will of their own except for money. Mr. Jude is what is called a Contractor. All he¡¯s doing is trying to scare you.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t scared.


    He knew what mercenaries were. And while Clinton had done well to paint a terrible picture of them, he didn¡¯t think they were so cut and dry in his definition.


    Growing up, Melmarc had read a lot of stories, novels and comic books. What he¡¯d learnt from them was that no group was an absolute. Mercenaries did what they did for money and most of them did anything for money and had their reasons.


    But to assume that all of them were shitty was to assume that all politicians were good.


    Wrong focus.


    The thought welled in his head, a reminder of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing.


    He looked down at Claire once more. The color had returned to her face. Her chest rose and fell in steady breaths.


    She was fine.


    Beside him Clinton gave Jude a stern look.


    ¡°The last thing we want is a Gifted child having delusions of grandeur about being a mercenary,¡± he whispered harshly. ¡°Contractors are good but the last thing we want is to be raising Gifted mercenaries. You know what they are capable of. We are few and the last thing we want is sending the few of us to the wrong side of the world.¡±


    Melmarc was sure that Clinton was talking about Gifted when he said ¡®us.¡¯


    The conversations lulled back into something basic as they continued forward. Melmarc led them without actually leading. They had somehow placed him at the center of their little group yet moved in the direction he went.


    He might not have been leading them intentionally, but they were definitely following him.


    ¡°What do we know so far?¡± Clinton asked someone that wasn¡¯t Melmarc. ¡°You have a scouting skill, right, Jed?¡±


    ¡°Map¡¯s a little off,¡± Jed answered simply. ¡°All I¡¯ve got is just a large space of land. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°I guess we¡¯re off to a bad start.¡± Clinton ran a hand down his face.


    His head went on a swivel once more. He took in their surrounding. The large plateau of grass land. The trees left in their wake. More grass land.


    Nelson walked up to Clinton¡¯s side and pointed to their left. ¡°I¡¯m sure there¡¯s something in the distance if we go that way.¡±


    Clinton turned his head. In the darkness there was very little to see. But Melmarc knew what was in that general direction.


    Even in the darkness, its shadow pierced the skies. That was the main castle. His perceived final destination.


    ¡°Do you know what¡¯s over there, Mr. Lockwood?¡± Clinton asked.


    ¡°Marc,¡± Melmarc found himself saying before he could stop himself. ¡°You can call me Marc.¡±


    ¡°Alright, Marc.¡± Clinton said the name as if he was testing how it felt in his mouth. ¡°Any idea what that is?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s a castle. Most likely in ruins like the other buildings.¡±


    ¡°Buildings?¡± Jude asked.


    Claire moved in Melmarc¡¯s arms, adjusted herself as if looking for a more comfortable position.


    Melmarc moved his arms in accordance.


    Shouldn¡¯t she be awake by now?


    ¡°This place is called the ruins of Caldath,¡± Melmarc said to Jude without turning his attention away from their path. ¡°So far there are a lot of crumbling buildings and I¡¯ve kept to them since I¡¯ve been here.¡±


    ¡°So the buildings are safe,¡± Jude mused.


    ¡°Arguably,¡± Jed said. ¡°Care to tell us what happened to your shirt, ki¡ªMarc?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged as if it wasn¡¯t a big deal, even though he knew that it was, before answering.


    ¡°Monsters,¡± he said, voice casual. ¡°Couldn¡¯t get away in time.¡±


    ¡°How long ago was this?¡± Clinton asked.


    Again, Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t remember.¡±


    It was the truth. It could as easily have been eight days ago as it could have been six days ago. Melmarc was beginning to think he had spent far too long inside the portal.


    And he hadn¡¯t even started attempting to close it. Maybe with the Delvers around he would be able to.


    As long as I can fight Caldath with help, I¡¯ll be more than happy.


    Caldath was still a problem standing on the other side of the orb they were supposed to take to clear the portal.


    ¡°So, I know nobody¡¯s asked but where are we headed?¡± Jude asked.


    ¡°To meet a friend,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°I heard the gunshots so I had to leave him to rush over to you guys.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth and his words died on his lips. It just felt odd telling a bunch of Delvers that he¡¯d come to save them.


    In all fairness, the woman currently in his arms was in support of the fact that they had needed his help.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he answered finally. ¡°There was just something about a new set of people. I¡¯ve been here a little¡­ too long.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Clinton scratched the back of his neck nervously. ¡°There¡¯s just been a lot of back and forth about the portal on our side. It caused a bit of a controversy before we finally got the rights to enter.¡±


    Dissonant.


    The thought came up abruptly like it always did and Melmarc fought back a sigh.


    I guess that¡¯s to be expected.


    Clinton was lying. Why, was beyond Melmarc. Around him, Melmarc could sense that the others were feeling awkward about the lie.


    Was it that Delvers didn¡¯t know that children knew how portal entries worked? Nobody fought over a C-rank portal. In fact, C-rank portals were often referred to as general training grounds.


    Companies used it to train their trainees so the battle for it was never hectic or important. Sometimes C-rank portals opened and were closed without the public really learning about it.


    Melmarc was sure the only reason people knew about this one was because of where it opened.


    I guess I wouldn¡¯t want to tell a kid that no one wanted to get the portal and save them in a hurry.


    ¡°How much farther,¡± Jude asked, ripping the awkwardness from the air with a rude tone.


    At this point Melmarc was beginning to think the Contractor simply had a rude tone by default.


    It had taken him around fifteen minutes to get to them from where he¡¯d left Naymond at a full sprint so¡­


    Melmarc had no idea.


    ¡°It took me a while to get to you guys,¡± he answered. ¡°And I was running all the way¡­ so I can¡¯t really say.¡±


    ¡°How long?¡± Clinton asked.


    ¡°Maybe fifteen minutes.¡±


    ¡°You ran for fifteen minutes?¡± Nelson asked, surprised.


    ¡°And you expect us to believe that?¡± Jude snorted. ¡°I get that you¡¯re a healer but your class isn¡¯t designed for such feats.¡±


    Nelson shot Jude a sharp glance. ¡°Are you ever not rude?¡±


    ¡°Sure. When people aren¡¯t lying to me. You expect me to believe that a C, maybe D-rank, healer ran at a full sprint for fifteen minutes?¡±


    ¡°B,¡± Melmarc corrected.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°B-rank,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°I am a B-rank.¡±


    As for his class, he wasn¡¯t ready to be correcting them. His time spent with Naymond during his mentorship program had dulled him to the discrimination towards Fakers, but he¡¯d spent enough time away from Naymond to remember it.


    Better for them to think of me as a healer until they don¡¯t have to.


    There was the small issue of plans, though. If for some reason they decided to allow him clear the portal with them, their lack of information on him or, better yet, their inaccurate information on him, could be a problem.


    They might allot him the wrong task if they thought that he was a healer.


    Arguably speaking, I am a healer, Melmarc thought. Arguably speaking, I am all of them.


    Jude had grown uncharacteristically quiet.


    ¡°Pride always comes before a fall, mercenary,¡± Jed laughed, doing nothing to conceal his mocking tone.


    For the first time, Melmarc turned his face from the path in front of them to find an odd look on Jude¡¯s face. The man looked as if he was sulking.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Marc,¡± Clinton said with a warm smile. ¡°He¡¯ll get over it. But if you don¡¯t mind my asking, how did you end up in a portal.¡±


    ¡°I tripped and fell.¡±


    There was a loud guffaw behind them and everyone stopped and turned.


    Jed met their gazes defiantly. ¡°What? It was funny.¡±


    Clinton shook his head and sighed. ¡°Grow up, Jed.¡±


    Then he turned to Melmarc.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Melmarc apologized before the man could say anything. ¡°That was rude of me.¡±


    At the time, he¡¯d thought it was a stupid question since the Delvers were supposed to know how the person they were here to save had gotten here. But that had been presumptuous of him. For all he knew, the police department could¡¯ve lied to them.


    Delano¡¯s continuous skepticism and negative views on the government had taught him a few things. One of them was that making a mistake big enough to put a child in significant danger was not something any government body would want getting out.


    So lying to a third party would not be beyond them.


    That left the question of if he wanted to take one for the team. Not the police department, obviously. He was talking about Alfa.


    If it got out that she had sanctioned a task that had gotten an innocent boy into a portal, she could be in significant trouble.


    Maybe even lose her job.


    Did he want to go that far?


    She was famous for her kindness to the rest of the world. And while Melmarc¡¯s current situation was horrible, she had actually been an alright person the few times he spent around her.


    But was it right for her to be in charge of mentees if she was going to be this¡ª


    Melmarc shook his head, discarding the thoughts as they gathered. One mistake didn¡¯t mean someone had to lose their livelihood.


    Besides, if he was being honest, Naymond had been the one to pressure everyone into this situation. It was more of his fault that they were in this position.


    ¡°Marc.¡±


    Melmarc sighed.


    ¡°Things just happened,¡± he said finally. ¡°I was in the house for a reason when the portal opened but I was not alone.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Clinton muttered. ¡°We saw the other kid.¡±


    Melmarc paused. What other kid?


    It took him a moment but he remembered the other kid.


    Jake.


    The entire ordeal that had led to this point felt like a lifetime ago. Melmarc knew what happened to people that were not Gifted when they got too close to a portal. Sometimes it was good. Sometimes it was bad.


    ¡°What happened to him?¡± he asked.


    Nelson shook his head sorrowfully. ¡°He didn¡¯t make it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Clinton added.


    Melmarc had nothing to say and silence met his companions.


    ¡°Must be tough what happened,¡± Jude said, his voice carrying its first ever traces of kindness. ¡°You have my condolences.¡±


    Melmarc nodded with a non-committal grunt.


    There was no purpose for their condolences but he wasn¡¯t going to tell them that. At least he now knew that Jake hadn¡¯t made it.


    How did he die? He wondered.


    Was it too much to ask them that?


    ¡°You seem pretty calm, Marc,¡± Clinton said, walking up so that he stood side by side with Melmarc.


    ¡°We weren¡¯t all that close,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°It¡¯s sad that he¡¯s dead, though.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­ yea,¡± Clinton said, unsure. ¡°It is. But I was talking about us walking out in the open.¡±


    ¡°Yea,¡± Jude agreed. ¡°Haven¡¯t even turned your head once, while we¡¯ve been playing spin the top with our heads.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what that meant, but he was sure it was a type of reference to the fact that they were always turning their heads.


    ¡°I¡¯m not really that bothered,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Please tell me you don¡¯t have complete faith in us, kid,¡± Jude said.


    ¡°Not something you should be telling someone we¡¯re here to rescue,¡± Nelson scowled. ¡°You should be assuring him that he can have faith in us.¡±


    For people who didn¡¯t know each other very well, Nelson and Jude sure did bicker a lot.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Melmarc said to Nelson, ¡°but I¡¯ve been in the portal for a while and the monsters in this area aren¡¯t active at night. At least I¡¯ve never run into any of them at night.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    There was silence after that and it lasted for the rest of their walk.


    From their pace and how they comported themselves, Melmarc¡¯s words seemed to have shaved off some level of their alertness. Not all of it, though.


    The walk back lasted a little over an hour. As they arrived at the building he¡¯d left Naymond in, Melmarc wondered just how fast he¡¯d really been running when he¡¯d been going after them.


    Now he just had to add that to the list of things he needed to understand properly once he was out of here.


    There was also the school thing, but who could think of school when they were stuck inside a portal.


    ¡°And here we are,¡± Melmarc announced, entering the building.


    He entered sideways so that he didn¡¯t accidentally hit Claire¡¯s head on anything. Keeping his steps slow, he walked inside. The others slowed their steps as well behind him.


    ¡°Why¡¯s he acting like his camp is more dangerous than outside?¡± Jude whispered to nobody in particular. ¡°Does he have booby traps set up or something.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± Melmarc called out.


    He¡¯d spotted a hole in a wall that wasn¡¯t there when he¡¯d been here. It was possible it was just the result of the still crumbling building but he couldn¡¯t be so sure.


    He ventured deeper into the building, stepping over fallen bricks and debris.


    ¡°Anyone hear that?¡± Nelson asked.


    ¡°Hear what?¡± Clinton returned.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. It sounds like someone choking on their own saliva.¡±


    Melmarc picked up the pace. The person was more likely choking on his own blood. In a matter of seconds, he was at the room he¡¯d left Naymond in.


    Right at the doorway, lying face down, was a [Damned]. Melmarc spared it only enough attention to be sure it was dead before looking inside the room. At one end of the room, next to a large window was Naymond.


    His eyes were droopy, barely open. Lying almost on top of him was another [Damned] face down on the ground. At the end of its arm was a shovel with one of its sharp sides at least an inch deep into the side of his neck.


    Melmarc rushed over to his side almost dropping Claire carelessly to the ground. The Delvers rushed over to Naymond as well.


    Shit, shit, shit, Melmarc panicked for the first time since finding Naymond. Don¡¯t die on me, Mr. Hitchcock.


    He wasn¡¯t ready to experience that. He wasn¡¯t¡ª


    Dissonant.

 SIXTY-ONE: Nori

    If there was one thing Deoti hated in life, it was stealing. And that was why it continued to irk her that she¡¯d had to steal this car.


    You¡¯re a fucking S-rank Delver, she thought with scorn as she turned the steering wheel and headed down a new road. You shouldn¡¯t be having to steal anything.


    Unfortunately, she had to.


    Her position and rank made her rich. Not as rich as any of the Oaths, but definitely rich enough that she could buy a car on the fly. And she had really wanted to buy a car on the fly.


    But she couldn¡¯t.


    Right now, the last thing they needed was any kind of paper trail.


    Deoti took another turn, frowning as she did. If Fendor saw the frown currently on her lips he would probably crack some joke about turning frowns upside down. He was always one for treating her like a kid.


    Deoti could never figure out why, considering that she was the only one he treated that way. In the end, it was going to remain one of those mysteries she could never figure out.


    Madness thought he liked her in some kind of way, though. But he never confirmed if it was completely romantic. All he¡¯d said was that Fendor might like her and had never said anything else on the matter.


    He could¡¯ve at least told me what kind of like, specifically.


    That was the thing with Madness. He didn¡¯t insinuate. Every word that came out of his mouth tended to mean, most times than not, exactly what it meant. If he said the devil was alive, then there was a nigh perfect chance that there was a devil and it was alive.


    People in the world did not know how lucky they were that Madness had never made such a statement. As a catholic, despite his devotion, his head was always on straight.


    Just for kicks and giggles, the team had once sat Madness down and asked him questions. There were speculations that his responses had something to do with him as an Oath because the responses they¡¯d gotten from him weren¡¯t what they expected from someone with as strong a devotion to their religion as him.


    Was God real? He believed so. The funny part was that he actually said the words. God didn¡¯t exist as far as his words were concerned, but he believed the Christian supernatural being existed. It was the same for Lucifer.


    When it came to angels and demons, the answers were obvious. Did angels exist? Yes. Did demons exist? Yes.


    There were portals only Oaths were allowed into, portals that were too dangerous for even S-ranks.


    The entire team always wondered if Madness¡¯ certainty of the existence of demons and angels had something to do with one of those portals.


    Such things terrified Deoti sometimes, even though she was an S-ranker. If there was a Portal she was not allowed to enter because it was too difficult.


    Ever since she¡¯d found out about the angels and demons, Deoti had always had the sinking feeling that there were portals out there that led to hell and or heaven.


    And if that was the case, what was the possibility that God wasn¡¯t just faith based? Deoti was a Christian and the possibility of that revelation was something that had messed with her faith a lot.


    But she never showed it. She continued going to church whenever she could and did her best to remain a devout Christian.


    She would be lying if she said it wasn¡¯t taking a toll on her faith.


    God being more than just knowledge by faith. Deoti didn¡¯t know what it said about her that she couldn¡¯t process the idea with complete and total happiness.


    Wasn¡¯t it supposed to be every Christian¡¯s dream to confirm the existence of God beyond faith?


    Deoti let out another sigh as she pulled the car into an alleyway and got out.


    It was kind of difficult to be happy about the possible existence of God being discovered behind a portal.


    Especially when you consider that everything beyond a portal has been an enemy so far.


    Deoti shook her head, looked around, then made a casual stroll out of the alley way after locking the car. It had been a few hours since she had been teleported off a government ship and into the middle of nowhere. The day was dark.


    With her guilty conscience jiggling around in her pocket alongside the car key, she strolled into another building. It was abandoned.


    She went up its stairs. Each step she took would¡¯ve creaked and announced her arrival if not for the outfit she was wearing. When you were Delver of any significant repute, weaver¡¯s silk was a compulsory part of your outfit. The sound of the stairs traveled up from her boots and spread all the way around her outfit, absorbing the sound.


    At the top of the first flight of stairs, she made a turn to the left.


    The building was quiet, almost eerie in the silence now that it was night. Even as an S-rank and a Delver who had been through far too many things in far too many portals for almost enough years, Deoti still possessed an inherent fear of being outside, alone, and in the dark.


    The government therapist that they spoke to after every delve, which the government pointed out was mandatory, had told her it was a completely normal thing to have faced real monsters in a portal but still harbored an inherent fear of the dark.


    According to Alna, the therapist, the fear of the dark was an inherent trait in the average human, the fear of not knowing, not being able to see what stood just beyond the next bend or even what was in front of you.


    When Deoti had pointed out that she¡¯d been in the dark with monsters before in portals so why was she supposed to be scared of the normal dark on earth, Alna¡¯s response had been simple.


    ¡°In the portals, you at least know that the monsters are there,¡± she¡¯d said. ¡°In this world, you do not.¡±


    That had stayed with Deoti longer than she would¡¯ve liked. And Alna had been generous enough to also add that before Deoti was an S-rank Delver, she had once been a little girl who had been scared of monsters in the closet.


    Deoti shook her head as she arrived at the door she sought. She hated therapy so much. To her, therapists weren¡¯t there to make you better, they were there to shape you into the kind of person whoever was in charge wanted you to be.


    That¡¯s why I always lie to them.


    She turned the door knob and pushed the door open without knocking. As her feet pulled her into the room, four pair of eyes settled on her calmly.


    At the center of the room was a single lit candle. It was all the light that they had.


    ¡°Two hours, D?¡± Fendor said in faux disappointment. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t take anyone that long to get a car.¡±


    At least she hoped it was faux.


    ¡°To steal a car,¡± she corrected him, tossing the key to the side.


    Saxi snatched the key out of the air. With his clothes laced with weaver¡¯s silk, the action was entirely without sound. The only reason she knew he¡¯d gotten the key was because she knew he would since he was seated in the direction she¡¯d thrown it.


    ¡°So it took you two hours to talk your conscience out of stopping you?¡± Fendor teased. ¡°Must have been tough.¡±


    Deoti let out a tired sigh. ¡°Axe, can I have my gun so I can shoot him.¡±


    ¡°Not allowed,¡± David said getting up from his chair and finally focusing his eyes on her.


    The room was simple with a single brown carpet at the center and four single sofas surrounding it.


    David walked up to her, stopped in front of her and held his hand out.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°Cell phone,¡± he said.


    He¡¯d been quiet since they¡¯d left the ship. Normally, he was a quiet man, but he had been too quiet this time.


    Deoti reached into her pocket and brought out an old phone. This one she hadn¡¯t stolen. She¡¯d taken it off some teenager who she believed wasn¡¯t supposed to be out so late after transferring funds capable of purchasing the phone twice from her account to his as payment.


    David took it calmly, a sharp contrast to his Oath of Madness. Most of the people that met him wouldn¡¯t believe that madness was his purview as an Oath until they saw him fight at full strength. Deoti had seen him fight at full strength once.


    Everyone in this room had seen him fight at full strength once.


    David turned on the display of the phone, moved to its dial pad, and dialed in a number. It rang three times on loud speaker, testing everyone¡¯s patience before someone picked.


    ¡°Madness,¡± David said in a calm deep baritone.


    ¡°It¡¯s like two in the morning, big guy,¡± a voice answered.


    Everyone recognized it as the voice that had left David the messages back on the ship.


    David paused, turned his head to look at Lisa.


    ¡°It¡¯s midnight, Boss,¡± she answered, somehow knowing what he wanted.


    ¡°It¡¯s twelve, Nori,¡± he said simply.


    ¡°Nori?¡±


    There was an underlying tone of anger beneath the word, that surprised all of them. It was almost threatening. What was more surprising was David¡¯s response.


    ¡°I apologize,¡± David said sincerely. ¡°Sometimes it is difficult to keep track.¡±


    ¡°There are only three names, Madness,¡± the voice shot back, still displeased. ¡°Two are actual names and one is a title. I know you have difficulties but all you have to do is forget one name and one title. Can¡¯t be a difficult request even for you, right? Even the system did it.¡±


    Deoti looked around the room and found equal surprise and confusion on everyone¡¯s face. All their expressions asked the same question.


    Were they just witnessing David being scolded by someone who wasn¡¯t War? More importantly, was he actually being taking it?


    ¡°Again, I apologize, Dorthna,¡± David continued, voice calm, face expressionless.


    ¡°Good,¡± the man called Dorthna said. ¡°I take it you are currently not on good terms with the government if you¡¯re calling me with a random number.¡±


    ¡°I am not.¡±


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°You got the message and took matters into your own hands. How many times have I told you not to do that? Take a moment to think and breathe before you act.¡±


    ¡°I am not War,¡± David replied.


    ¡°That means nothing. The better you are at holding your trait in check, the stronger it will work for you once you learn to release it. Like I told you before, it¡¯s not that deep.¡±


    Deoti had had enough. She didn¡¯t know who this friend was, but to insinuate that the safety of Melmarc wasn¡¯t important was more than insulting as a friend.


    She stepped forward so that she could be heard loud and clear when she spoke.


    ¡°His kid is trapped in a portal, asshole. It doesn¡¯t get deeper than that.¡±


    Her words were followed by a moment of silence during which David gave her a single empty look before turning his attention back to the phone.


    They waited, maybe three seconds more, before Dorthna spoke again. It felt like he was wasting time just to prove a point. It was a point Deoti knew: no matter what was going on, he was the one with the power here.


    When he spoke, his words were simple.


    ¡°Madness,¡± he said calmly. ¡°Deoti is thirty-eight and single.¡±


    He was telling not asking.


    ¡°She is,¡± David confirmed.


    ¡°Good.¡± Dorthna¡¯s voice had taken an equal emptiness to David¡¯s. ¡°Now tell Deoti that for the duration of this call, she will not speak loud enough for me to hear again. If she does, regardless of my current state, she will die at forty-two, on the day before her forty-third birth day.¡±


    Deoti¡¯s jaw fell. Had she just been threatened?


    ¡°Understood,¡± David answered.


    Deoti looked from one teammate to the other, confused. Had David just accepted the threat as if it was a fact?


    She fought herself to keep her silence. Who the fuck was Dorthna? And how did he know about her when she knew nothing about him? She didn¡¯t even know anyone in David¡¯s life called Nori either.


    In mere moments, she found herself bristling in anger.


    David looked up at her, his eyes uncaring, and said, ¡°For the duration of this call, you are not allowed to say a word. If you understand this, nod once.¡±


    It took all the self control and respect for David she had to nod once.


    ¡°She will not speak again,¡± David said into the phone.


    ¡°Good. Now, before we continue, can we renegotiate the whole idea of only ever giving you information in threes. It is very difficult having to summarize everything I know into three messages.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°I figured, but I just had to try. Sometimes I think you have an obsession with the whole trinity thing that¡¯s why, then I remember that you only ask me to keep things in three, no one else. And only messages.¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s tone had fallen into a casual one, banking on joviality, even. It was a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn from the one he had used to threaten Deoti.


    Clearly displeased, Deoti found herself a seat. She groaned when Fendor gave her a pat on the back.


    ¡°I guess I only have you for another three years,¡± he said in mock solemnity. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you.¡±


    ¡°And how long did it take you to calculate forty-two minus thirty-eight?¡± she retorted in annoyance.


    She was more annoyed at herself for keeping her voice so low that it wouldn¡¯t be heard over the phone


    Fendor shrugged. ¡°The amount of time it took you to choose sitting next to me over the others.¡±


    Deoti sighed and shrugged his hand off. ¡°Go suck it.¡±


    Fendor opened his mouth, likely for another retort, before closing it shut. Surprised, Deoti followed his attention and found David staring at her. There was a frown on his face.


    It seemed he hadn¡¯t been joking when he¡¯d told her to be quiet. If he was showing an expression, then it was serious.


    So she held her tongue and chose to say nothing for the duration of the conversation.


    As for Fendor, he had been right about one thing. The decision to sit next to him had been intentional. If she had taken a sit next to any of their other teammates, they would¡¯ve had nothing but empathy for her.


    And Deoti didn¡¯t want to be pitied. At least not for this.


    She could always trust Fendor to make fun of her rather than pity her. Most of the time she found him annoying, but at times like this, she was grateful for him.


    ¡°So are we still doing the three thing?¡± Dorthna was saying over the phone.


    ¡°No,¡± Madness answered. ¡°This is not a message, so it does not apply. Tell me what you know.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s simple,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Your oldest found out that her boyfriend cheated on her last week and cried in her dorm for approximately two hours. She still has no plans of telling any of you¡ªfor the boy¡¯s sake, obviously. And she doesn¡¯t know that I know. Since the boy is only human, I have no intentions of getting involved in this.¡±


    David nodded as if he¡¯d just been told that water was wet.


    ¡°What else?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Your second confirmed as at two days ago that he can win a fight against an elephant with both hands tied behind his back,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°I think his strength stat is a little overpowered for some reason. You and yours may have to look into that when you can find the time.¡±


    ¡°My second fought an elephant?¡± David asked for clarification.


    ¡°Yep,¡± Dorthna confirmed, his voice slowly being drowned out by the sound of rushing air that had not been there before. ¡°His mentor is a bit too reckless and they had a little mishap at the county zoo. Your second asked if he could help and his mentor agreed. He told me this one himself. He was more than happy to tell me.¡±


    ¡°Finally?¡±


    ¡°Finally, I¡¯ve confirmed that your last is inside a portal. Personally, I am of the opinion that he¡¯s alive and healthy. Before that, he had been going through an interestingly boring mentorship. There¡¯s a girl, but I don¡¯t think its anything anyone needs to think about. It¡¯s probably nothing more than a coincidental pairing. They had him reading files and cleaning offices.¡±


    ¡°He will like that,¡± David said. ¡°He has always been one for organization.¡±


    ¡°I thought so, too,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Turns out we¡¯re both wrong. It seems it must have been driving him insane because next thing we know, he¡¯s going undercover to bust some kind of human trafficking delivery.¡±


    ¡°Human trafficking?¡± Axe muttered.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Dorthna continued, the rushing wind still trying its best to drown at his voice and failing, ¡°in the wider scheme of things, they aren¡¯t very important. The traffickers, I mean. They just do the trafficking because they are doing Gifted experiments. I wouldn¡¯t bother too much about them if not for the fact that one of yours got involved with them.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t there rumors of an underworld organization trafficking something unknown?¡± Fendor muttered. ¡°In the streets I keep hearing that they¡¯re slowly making their way into America, pushing their operation forward.¡±


    ¡°There are,¡± Saxi said in confirmation. ¡°My sources have all but confirmed it. I¡¯ve been meaning to look into it with my spare time but we haven¡¯t really had any spare time for a while now.¡±


    Axe looked between the both of them. ¡°Do you mean the Romanians?¡±


    Deoti wanted to join the conversation but couldn¡¯t. She wasn¡¯t scared of whoever Dorthna was, but she respected David enough to hold her tongue, especially now that Dorthna had information on saving his son.


    ¡°Are they done speculating on the unimportant?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Deoti frowned at how unbothered by them he was. If he could be this unbothered at being interrupted, then why did he threaten her life?


    Maybe because you called him an asshole?


    ¡°I can start processes to look into¡ª¡± Lisa started, only to be cut off by Dorthna.


    ¡°Lisa, dear,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but would you be nice enough and speculate with your peers in a place where you will not interrupt this conversation?¡±


    ¡°Dorthna,¡± David said. As simple as the word was, he was clearly scolding the man. ¡°You do not say ¡®not to be rude¡¯ then proceed to be rude.¡±


    Silence settled on the room.


    Clearly, after seeing the dynamic between David and this man named Dorthna in the beginning, everyone was more than eager to see how Dorthna would react to being scolded by David.


    It would tell them a lot more about the man.


    ¡°You sound just like Mel,¡± Dorthna replied. ¡°¡®Don¡¯t be rude to people, it¡¯s not nice.¡¯ I understand being nice, but in my defense, she was interrupting. You know what? Never mind. This is more of a Mel conversation.¡±


    ¡°Dorthna.¡±


    Dorthna groaned like a petulant child. ¡°Alright. I get it. I¡¯m sorry I was rude to your subordinate.¡±


    ¡°Dorthna,¡± David repeated.


    It was one word. One simple word.


    Dorthna groaned once more. ¡°Alright. Lisa.¡±


    Lisa perked up. ¡°Yes, Dorthna.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I was rude to you. It was not my intention to be rude but that does not excuse it. I should¡¯ve tried to be intentionally nice, not just to not be rude. Do you forgive me?¡±


    Lisa looked between everybody. When her eyes settled on David, he was waiting patiently.


    ¡°I¡­ forgive you,¡± she said, confused.


    ¡°If you want a gesture of my sincerity,¡± Dorthna added. ¡°The most I am willing to offer is an afternoon out.¡±


    ¡°What about a night out?¡± she teased.


    ¡°No, can¡¯t do,¡± Dorthna replied. ¡°When I am not being imprisoned by your boss and his significant other, I use my nights for things that are extremely necessary.¡±


    ¡°Then afternoon it is,¡± Lisa said, unbothered.


    Dorthna made a sound, then muttered something too low to be heard. It was so low that the sound of rushing wind didn¡¯t have to try in order to drown it out.


    ¡°May I ask a question, Dorthna?¡± Lisa said, looking at David.


    ¡°Go for it.¡±


    ¡°Where you are right now is so loud. What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure your boss can answer that one.¡±


    Everyone looked to David.


    The response they got was simple yet confusing.


    ¡°He¡¯s falling.¡±

 SIXTY-TWO: Pray To Him

    ¡°Why is he falling?¡± Lisa asked, confused.


    A man, Gifted or not, did not casually fall while having a conversation. And the height he was falling from had to be significantly high considering how long he had been falling for.


    Deoti was happy to say that she, too, was curious as to why he was falling.


    ¡°I will not say,¡± David answered simply.


    ¡°You know you can ask me, right, Lisa?¡± Dorthna said a little too kindly for Deoti¡¯s comfort.


    What was more annoying continued to be the fact that they knew nothing of this man called Dorthna. How he knew David and his family was an enigma. Who he was remained an enigma. How he could get away with scolding David and still be scolded by David was an enigma.


    You¡¯re thinking too hard about this, she told herself, seeking to calm herself. David¡¯s life does not have to give you all its details. He¡¯s just your boss.


    Sadly, David had always treated them more as friends, and that had blurred the lines a little bit. Deoti liked to think of him as a good friend. A quiet friend that rarely if not never talked, but a good friend, still.


    ¡°Would you tell me if I asked you?¡± Lisa asked in response to Dorthna.


    ¡°Most likely not,¡± Dorthna answered, a smile in his voice. ¡°But it¡¯s a nice thing to do.¡±


    ¡°Dorthna,¡± David¡¯s voice interrupted. ¡°What do you know about the portal?¡±


    ¡°C-rank,¡± Dorthna replied, changing conversations seamlessly. ¡°At least on paper. From what I¡¯ve deduced, its most likely a pseudo B-rank. Not a B-rank but definitely not a C-rank. At least not anymore.¡±


    ¡°Have Delvers been sent in?¡± Fendor asked.


    David raised his head and gave him a look no one could decipher before returning his attention back to his phone.


    Everyone in the room remained confused. Why the look?


    ¡°I have it on good authority that there was a casualty at the point of the portal opening,¡± Dorthna continued. ¡°A child, not Gifted. Which leads me to believe that whatever your third was doing there¡ªsorry, your third child¡ªit was not expected to be something beyond a Gifted¡¯s ability to handle.¡±


    ¡°He is sixteen,¡± David said.


    ¡°He is Gifted. Trust me, there is segregation in this situation. But I digress. It¡¯s been roughly twelve days since he left my reach. While I am not bothered, I would advise haste. As you already know, portals are one of the most controversial things in existence.¡±


    David was quiet for a moment before he asked, ¡°Do you have coordinates?¡±


    ¡°You do know that¡ª¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s words were interrupted by a massive boom. It was loud and world shattering. It was the sound you would expect from a boulder dropped from a significant height.


    Lisa perked up at the sound in worry and there wasn¡¯t a single person in the room that did not wince.


    Except David.


    David simply waited patiently.


    ¡°Is he alright?¡± Axe asked with a touch of worry. ¡°He doesn¡¯t sound alright.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s alright,¡± David said.


    Dorthna¡¯s voice came through the phone a moment after.


    ¡°By Michael¡¯s left wing. I¡¯m going to rip his third eye out and feed it to his left leg when I find him!¡± he hissed. ¡°Oh, the phone made it. That¡¯s good to know.¡±


    ¡°You were hoping the phone wouldn¡¯t make it,¡± David said, matter of fact.


    ¡°Well, the conversation was kind of encroaching on ''not my problem'' territory and I didn¡¯t want to cut the call,¡± Dorthna said unapologetically. ¡°The phone not making it was supposed to be a better option.¡±


    ¡°Did he just hit the ground?¡± Saxi asked, looking around to each teammate for an answer.


    Deoti believed that was accurate.


    Where exactly did he fall from?


    ¡°You do know that lies outside my jurisdiction, right?¡± Dorthna told David casually.


    ¡°I do,¡± David answered. ¡°But I had to ask¡­ in case.¡±


    Deoti wasn¡¯t sure if David was asking because he was a worried father or if he was trying to gauge how he would respond to the outcome of this entire situation when it was over.


    If the government had indeed sent Delvers to help his child, it was a good thing. But it also meant that they would have to arrange whatever strategy they came up with to handle those Delvers as well.


    That Deoti did not know which of the reasons David was asking for said a lot about David¡¯s relationship with his team.


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°You¡¯re lucky I am a fan of at least two of your offsprings. Delvers have been dispatched. And only a few hours ago. From what I can tell, they are not supposed to be enough since the portal is being treated as a C-rank portal. You should get there or send someone you trust. But I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re going in yourself.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    Dorthna chuckled. ¡°For a pseudo B-rank. I pity the portal inhabitants already. I¡¯ll text you the address.¡±


    Then the call cut.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t he just say the address?¡± Saxi asked no one in particular.


    ¡°Because he just might be a bit of an arse,¡± Deoti answered, hoping she was allowed to talk.


    Then she turned to David a moment before the phone in his hand lit up with a message.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a question, Boss,¡± she said.


    David stared down at the phone screen. ¡°Ask.¡±


    The mobile phone looked so tiny in his hands and he looked down at whatever he was looking at as if he couldn¡¯t understand how phones worked.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you stand up for me?¡±


    It was a petty question, and Deoti knew she shouldn¡¯t have asked it. But she felt offended by the fact that he had not stood up for her the way he had stood up for Lisa. She knew Lisa hadn¡¯t deserved Dorthna¡¯s rudeness, but while she had, Deoti refused to believe what she had done was worth having someone threaten her life.


    David¡¯s answer was simple and a little more than she expected.


    ¡°Because you would¡¯ve died when he said you would''ve died.¡±


    That gave everyone another moment of pause. Deoti was an S-ranker. It wasn¡¯t difficult to believe that there was someone out there she didn¡¯t know that was capable of killing her. The time specificity was what had her stumped.


    Also, the fact that David had said it so simply and precisely meant that he didn¡¯t believe the man that had been on the other end of the phone call could somehow cause her death on the day of his choosing, he knew it.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Deoti muttered.


    That was a bit overwhelming. Especially when her class was technically overpowered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think too hard about it, D.¡± Fendor patted her on the back softly. ¡°It¡¯s a big world and you¡¯re just a little girl in a large world. There was bound to be somebody capable of killing you at whatever time they pleased.¡±


    Deoti shot him a scowl. ¡°Little girl? You¡¯re younger than me.¡±


    Fendor shrugged. ¡°Semantics.¡±


    David tapped on the mobile phone a few more times, then turned to Axe. ¡°Help.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss,¡± Axe said, then looked at Lisa. ¡°Please do the honors.¡±


    Lisa groaned as she got up from her seat.


    ¡°You know you¡¯ll have to learn how to use smart phones at some point in time, Boss,¡± she said as she walked up to David. ¡°They¡¯ve been around since forever. And you also quite literally own one.¡±


    When she got to him, she held her hand out and he placed the device in it.


    ¡°What do we need?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°Gps,¡± he answered.


    ¡°And a plan,¡± Axe added.


    Lisa tapped on the phone screen a few times before turning to Saxi. ¡°I¡¯ve got the gps up with the address. Your turn.¡±


    She tossed him the phone and he caught it easily.


    He stared down at the map, committing it to memory. Saxi was their scout and guide. Directions were all abandoned to his responsibility.


    Deoti was yet to meet a better scout than the man.


    He tossed the phone back to Lisa, who caught it easily. ¡°Got it. Your turn.¡±


    ¡°Confirm you have a pre-planned route as well as alternative routes,¡± she said, her tone business-like.


    ¡°Confirmed,¡± he answered, then looked at David. ¡°Speed or stealth.¡±


    ¡°Speed,¡± David said. ¡°We adapt as we go.¡±


    Saxi nodded.


    ¡°How¡¯s the leg?¡± Axe asked him.


    Saxi tapped the leg in question on the ground. ¡°Ninety percent. Not a big deal in B-rank portal.¡±


    Everyone agreed.


    ¡°Alright, then,¡± Lisa said, looking at each of them. ¡°Then comms going live in three, two, one¡­¡±


    Deoti''s interface flashed in front of her.


    [You have received an Entry request from Lisa.]


    [Would you like to accept?]


    [Y/N]


    Deoti didn¡¯t waste anytime, accepting the request without thinking about it.


    [You have accepted]


    [You have been afflicted with skill Mind Thief.]


    Not for the first time, Deoti was glad that she and Lisa were on the same team. She always got a prompt before the skill affected her, but she¡¯d heard enough rumors about the skill at S-rank being able to intrude on another person¡¯s mind without requesting for permission.


    Confirm comms are operational, Lisa¡¯s voice echoed in Deoti¡¯s head along with a slight discomfort in her leg. It wasn¡¯t significant, it was simply just there.


    Confirmed, she replied, along with five other voices.


    Good, Lisa said, then turned to Saxi once more. I need more access, Saxi. And can you isolate the pain in your leg, it¡¯s trickling into the comms.


    Sorry, Saxi apologized. You should have access now.


    Thank you.


    The words were barely finished when something appeared in Deoti¡¯s periphery. It was hazy, coming to life at the bottom left side of her vision.


    It took a second before it took a clear shape. It was round and compact. A map. At one point of it was were six dots. All the dots were green. One was a deeper green than the rest.


    David was always designated as the deepest green.


    A moment after, the lines representing the roads and pathways on the map lit up. Deoti stared at a single line that ran straight from the box they were currently in all the way to the side of the map until it disappeared into it.


    Deoti could never be unimpressed by Saxi¡¯s mapping skill. He said the skill was named the [Gamer¡¯s Guide] and apparently had a few more features than this.


    Reroute, David¡¯s voice came through and a visible shiver went through Deoti.


    Unlike the others whose thoughts carried the same sound as their actual voices, David¡¯s was different. The sound of his thoughts was¡­


    Deoti didn¡¯t have any actual way to put it into perspective. The best she could describe it, and this was her being nice, was that it sounded like what you would expect a thousand demons crying at the gates of hell to sound like.


    She could still remember the way the entire team had reacted the first time they¡¯d heard it. Now they were better accustomed to it. They had to be, since Lisa couldn¡¯t alter it.


    Alright, Boss, Saxi replied.


    The route highlighted in blue dimmed, then turned yellow. An alternate path lit up in blue.


    Good, David thought, then started walking towards the door. Plans will be made in the car.


    When he got to the door, he opened it and ducked beneath the door frame so that he could pass.


    Um¡­ Boss.


    David stopped halfway out the door to look at Lisa. Yes?


    Lisa looked down at herself. Like everyone else in the room she was dressed in military black, dark enough to blend in with the night. The attire was custom made, crafted by Fendor. And from her vest hung a military issued automatic rifle along with magazines and a few other items designed to aid in clearing a portal or waging a small war.


    Maybe we shouldn¡¯t go out looking like this, Lisa thought back.


    David looked down at himself then grunted in what could¡¯ve meant anything. Stepping back into the house, he closed the door behind him.


    Fendor, he thought but Fendor was already moving.


    Got it, Boss.


    Fendor placed his hand on the ground beneath him and it gently sank into the shadow cast by his feet from the candle light, then the shadow expanded.


    Alright, kids, I¡¯ll need everyone¡¯s measurements, he thought. I¡¯ve already got Saxi¡¯s, Boss¡¯, and Axe¡¯s¡­ Oh, I¡¯ve got Lisa¡¯s, too.


    He turned and gave Deoti an impish grin. I guess that leaves you, kid.


    Deoti sighed. I¡¯m older than you.


    Each person in the room was already stripping down their attire, removing their guns and vests, taking off their pants.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Bust, waist, hips. Fendor¡¯s smile turned into one of false innocence. The whole shebang.


    Deoti sighed, taking off her vest. I ain¡¯t giving you squat.


    In a matter of seconds, all their clothes and guns were neatly folded and waiting in front of Fendor. Deoti had given him nothing of the information he''d asked for.


    Alright, then, he thought. This will just take a very quick moment.


    Each piece of clothing sank into the darkness. The process was simple as they went down one by one. Each pile was replaced by a new pile of the same size, and Fendor called out the name of the owners as they came up, starting with David.


    Before long, they were all dressed in casual clothing, comfortable and perfectly sized.


    The next time you ask for my measurements, I¡¯m reporting you to HR, Deoti told him as they left the building and made their way down the flight of stairs. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a sexual harassment policy breach in there.


    There is, Lisa said. But they are more likely to take you in than help you.


    That was not lost to Deoti. There was a high chance that once they were done with this rogue operation, David would have a sit down with the government and they would all be exonerated somehow. Unlike S-ranks that could always be poached from one country or the other, Oaths were not expendable.


    Since they¡¯d gone against Shield directly and had been quite rude to her, Deoti was more than certain that the woman would want their heads on a spike. The legal equivalent would be contract termination of some form or some punishment here or there.


    And the government would rather lose five S-rankers than an Oath.


    Which meant the only person that could save their careers, not that it really needed saving, was David.


    Actually, David was less likely to be the one doing the negotiating. All communications between David and legal bodies usually went through his wife, after all.


    When they got downstairs, Deoti led them out of the building and into the alleyway. They would¡¯ve looked no more conspicuous than would be expected of a group of adults walking in the night if not for the behemoths that were David and Axe.


    When they got to the alley, Saxi paused and gave Deoti a displeased look.


    Really, he thought, gesturing at the car. A mini bus?


    It¡¯s called a sienna, Lisa pointed out, walking past him and towards the car. Who¡¯s driving?


    Deoti tossed Axe the key. Hopefully Axe. He¡¯s the best driver.


    I¡¯m the best driver, Saxi retorted with great emphasis on himself. No one outdrives me.


    Axe headed for the driver¡¯s side of the car. Would you like to drive a mini bus, Sax?


    It¡¯s a sienna, Deoti groaned. A Si-en-na.


    Axe opened the door and hopped into the car. He pressed a button and the side door slid open to the passenger section.


    You couldn¡¯t steal a good lambo or something, Saxi muttered as he opened the front passenger door and hopped in.


    First, Fendor pointed out. How do you expect Boss to fit in a lambo?


    Well, she could¡¯ve picked one up for me, too.


    Second, Fendor continued without missing a beat. Where do you think we are that she would find one just lying around? She was picking up a means of transportation not executing a daring heist.


    I thought you guys have that lying around.


    Fendor entered the vehicle last and Axe pressed a button. The passenger door slowly started sliding shut as he turned the car on.


    This isn¡¯t the movies or the Gifted capital city, Sax, Fendor pointed out.


    Saxi was a Congolese, from one of the actual villages in the country. When he¡¯d gained his class he¡¯d been closing their portals until he¡¯d had a bit of a mishap in his country a year back. No one knew what exactly the mishap was except David, and from what they knew, David had scouted him personally.


    He spent every moment he was not in a portal or answering to government requests in his house in the Gifted capital of the country where there were high priced cars casually parked on the side of the roads.


    Everything he knew about the country was from movies and the Gifted capital city. He wasn¡¯t so blinded to reality that he thought expensive cars were parked on the side of the road everywhere in the country, but he was jaded enough to believe that there had to be at least one somewhere.


    Axe turned the vehicle onto the road and their journey to their next destination started. On the map at the bottom left corner of Deoti¡¯s view, they were nothing but a bleep moving in a direction down the path.


    It was exactly like a gps on any smart phone or a video game.


    So about that strategy, Fendor said. Guns are in storage, so I¡¯m guessing I bring them out once we¡¯re in the portal?


    Isn¡¯t it better to go guns out before entering the portal? Saxi asked. That¡¯s how we always do it.


    Yes, Linda agreed. But this is a pseudo B-rank. Trust me, we¡¯ve got nothing to worry about. We should keep the guns hidden so we don¡¯t look like a threat to anyone currently guarding the portal.


    Do you think the Alfa woman¡¯s going to be there? Axe asked.


    Personally, no. Deoti drew an invisible circle on the window next to her, simply looking for what to do with her hands. If she¡¯s irresponsible enough to get a kid caught up in a portal, I don¡¯t think she¡¯d care enough to stay through an entire night. She¡¯s probably home.


    Then there¡¯ll be night duty cops. Axe took a turn. Innocent people with no relationship to this mess. Best not to scare them with a group of armed people coming up to them.


    I take it we¡¯re sneaking in, then, Lisa thought.


    Why? Saxi asked, puzzled. We¡¯re S-rankers. They should be happy to have us. I¡¯m sure the moment they know its us, they¡¯ll pull out the red carpet.


    He¡¯s kidding¡­ Fendor turned to Lisa. Right?


    She shook her head.


    Human behavior doesn¡¯t always work that way, Saxi, she told him. In this situation, if there¡¯s anybody who knows enough they¡¯ll panic if a bunch of S-rankers suddenly turn up. If this is as big an internal mess as I think it is¡ª


    As it should be, Fendor slipped in.


    ¡ªThen no one will be pleased to see powerful Delvers showing up, Lisa continued without missing a beat. They¡¯ll most likely want to throw laws in our face to stop us. We¡¯re likely to get told things about how S-rankers aren¡¯t allowed in gates below A-rank unless in specific emergency situations and things like that.


    Deoti wasn¡¯t really a fan of that law but she understood it. Having S-rankers go around closing every portal that popped up was only good in the short run. In the long run, it would be problematic since lower ranked Delvers would not have the experience required to close any portal.


    A class rank, after all, does not necessarily interpret to a Gifted¡¯s power. An inexperienced A-rank Delver could find themselves dying in a C-rank portal easier than people would believe possible.


    So portals have class restrictions except in cases of emergency so that all Delvers get the chance to grow and learn and gain experience.


    So what do we do when they hit us with something like that? Saxi asked.


    We blackmail them, Fendor replied sinisterly.


    We aren¡¯t blackmailing anyone, Deoti snapped at him. Then she turned to David. Right?


    David said nothing for a moment, and Deoti got the feeling that he was thinking. Everyone else probably did because no one said anything.


    It took about three to five seconds before he finally replied.


    When we get there, he thought slowly, his words echoing in their minds chaotically despite also being so slow, Deoti will speak if we run into any official of any powerful capacity.


    That made everyone pause. Axe had to look at David through the rear view mirror.


    Are you sure, Boss? He asked.


    David only nodded.


    Deoti was hesitant. Linda was their comms specialist for a reason. She wasn¡¯t just the link to their mental communication but also their mediator between them and normal civilians.


    She did it better than the rest of the. She could de-escalate any situation with words as easily as she could escalate anyone. And the entire team always trusted her ability to convey what they needed conveyed in whatever way the situation required.


    Uhm¡­ is there a way you would like me to run it, Boss? Deoti asked a little concerned since he was putting her outside her comfort zone.


    Free rein, he thought. Whatever you feel.


    This was a problem. David only gave them free rein as regards their levels of expertise and their comfort zone.


    You did not give a blacksmith free rein at building a card house.


    Okay, Deoti replied with concern.


    But if she was being given free reign then she was being given free reign. And she definitely knew how she felt about people who would be so stupid as to let a child end up in a portal.


    Especially David¡¯s child.


    On the map in front of her, their destination appeared within the circle. It was marked with a simple red pin.


    Between Fendor teleporting them to the outskirts of Brooklyn, them making their way here, and her stealing a car and buying a phone off some random kid, they were finally on their way to save Mel.


    Deoti only hoped they weren¡¯t too late.


    Just because she could, she turned to David and asked, what if I was inside a portal on that day.


    His thought was a simple response. It came in her head in the same screeching sound of dying demons.


    It wouldn¡¯t matter.


    The response scared her, not because he continued to be in support of whoever Dorthna was, but because all the demons that were the sound of his thoughts sounded as one.


    Deoti was sure of one thing. She wasn¡¯t going to touch the subject of Dorthna again.


    ¡­


    It had been a few days and they hadn¡¯t cut the lights to the building. Or the water. Portals rarely appeared in residential areas but there were protocols for when they did.


    Portals affected humans but they rarely affected anything else when they appeared. Only living things. Buildings remained intact, except on the few occasions when they appeared between walls.


    So the lights were on, the house brightly lit.


    ¡°Have it.¡±


    Alfa looked up and away from the portal. In front of her was her husband, The Blight, offering her a glass of water.


    ¡°If you won¡¯t come home,¡± he said, ¡°the least you can do is keep yourself hydrated.¡±


    Alfa was in no mood to drink water. Still, she took the glass cup from him and took a sip. The water was room temperature, just the way she liked it.


    ¡°Still,¡± The Blight settled down on the floor and sat beside her, ¡°you should really come home.¡±


    Alfa pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them after dropping the glass of water beside her.


    ¡°I want to be here when they come out,¡± she said. ¡°I owe it to them.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a C-rank portal,¡± her husband said casually. ¡°And Clinton is a B-rank Delver. Trust me, they¡¯ll be fine. The kid will be fine, too.¡±


    Alfa frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not. But sometimes you have to hope for the best while you pray for it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how life works, babe,¡± Alfa sighed. Her husband was always trying to be optimistic about almost everything, which was weird when his power quite literally rotted things alive.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said suddenly. ¡°I should¡¯ve been able to prevent this. I should¡¯ve known better.¡±


    ¡°Hindsight is always perfect, love.¡± Her husband looked up at the ceiling. ¡°You knew better, trust me. The world just works the way it works.¡±


    ¡°I just think that¡ª¡±


    The Blight turned to her when her words stopped abruptly and found her holding a finger to her lips.


    ¡°Hey!¡± someone said from the stairs. ¡°You can¡¯t be here?¡±


    Alfa and her husband waited patiently, listened to the conversation.


    ¡°I said you can¡¯t be¡ª¡±


    The words cut off suddenly and Alfa paled. She really hoped tonight wasn¡¯t the night.


    Please no.


    ¡°What was that?¡± The Blight asked.


    ¡°Something we shouldn¡¯t be experiencing,¡± she muttered, pulling herself to her feet. ¡°I really hope I¡¯m wrong.¡±


    ¡°What shouldn¡¯t we be experiencing?¡± her husband asked, coming to stand beside her.


    Not for the first time Alfa wanted to tell him what the commissioner had told her, but she couldn¡¯t. She was yet to experience to consequences of the knowledge she was now burdened with but the commissioner had made it sound extremely dire.


    In the event that it was the case and it was really terrible, she didn¡¯t want to burden her husband with the same problems.


    Instead, she reached for her side arm and pulled her gun free from its holster. It was a simple handgun, government issued. She doubted it would do anything to someone who carried the title of Oath, but there was something calming about having the weapon in her hand.


    ¡°Who are we getting into a fight with?¡± her husband asked in a low whisper.


    Alfa inched closer to the door. ¡°Hopefully nobody.¡±


    When she got to the door, she took cover at the wall beside it and pointed her gun, aimed outside.


    ¡°Announce yourself,¡± she instructed.


    To her surprise, she got an answer.


    ¡°No.¡±


    It was a woman¡¯s voice.


    Was it an Oath? The commissioner said nothing about which parent was the Oath. It could be Melmarc¡¯s mother or it could be his father.


    She didn¡¯t know which one would turn out to be the better option.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not come and take your gun from you,¡± the voice said.


    Half-certain that whoever the person was had no intentions of attacking her, Alfa stuck her head out so that she could see the person.


    A lady in her thirties stood at the head of the stairs dressed in a grey hoodie that said ¡®Here for a good time not a long time¡¯ and cargo pants. At her feet were two of Alfa¡¯s detectives. Nan and Kolaski. The latter wasn¡¯t necessarily under her direct command.


    Her eyes must¡¯ve settled on the words a little too long because the woman looked down at it, then frowned. She had the expression of someone trying to focus which was unsurprising. It wasn¡¯t very easy to read the words on a shirt you were wearing.


    After a moment she swore under her breath. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill him.¡±


    ¡°Babe?¡± The Blight said beside Alfa and she gestured him to silence.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t announced yourself,¡± she told the woman, gun still aimed.


    The woman paused, then groaned like a woman having to deal with a child she didn¡¯t like. ¡°You should know that the moment you pull that trigger, everything is going to go very awry.¡±


    Alfa didn¡¯t want to pull the trigger. ¡°Then you should introduce yourself.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Are you a Delver?¡±


    ¡°Likely.¡±


    ¡°A ranker?¡±


    Beside Alfa, The Blight stiffened. ¡°Why would a ranker be coming to a C-rank portal.¡±


    ¡°Because the kid¡¯s dad is probably strong enough to be a ranker,¡± she answered in a low voice.


    The woman at the stairs gave a low whistle. ¡°So you do know something. That should make this easier. Stand down.¡±


    ¡°There are rules to portal acquisitions,¡± Alfa said. ¡°You know that. This portal is a C-rank. Someone of your capacity shouldn¡¯t be here. You don¡¯t have any jurisdiction.¡±


    The moment the words left Alfa¡¯s mouth, she had a very sinking feeling that they were the wrong words to be said because a slow smile split the woman¡¯s face.


    Things were about to take a sharp turn and she knew it.


    She turned to her husband. ¡°Honey, we need to act¡ª¡±


    When she turned back to the woman, she was gone.


    ¡°Shit,¡± she swore. ¡°We¡¯re in trouble.¡±


    But Oath or not, she wasn¡¯t going to let some Delver walk into her jurisdiction, kill her detectives and just trample all over her and the laws without putting up a fight. That she was the weaker party did not mean that she had to roll over and die.


    The Blight was already moving. He¡¯d barely taken two steps when the air in the room pulled in one direction.


    Alfa turned and found a black hole opening right at the center of the room. The woman was a teleporter. That was bad, very bad.


    She raised her gun, aimed at the black hole appearing. Some teleporters could be hit through their portals, but she doubted the same laws would apply to an Oath.


    Come on, come out. She kept her aim low, hoping to shoot the woman in the leg if she had to.


    She didn¡¯t have to watch her back in the event that the woman was not alone, after all, there was nobody she could trust with her back more than her husband.


    Then a loud thud erupted from behind her and shook the floor beneath her feet.


    ¡°If I feel anymore pain than this, I¡¯ll crush your head like a tomato,¡± a deep voice said from behind her.


    It was followed by the low mumbling of her husband¡¯s voice, too smothered for her to make out.


    Alfa turned immediately, trained the gun on her new target.


    A man stood there. He was tall, maybe five inches over six feet, and he had her husband¡¯s head buried in a crater in the wall. His hand was almost a paw that covered The Blight¡¯s entire lower face.


    Alfa¡¯s husband, ever the fighter, had both hands wrapped around the man¡¯s massive forearm, green liquid pooling from it.


    Alfa had seen it enough times to know he¡¯d used his skill. The fact that the large man wasn¡¯t screaming in pain was a testament to his pain tolerance.


    ¡°Let him go!¡± Alfa barked, barely containing herself. ¡°I said let him go!¡±


    ¡°So jumpy.¡±


    The words were barely done reaching Alfa¡¯s ears when her hand reached for her second gun. She drew it in one fluid motion and aimed it at the portal. She did not aim low.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you come any closer!¡± she barked at the black hole. ¡°I swear to God I¡¯ll shoot you in the head.¡±


    It was a man¡¯s voice and she found two people standing where there had once been a black hole. A man and a woman.


    ¡°Am I the only one with an overwhelming urge to punch her?¡± the woman asked the man casually, as if there wasn¡¯t a gun currently pointed t them.


    The man shook his head. ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°But I thought you don¡¯t hit women?¡± the woman asked.


    ¡°I do when she has a weapon.¡±


    The woman made a gesture with a shrug of her shoulders that said she wasn¡¯t going to complain about it.


    ¡°Fair point,¡± she said. ¡°Especially when it¡¯s a weapon riddled in so many enchantments.¡±


    Well, that took the element of surprise out of Alfa¡¯s favor. Most Delvers of significant enough strength weren¡¯t affected by gunshots, but her guns were enchanted, which gave each shot an extra oomf.


    If these people knew that, then they wouldn¡¯t underestimate her.


    ¡°Hit her in the face and get this over with,¡± the man said. ¡°You definitely don¡¯t want her pointing a gun at Boss. You know how he can get.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll probably be fine,¡± the woman shrugged.


    Alfa hesitated but didn¡¯t put down her gun. ¡°Tell your friend to let go of my husband.¡±


    She said the words slowly, trying to calm herself. They were outnumbered, and there was a high chance that all of them were stronger Gifted than her and her husband.


    Alfa didn¡¯t like the fact that she couldn¡¯t avenge her detectives, but her husband¡¯s life wasn¡¯t worth avenging them either. Not to her.


    The woman cocked a brow at her. ¡°Do you really not understand that you are in no position to make demands?¡±


    Alfa worried her lower lip between her teeth. ¡°¡­Please.¡±


    ¡°Would you like to let him go, Axe?¡± the woman asked.


    Axe looked back at her. ¡°If he stops struggling, I will let him go.¡±


    Alfa turned to tell her husband everything was going to be alright when her instincts reacted. She returned her attention to the woman and pulled the trigger of her gun.


    There was a muffled cough from her weapon as her silence enchantment kicked in but the woman was gone, weaving beneath her arm.


    Alfa tried to readjust her aim but her arm was already in the woman¡¯s hands. In a quick flurry of motion, she¡¯d lost her gun and it clattered to the ground, skidding along it to one end of the room.


    Outclassed, Alfa refused to go down without a fight. Her second arm was already in motion, weapon taking aim. The woman disarmed her in the blink of an eye.


    Alfa stood, shocked as the woman disassembled her heavily enchanted gun and tossed the parts aside.


    ¡°I hate enchanters,¡± she muttered, then turned to her companion. ¡°Look at all the things she had to go through to imitate a fraction of what I can do.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a hater,¡± the man teased. Then he looked at Alfa and added: ¡°Spread your legs and grit your teeth.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Alfa stuttered a second before pain flared in her jaw.


    A few years ago, she¡¯d enchanted a tooth on both sides of her mouth for this exact situation. She did not see the blow, but one of the enchantments lit up to protect her from the concussive effect of being punched square in the jaw.


    Her head snapped to the side even as the enchantment came on and she staggered back. All she thought was how she had to remain on her feet as the world swirled around her.


    Then she crumpled to the ground, powerless. Her head was spinning.


    ¡°All clear!¡± the woman called out to nobody over Alfa.


    As for the man, he squinted down at Alfa, then looked at the woman. ¡°Did you have to hit her so hard.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± the woman snorted. ¡°I barely tapped her. I¡¯m not trying to kill a low rank.¡±


    ¡°Well, that was¡ª¡±


    The man shut up as someone walked into the room.


    Their new companion was large, so large that he had to bend to pass the door. Once he was inside, his eyes settled only on the portal. He afforded no one else his attention even as The Blight resumed his chaotic struggle against Axe¡¯s hold.


    After a moment, he finally looked at Alfa and she paled.


    She recognized his face. She had seen it before. On a video recording.


    Life had decided that she had run out of good luck. Naymond had effectively made her the enemy of a man who¡¯d beat a dragon and its knight without breaking a sweat.


    And just as he had looked in the video, he remained without expression.


    He walked into the room and a lady and a guy followed behind him.


    When the man that was Melmarc¡¯s father got to her front, he stopped to look down at her. His eyes remained empty, though Alfa had a strong feeling that he was considering something. In the end, he spoke.


    ¡°You are weak.¡±


    Weak. It was a simple word, a heavy word. Alfa heard it and had never been happier to be weak in her life. She had the feeling that he was telling her that she was too weak to gain his attention.


    She needed to be weaker. His attention was something she definitely did not need.


    ¡°Too weak,¡± the man continued. ¡°I do not know how to handle this. I do not know what punishment befits such weakness. So I will leave it for the one who decides for me when she returns.¡±


    Then he turned and walked into the portal as if nothing else mattered.


    Alfa hoped she was also too weak for whoever ¡®she¡¯ was.


    The man and the woman who¡¯d come out of the black hole followed Melmarc¡¯s father and disappeared into the portal. Then the man and woman that had entered with him followed, all of them dressed in casual clothing.


    Only Axe was left now, and try as she did, Alfa still couldn¡¯t move. Her legs still wouldn¡¯t obey her.


    Axe held The Blight up by the head without any strain, then threw him against another wall. Alfa¡¯s husband hit it with a loud thud before falling to the ground.


    Axe walked up to the portal, turning his back on The Blight without concern. When he got to it, he did not enter immediately. Instead, he stopped to look at Alfa.


    ¡°If you have a God,¡± he said. ¡°Pray to him, and hope that he does not forsake you.¡±


    Then he disappeared into the portal.


    None of them had batted an eye at the statue of pepper on the other side of the room. None of them had cared.


    Alfa realized then that the only reason she was still alive was because all of them did not deem her important. She was merely an insignificance that had just happened to be between them and the portal.


    They had weighed her value and found her empty.


    She had not been worth killing.

 SIXTY-THREE: Skin Walker

    Darkness was a bearable thing when the only things the light showed were beauties tainted with the underlying threat of monsters that walked with spindly limbs and critters that latched unto you and refused to let you go.


    It was also a welcome experience when a man was dying in front of you.


    Melmarc forced a trembling hand against Naymond¡¯s lips. Between the both of them, his interface lit up, presenting him with information he already had.


    [You have used Vitality of the Drunk]


    Come on, he begged. You can¡¯t die.


    There was something about the very thought of Naymond dying in front of him. It wasn¡¯t just in the discomfort of watching someone die. There was the discomfort of watching someone he knew die. And, yet, even that was not all of it.


    Even though they hadn¡¯t spent much time in the portal together, there was a slightly odd relationship there. Two people who¡¯d survived a portal together, yet alone. They had stuck it out in their own way until help had arrived.


    Now that help was here, no matter what anyone thought a man who had doomed him to the mistake of ending up in a portal, Melmarc refused to believe Naymond deserved to go this way.


    He felt a single drop of liquid fall from his hand, the skill activating the way he knew. Angling his hand once more, he positioned it so that the next drop would trail a path straight into Naymond¡¯s throat.


    Melmarc knew instinctively that it didn¡¯t really matter. If the droplet landed on Naymond¡¯s tongue, the skill would work the same way. But he couldn¡¯t be sure. He couldn¡¯t take the chance.


    Unlike when he¡¯d helped the woman named Claire, he found himself lacking patience.


    The Delvers remained squatted around him. Quiet. Patient. If anyone had anything to say, no one was saying it. To one side of the room the largest of them, Nelson, kept Claire company. Her breathing was paced well, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Color had returned to her face and she was a far cry from the pale woman that had needed saving.


    But she was not yet awake.


    A gentle hand settled on Melmarc¡¯s shoulder after a third drop of his skill fell into Naymond¡¯s mouth. It was gentle but firm, and it demanded his attention.


    ¡°Marc.¡±


    It was a single word. His name said so simply. Yet, it was all the condolence anyone could put in a single word.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t even sure if ¡®sorry¡¯ would¡¯ve carried a heavier level of condolence. Still, he was not ready to accept it. He and Naymond weren¡¯t even close enough for him to be receiving condolences on anything regarding him.


    He¡¯d given you a place to stay.


    It was as if his mind was giving him a reason to accept the condolence. But it was wrong. Even if Naymond died, which he was not willing to accept¡ªnot yet¡ªit didn¡¯t change the fact that the portal still needed to be cleared.


    And I still need to fight a demi-god.


    Melmarc felt his mind tilt at the thought. Importance moved slightly, priorities struggled to realign themselves.


    His brows furrowed as he found himself focusing on the here and now. Caldath wasn¡¯t an immediate problem. He was a problem, but he was one that dangled somewhere at the end of the portal¡­


    Hopefully.


    ¡°You have to stop,¡± Clinton¡¯s voice came from behind Melmarc. It was followed by a bright flair of lights coming to life behind them.


    From their short journey from the forest to the building, Melmarc had come to think of the man as the leader of the group. For some reason, they¡¯d slapped different Delvers who hadn¡¯t worked together before into a group and sent them into the portal.


    That knowledge had Melmarc considering the fact that the Delvers around him had been a rushed job. An emergency plan scrounged up on a last minute act.


    Oddly enough, the idea did not worry him. Each man looked like they knew what they were doing.


    And while Melmarc had gotten no experience with Claire, he liked to think she knew what she was doing, too.


    Which meant that her mastery of [Vitality of the Drunk] had to be significantly stronger than his.


    With the thought fresh in his mind, he turned away from Naymond and moved to his feet.


    To Clinton, he said, ¡°He¡¯s not dead.¡±


    Clinton nodded kindly. ¡°I never said he was.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    You seem desperate, Melmarc thought as he made his way across the room. The room was illuminated in white and red lights from glowsticks that littered the ground. Each one was brighter than the average glowstick Melmarc knew. The Delvers watched him move until he stood over Nelson and Claire¡¯s unconscious body.


    Nelson looked up at him, then down at Claire. He repeated the action twice before turning his attention to Clinton.


    Clinton was squatting next to Naymond now. He had replaced Melmarc as if he was keeping the position safe for him.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± he said in response to Nelson¡¯s unspoken request.


    For a moment Melmarc found himself wondering what he would¡¯ve done if the large man hadn¡¯t allowed him do whatever it was that he wanted to do. No answer to came to him.


    I guess it¡¯s a good thing it didn¡¯t happen.


    Placing his worries aside, Melmarc bent down and tapped Claire gently on the cheek with his hand. When he¡¯d been carrying her she had moved in his arms, adjusted for comfort. That was not the action of someone that was unconscious, it was the action of someone that was asleep.


    So now it was time to wake up.


    ¡°Miss Claire.¡± He tapped her a little harder. ¡°Please wake up. Someone needs your help.¡±


    ¡°Do you think that¡¯s a good idea?¡± Jude muttered. ¡°She might still be healing.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s asleep,¡± Clinton replied.


    Jed was the only one who remained quiet, but he did make his own sounds, filing away at a short military knife. The sharp sound of file against metal slowly filled the air.


    Melmarc ignored them and tapped Claire harder. ¡°Miss Claire.¡±


    He felt movement from where Jude was. Luckily, he didn¡¯t have to worry about it because Nelson got to his feet.


    Jude groaned in annoyance. ¡°I think it¡¯s a bad idea. The kid¡¯s a healer, he might as well heal the dude. I don¡¯t see why he has to wake our healer up.¡±


    ¡°Because our healer has more experience,¡± Clinton said, placing a gentle hand on the spade still in Naymond¡¯s neck. His next words were muttered so low it might as well have been to himself. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to make it.¡±


    Melmarc waited silently, didn¡¯t even pat Claire for fear that he would miss the sound he was waiting for.


    Nothing came.


    He had never wanted to hear the word ¡®dissonant¡¯ in his head so badly than he did right now.


    ¡°I say we let the healer rest,¡± Jude said, adamant.


    Nelson rose to his full height now. When he moved, Melmarc noticed that he placed himself between him and Jude.


    ¡°Are you always an ass?¡± Nelson asked, his baritone deep with an unhidden threat. ¡°Is it like a trade mark? You have to be an ass.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Jude said. ¡°I¡¯m more of the voice of reason.¡±


    Melmarc could smell a growing chaos. He tapped Claire a little harder. Come on, get up. This is getting out of hand.


    A few weeks ago, things getting out of hand would¡¯ve been a very dreadful problem. Now, Melmarc was surprised to find that his mind only interpreted it as a discomfort.


    He stopped his hand before it patted Claire on the face again and looked at it. It wasn¡¯t trembling.


    What¡¯s happening to me?


    Things were threatening to become chaotic and he wasn¡¯t even scared. Experienced Delvers may or may not be about to fight right now.


    Claire¡¯s eyelids fluttered. They didn¡¯t open but it looked like they were trying to open. Melmarc hurried to help, tapping her on the face again.


    ¡°I was paid to close a portal and get a kid out,¡± Jude said, his voice matching the threat in Nelson¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯m not going to have my Healer be deprived of getting in top shape just to save a man at death¡¯s door.¡±


    Nelson took a single step towards Jude. ¡°You aren¡¯t the one calling the shots.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t work for you.¡±


    Claire¡¯s eyes blinked open and Melmarc sighed in relief. He glanced back, wanting to announce that she was awake and paused.


    Jude looked like he was preparing to square up against Nelson. His hand was inches away from his side arm.


    What Melmarc found funny, however, wasn¡¯t the fact that grown men, professional Delvers, were about to get into a fight over something silly, it was the fact that he didn¡¯t feel slightly threatened by it.


    You¡¯ve faced terrible things.


    There was that. But Melmarc suspected that it wasn¡¯t all there was to it. If he was being honest, maybe he was suffering the arrogance of rank. Jude was a C-rank after all.


    He also had [Knowledge is Power] to give him some level of safety for a time long enough to survive any immediate chaos.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if it was confidence or arrogance he was getting drawn into.


    ¡°Your friend isn¡¯t doing so well.¡± Claire¡¯s voice was soft, feminine. She sounded like she sang amazing soprano in the choir.


    Melmarc kept his eyes on Jude. ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t someone be helping him?¡±


    ¡°Someone should.¡± Melmarc finally looked at her. ¡°But you¡¯re the only healer.¡±


    Brown.


    It was the first thing he noticed. Claire had very light brown eyes like the one he often saw on the internet taken under the right amount of lighting. They were interesting eyes, he thought.


    ¡°Can you stand?¡± he asked Claire after a moment.


    The response he got was a nod, then she raised her hand to meet him. ¡°Help me up.¡±


    Taking her hand in his, Melmarc got up and pulled her with him. She was lighter than when he¡¯d been carrying her. The moment they were both standing, she took a tentative step back.


    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s a lot,¡± she muttered. ¡°I thought Nelson was the one that was carrying me, but I¡¯m beginning to think it could¡¯ve been you.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think confirming anything was necessary, after all, she hadn¡¯t really even asked a question.


    ¡°You¡¯re one tall kid,¡± she said, head tilted back so that she could meet his eyes.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t mind it. Mostly, when he and Ark met someone new, his height was overshadowed by Ark¡¯s. So people were always more enamored by Ark¡¯ height to take note of Melmarc¡¯s.


    Also, people weren¡¯t always so quick to point out their heights. They were usually more polite than that.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡±


    Melmarc turned as Claire moved her eyes to the owner of the voice. Clinton remained squatted next to Naymond.


    Claire gave him a smile. ¡°Just needed a good sleep.¡± Then she turned her attention to another part of the room. ¡°I see they still can¡¯t meet eye to eye.¡±


    Clinton chuckled lightly. ¡°That would be the day.¡±


    Nelson and Jude weren¡¯t so eager to go at each others throats anymore. Their animosity was still there, brimming in the air like two wild animals waiting for the other to strike. Melmarc gave it the littlest attention. But even the littlest attention was attention.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Jude, he thought, was going to be a problem. He was very certain of it. And problems within a portal like this needed to be taken care of. Nipped in the bud.


    The certainty of his decision stunned him for a moment, so much so that he had to give himself a harsh reminder.


    You kill [Damned] not people.


    It didn¡¯t make sense that killing bloodless monsters had somehow numbed him to the concept of death. Even those who killed animals for one reason or the other, didn¡¯t go around looking at other people as nothing but sacks of blood, right?


    This thought wasn¡¯t as certain.


    I¡¯m not killing anybody, he told himself while Claire stood beside him, arms folded over her chest.


    Besides, how was he going to kill a professional Delver? A Contractor, at that. A man who fancied himself to be a mercenary.


    An answer came to him as easily as one plus one. By striking first and striking fast.


    With the rise of the thought, Melmarc felt his mind working through a plan. Like trying to write a test while caught up thinking about the cartoon you were going to watch when you got home, Melmarc found his mind working two jobs.


    ¡°Can the both of you stop bickering, please,¡± Claire said, voice sharp enough to cut through the tension in the air. ¡°You¡¯re scaring the kid.¡±


    Delayed by a touch of hesitation, it took a moment before Nelson and Jude turned to look at her. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what it said that she was their focus and not him. Then again, there was a popular saying that you didn¡¯t piss of your Healer in a Delving party.


    He supposed it had good reason.


    Jed raised his head from his knife. ¡°The kid doesn¡¯t look scared, though.¡±


    There was no surprise there. Melmarc didn¡¯t feel scared so it only stood to reason that he wouldn¡¯t look scared.


    ¡°Yea,¡± Jude agreed. ¡°Not even a single bit.¡±


    ¡°Claire,¡± Clinton said, ignoring everyone else. ¡°If you¡¯d be kind enough as to come and help our dying friend over here, it would be appreciated.¡±


    Claire looked down at herself first, engaging in the task of ignoring others before touching a hand to her neck. Her expression dimmed a little. It was the way an expression dimmed when caught between confusion and an inability to make sense of something.


    She looked like she had something to say. But she said nothing. Instead, she walked over to Clinton and bent next to him.


    She groaned at the sight of Naymond illuminated by the bright lights from the glowsticks. ¡°He looks like he got the short end of the portal.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a [Sage].¡± Clinton placed a hand on Naymond¡¯s neck, checked his pulse. ¡°He had no business being in a portal without a party. I¡¯m guessing during the time it took for the kid to find us, he got himself into a bit of a mess.¡±


    Claire leaned in, sniffed at the air around Naymond. She touched an injury in his thigh, checked it. Making sure she didn¡¯t touch the [Damned] still attached to Naymond by the shovel in his neck, she stepped over him. On his other side, she stuck two fingers in a deep cut in his side.


    Naymond let out a whisper of a pained groan. It was a good thing.


    Sometimes people, depending on their path in life, viewed things differently from others. In this moment, Melmarc witnessed the difference between how a Delver looked at a dying man and how a Healer looked at a dying man.


    ¡°There¡¯s a mistake somewhere.¡± Claire opened one of Naymond¡¯s eyes. ¡°These injuries were accumulated over time.¡±


    ¡°Are you certain?¡± Clinton asked.


    Jed had been leaning against the wall where he¡¯d been sharpening his knife. Now he was not. He remained at the wall, but did nothing to put himself in a relaxed position.


    Claire nodded. ¡°I¡¯m certain of it. It¡¯s hard to tell since I¡¯m not seeing any signs of aging but some of these did not happen within the last twenty-four hours.¡±


    Naymond¡¯s lips moved gently. From where Melmarc was standing, Naymond looked like he wanted to say something. Struggled with it. Lips moved again, barely shaping themselves before failing again.


    ¡°We need to heal him,¡± Clinton said.


    Claire nodded and raised her hand to Naymond¡¯s lips. ¡°Injuries this bad might take a lot out of me. It¡¯s a lot. And life threatening. I¡¯m surprised he¡¯s still alive.¡±


    ¡°What of the shovel?¡± Clinton asked, reaching for it.


    She waved him down. ¡°Leave it. His body will push it out as he heals.¡±


    Jude took a step to his side. ¡°You think that¡¯s a good idea?¡±


    On a normal day, what he was doing would¡¯ve gone past Melmarc. But this wasn¡¯t a normal day. The past few days hadn¡¯t been normal days in any way. And his time in the portal had taught Melmarc to always have an exit.


    So he knew when his exit was blocked.


    In the room, there was only one other exit left. The window behind Naymond. The one he had used to leave the room to find the Delvers. To go through it, however, was to cause discomfort to Naymond and the Healer.


    ¡°You said the injuries are old, right?¡± Jude asked.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes cut to him. There was something in his voice, something Melmarc had a hard time placing. It was like an underlying effect, there but hidden beneath a lot of falsehood, like a food you had to think and pay attention to in order to find the taste.


    ¡°Not necessarily old,¡± Claire answered, her hand still against Naymond¡¯s lips.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t tell if she had activated [Vitality of the Drunk] yet. If she hadn¡¯t, then it was because of what Jude was saying.


    Nelson¡¯s eyes moved to Jude. The action was slow, purposeful. Questioning, even.


    ¡°What are you thinking, Contractor?¡± he asked, voice effectively calm.


    Dissonant. The word lit up in Melmarc¡¯s mind.


    It meant one thing; it was time to pay attention.


    ¡°Skinny,¡± Jude said.


    Melmarc had no idea what the word meant in the current context. Since entering the portal, Melmarc was sure that he and Naymond hadn¡¯t tasted a drop of food, unless Naymond had been eating the critters. And they were fine.


    He didn¡¯t think he had lost any weight. Even his clothes still remained relatively clean. Their only blemish was his shoe that was worn out from being used a little too much, the dirt and grime on his clothes from moving around a lot, on the ground, against the wall, clashing into [Damned]. But they didn¡¯t feel old or stretched. The only real problem was the torn front of his top that revealed his chest where there had once been an everlasting purpling bruise.


    Naymond was not skinny, and neither was he.


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make much sense,¡± Jed pointed out.


    Again, Melmarc¡¯s mind graced him with a single word.


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc was missing something. Not something in the room, though. He was fairly certain his mind was putting what was going on in the room together well enough. A little more time and conversations between the Delvers would likely lead him to be sure of what was happening.


    What he was missing was in the effect of his thought. Dissonant probably doesn¡¯t just mean lies, right?


    ¡°It makes plenty sense,¡± Jude was saying. ¡°There¡¯s a healer here¡­ Long term.¡±


    His voice was still off, his expression strained as if he was annoyed at himself. It clicked for Melmarc then.


    Right now, Jude wasn¡¯t being rude or mean. He was being suspicious. Maybe it was a good thing an actual team with working experience hadn¡¯t been sent to help him. Just the thought of being a stranger caught between him, Delano, and Eroms while they were trying to communicate without letting him know gave Melmarc a headache.


    I¡¯d be as lost as a sixteen-year-old in a portal.


    But these people didn¡¯t know each other well enough. They had no inside jokes or shared experiences. All they had to go with was common knowledge only Delvers would have. Which meant that ¡®skinny¡¯ was a Delver term that had nothing to do with body size.


    Jude is suspicious of me.


    Melmarc¡¯s gaze moved back to Jude and Jude met it. Melmarc couldn¡¯t read an expression on the man¡¯s face. But he was sure the man was reading the expression on his face.


    ¡°Can¡¯t be,¡± Nelson said. He looked back at Clinton. ¡°Right?¡±


    Clinton said nothing.


    Naymond made a sound, barely audible. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if he was still struggling or if the sound was muffled because of Claire¡¯s hand over his mouth.


    ¡°I say skinny.¡± Jude kept his eyes fixed on Melmarc. Within them was intent.


    Something was about to happen.


    A few moments ago when Jude and Nelson had been about to go at it, Melmarc hadn¡¯t been worried because Jude was only one man. Now, if something did happen, it would be him against a handful of Delvers.


    Nothing he¡¯d been through in this portal would save him. And even if he thought he could survive because of the rank disparity, Clinton was a B-rank Delver. Melmarc couldn¡¯t delude himself into victory.


    ¡°Calm down, Jude,¡± Clinton said. ¡°Let¡¯s not do anything stupid.¡±


    ¡°Stupid?¡± Jude scoffed. ¡°We¡¯ve already done something stupid.¡±


    ¡°And what if you¡¯re wrong?¡± This from Jed. ¡°It would be extremely costly. You know how sensitive this mission is.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly why.¡±


    Jed shook his head in dismay. ¡°Jude, don¡¯t be stupid.¡±


    Melmarc watched decisions war behind Jude¡¯s eyes. The man was warring with himself even though he didn¡¯t look particular bothered by it.


    The look in his eyes settled, and Melmarc knew he had made a decision.


    Jude pulled his side arm in one quick motion and Melmarc had a gun pointed directly at his face. His hands shot up reflexively.


    Too many movies growing up as a child had affected him here. When a gun was pointed at you, you raised your hands high in the air to show that you weren¡¯t a threat. As intelligent as that sounded, the reason wasn¡¯t factored into Melmarc¡¯s action. His hands had simply shot up because his body had reacted that way.


    What it had done was taken the one chance he had at moving first.


    And you thought you were ready for anything, he thought, oddly not panicked. Surviving in a portal has given you a lot of hubris.


    ¡°Put your fucking gun down, Jude!¡± Clinton hissed. ¡°The kid can¡¯t be a Walker!¡±


    A Walker? A Skin Walker?


    Was that what Jude had meant by ¡®skinny¡¯? The man thought he was a Skin Walker? One of the registered monsters found mostly in B-rank portals and above that burrowed into corpses and controlled them.


    That was insane. They only showed up in B-rank portals and this was a C-rank portal.


    ¡°He¡¯s right, Jude,¡± Nelson said, doing nothing to come between Melmarc and the gun. ¡°He can¡¯t be a Walker.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc sighed internally. At least the big guy was trying something.


    ¡°Because this is a C-rank portal?¡± Jude asked in disbelief. ¡°What¡¯s the first thing you always learn before entering a portal? Never assume you know what¡¯s on the other side.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t give you the justification to point a gun at a child.¡± Jed¡¯s words were a little too calm. Unbothered.


    Jude frowned, thought about it.


    ¡°Alright, you have a point. How about this?¡± He moved his hand so that the gun was trained on Melmarc¡¯s thigh. ¡°We have a Healer after all. And he¡¯s a healer, too. A Healer that doesn¡¯t fight like a Healer.¡±


    Was that the basis of his conclusion? Melmarc thought. Was he paranoid simply because Melmarc hadn¡¯t corrected them when they thought he was a Healer?


    If they thought he was a Healer and he¡¯d brought them to Naymond who had injuries spanning more than a day, then he could see why Jude was suspicious. But it was quite a leap to jump straight to him being a Skin Walker.


    ¡°May I say something?¡± he said cautiously.


    ¡°I would rather you not,¡± Jude replied.


    ¡°You may,¡± Clinton said. ¡°You¡¯ve got a gun trained on the kid and you¡¯ve got your skills, too. Let the kid talk.¡±


    When no one objected, and Jude said nothing, Melmarc took it as a collective agreement.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a Healer,¡± he said.


    Jude scoffed. ¡°Lies now? Only Healers have healing skills.¡±


    ¡°Mages have healing skills, too,¡± Jed pointed out.


    ¡°But theirs tends to be flashy,¡± Nelson mused. ¡°Lights and colors and symbols. And not all of them can heal.¡±


    ¡°So do we have an agreement?¡± Jude was looking eager now. ¡°Now it¡¯s trying to lie its way out of this.¡±


    ¡°Curious question,¡± Jed said. ¡°What happens if you¡¯re wrong? How do you intend to make up for it?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Jude paused, frowned. ¡°If I am, I¡¯ll find a way to make up for it. Compensations, damages. An apology. Anything. But I¡¯m not.¡±


    Melmarc was flabbergasted. Was the man stupid?


    If he was wrong, then it meant he was pointing a gun at a defenseless boy. If he was not mistaken, it also meant that he would be shooting a defenseless boy. And the man¡¯s idea of making up for it was compensations or damages or an apology?


    Take his leg. His left leg.


    The thought surprised Melmarc. More surprising was the fact that instead of dwelling on the violent tendency that begged him to take a man¡¯s leg, he was more focused on a different question. Why the left leg?


    The answer came easily. It was because Jude had his gun trained on Melmarc¡¯s left thigh. It sounded like a fair enough exchange.


    God what am I even thinking?


    Next thing, he¡¯ll be thinking about¡ª


    Take his eye. His right eye.


    What the hell?


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t stop himself from looking at Jude¡¯s right eye. While both of the man¡¯s eyes were open, it felt like the right eye was his aiming eye.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen a kid that¡¯s so calm in front of a gun,¡± Jude pointed out.


    ¡°I swear to God, Jude, if you don¡¯t put that gun down¡­¡± Clinton let his warning trail off. He allowed everyone imagine what possible punishment could come from him being disobeyed.


    ¡°I¡¯m a Faker,¡± Melmarc found himself saying. ¡°I copied Miss Claire¡¯s skill, that''s how I healed her.¡±


    ¡°Can anyone confirm this?¡± Jed asked.


    Each Delver looked between each other. The looks on their faces confirmed that no one could confirm it. If they had been sent to get Melmarc, they had definitely not been told what class he had.


    And why would they?


    There was no confirmed shapeshifter amongst any of the monsters ever found in C-rank portals. No one would¡¯ve expected any of the Delvers to get paranoid and do this.


    Take his right ar¡ª


    I¡¯ll break his rib.


    The decision was sharp, immediate. And it was Melmarc''s. It was his, judged as a fitting punishment.


    Jude¡¯s eyes narrowed and Melmarc figured that just as the Delver¡¯s decision on what to do had shown behind his eyes, maybe the Delver had also seen his.


    It meant one thing. Regardless of whatever the others were saying, something was gong to go down.


    It was inevitable.


    All that mattered now was who struck first.


    ¡°We can have him copy someone¡¯s skill to prove it,¡± Claire suggested.


    ¡°No,¡± Jude said quickly with the added emphasis of taking a step back. ¡°Give it a chance and who knows what it will do.¡±


    ¡°Is my friend going to be alright?¡± Melmarc found himself asking.


    It would be stupid if this entire thing was keeping Naymond from being healed.


    ¡°He¡¯s actually getting better,¡± Claire said. ¡°I started healing him long ago but it would take sometime.¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have done that,¡± Jude groaned. ¡°That¡¯s the problem with you company Delvers, too optimistic. Fix now and figure it out la¡ª¡±


    Melmarc moved.


    He wasn¡¯t going to fight fair against a trained Delver, he didn¡¯t care the Delver¡¯s rank. Jude, however, showed his experience. His aim shifted accordingly and the air exploded with the sound of a gunshot.


    [You have activated Knowledge is Power]


    Melmarc felt the pain as the bullet struck him in the thigh and pinged off in some direction where it would eventually die from the absence of enough momentum.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect].


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Melmarc rushed forward. He¡¯d weaved to the side on the first shot, but the fact that Jude¡¯s shot had still struck through meant that the Delver was a better marksman than Melmarc had anticipated.


    He could keep darting from side to side but that would be a waste of time and strength. There was also the chance that all the shots would still land. Face with that truth, Melmarc chose a different route.


    Hunkering down into a boxer¡¯s stance, he kept his head protected with raised hands. He trusted [Knowledge is Power] enough that a gunshot to the eye would only cause him pain, but he didn¡¯t trust himself enough to not blink if it happened. And blinking would be a moment when he could see nothing.


    A moment like that would be devastating.


    ¡°Disarm him!¡± Clinton barked.


    Melmarc assumed he was referring to Jude but couldn¡¯t be sure. Two more bullets pinged off his arms, pain filled his mind but didn¡¯t consume him. It was instantaneous, gone as quickly as it came.


    ¡°Fucking Skin Walker,¡± Jude swore under his breath.


    When another gunshot didn¡¯t come, Melmarc knew the man had switched tactics. So he brought his arms down and focused on something else. Clearly, Jude had deemed using a gun to be a waste of ammunition.


    In front of Melmarc, Jude had put his gun away and had both hands held out in front of him. Melmarc didn¡¯t wait to see what would happen.


    He moved his hand and his interfaced appeared in front of him.


    [You have used skill Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 1/2]


    The notification was succeeded by an extra weight in Melmarc¡¯s hand. With the appearance of the ring of light came a slight disorientation. Behind Jude, the returning wave of mana from [Knowledge is Power] distorted slightly but did not die.


    Melmarc ignored it as he focused and slammed the ring of mana into the ground with all the strength he could muster.


    It struck the ground, shattered like broken glass, and exploded to consume almost the entire room. Its reach didn¡¯t matter because Melmarc knew that Jude was caught up in it.


    Jude¡¯s lips squeezed in a frown of confusion before his eyes focused on his hands held out in front of him. Clearly he was confused as to why whatever skill he¡¯d wanted to use did not activate. Then his eyes widened at the air in front of him.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t care to wonder if it was his interface telling him something. The wave of mana was already returning to him.


    It passed through Jude and the man stiffened for a fraction of a second. Melmarc was already on him.


    An indicator appeared above Jude¡¯s head. Melmarc ignored it and drove his foot into the man¡¯s chest with all the strength his Gifted body could muster.


    His foot struck Jude in the chest and the Delver shot out of the room like a fired cannon. He went through the door tumbled once before slamming into a wall. The impact was loud when he struck the wall.


    Then the wave of mana returned to Melmarc.


    [Skill Knowledge is Power is concluded]


    [Skill Bless Your Kindness does not take effect]


    Melmarc dismissed the notification. It seemed that [Knowledge is Power] worked properly in the presence of [Secrecy] but [Bless Your Kindness] would not activate on its own.


    It didn¡¯t matter.


    Around him, the remaining Delvers stood quietly. He wasn¡¯t sure if they were stunned to silence. There was a very likely probability that he¡¯d just worsened things for himself with what he¡¯d done, but right now, even that did not matter.


    A good distance in front of Melmarc, slumped against a wall outside the room, Jude was unconscious with a red indicator above his head.


    With a single-minded focus, Melmarc headed for the door.


    He had a rib to break.

 SIXTY-FOUR: The Mediator

    Nelson was the first to move.


    He took a few steps and interjected himself between Melmarc and the empty doorway Jude had been sent flying out of. Even with his large frame technically blocking the entire entrance, the Delver still held his arms out on both sides.


    Melmarc paused. There was a part of his brain that wondered why the man had chosen to interfere. Did he not understand that all actions deserved their equal reactions? Jude clearly needed to be punished. Also, if the man had been planning on intimidating him by bringing his arms up and making himself look larger, that was a plan that would fail. Melmarc had been around large people all his life.


    His dad remained the largest man he knew. Eroms was a close second.


    ¡°Stop,¡± Nelson told him.


    It was a simple word. A soft word. There was no command in it, only understanding and reasoning. He didn¡¯t want Melmarc to do whatever he intended to do.


    Melmarc found it a little sad that it would not be enough to stop him. There were things in the world that were inevitable. The sun always shined. Night always came.


    I will break a rib.


    The line of thought was enough to make Melmarc pause. Why did he so badly have to break a rib? So that he didn¡¯t take a leg? Or an arm? Or an eye?


    Did he really need to punish Jude any further?


    He¡¯d already won, after all.


    And against a Delver.


    What else did he need? But as reasonable as the question was, so was the answer. He had found victory in a fight against Jude. And that was victory in a fight, no matter the consequences Jude had suffered from it. What he needed to do was punish Jude for the crime of pointing a gun at him, accusing him, starting the fight, and shooting him.


    Every crime deserved a punishment of equal value.


    Around them, the others continued to stare. Jed held his knife in a firm grip, a prepared grip. The Gifted had been more than ready to act if he¡¯d needed to. Whether it was in Melmarc¡¯s favor or not was a completely different conversation. One Melmarc did not want to have.


    Behind Melmarc, Clinton and Claire were quiet, watchful. Claire¡¯s jaw hung open while Clinton simple stared at the back of Melmarc¡¯s head. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what exactly the expression on the man¡¯s face was. Fear? Worry?


    For who? For what?


    Was the man worried about the situation and how quickly it had left him; slipped from his control? Or was he worried by the fact that a Contractor had been bested?


    Did it matter?


    The answer was yes. In this moment, what Nelson wanted was slightly important but majorly unimportant. What Claire wanted was only as important as the commodity of her healing skill. Jed had interacted too little for the importance of his words to be accurately scaled in the moment.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this, Marc,¡± Nelson said. He looked behind him, checked on Jude, then turned back to Melmarc. ¡°He¡¯s down. As surprising as it is to say, you won.¡±


    That was a very unnecessary piece of information. Melmarc¡¯s victory was unarguable so he didn¡¯t need someone to tell him.


    What he needed was for Nelson to step aside. By virtue of Clinton¡¯s position as commander of the group, Melmarc found that he was willing to negotiate Jude¡¯s punishment. He would compromise if Clinton offered an acceptable punishment as an alternative.


    For the second time since Nelson had come to block his path, Melmarc paused. A second ago he had been so adamant on breaking Jude¡¯s rib. Now he was accepting the possibility of compromising and not breaking his rib. But only if Clinton was the one who made the request that he not.


    The switch up was surreal. It was as if Jude undoubtedly needed to be punished but it did not have to be by Melmarc.


    Someone else can punish him?


    Then why had he had to go through the entire process of convincing himself on a fitting punishment? And was the alternative Clinton?


    Was it because the man was the designated leader of the group?


    What¡¯s this, a prisoner exchange?


    It felt like he was a teacher in school about to punish a student but would only compromise if the parent gave an acceptable alternative punishment. Not the brother or the sister or the aunty or the uncle or the friend.


    It had to be the parent. The legal guardian, at the least.


    Melmarc took a step forward. What the hell is happening to me?


    In front of him, Nelson¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Stand down, kid.¡±


    And what if he didn¡¯t, Melmarc thought. He¡¯d taken Jude and won. Maybe he couldn¡¯t take all the Delvers in the room, but he might be able to take Nelson. If he took the big guy by surprise, maybe he could¡ª


    Dissonant.


    The word pierced a massive hole in Melmarc¡¯s thought process. But the fact that there was a hole in it didn¡¯t mean it stopped. Instead, it realigned itself, sought out an alternative approach that would grant him the same outcome.


    It¡¯s like a game of chess.


    Which was funny since he¡¯d only played a handful of chess games and had watched a handful of matches before gaining his class. He¡¯d touched nothing of chess ever since getting the class, though. And chess hadn¡¯t factored into any of his skills. In fact, there was no skill of his that required much in the way of brain power.


    He was smart, but he wasn¡¯t this calculating.


    ¡°Move,¡± he found himself telling Nelson.


    Nelson shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ll have to control your anger, Marc. I know you¡¯re angry but you can¡¯t let your emotions make you do something you¡¯ll regret.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t angry. And why had Nelson used his name? Since stepping in front of him, he¡¯d been calling him ¡®kid.¡¯


    Melmarc remembered reading in a book somewhere, sometime, that people tended to react amiably when they were addressed by their name instead of something generic.


    Was it really true? It was an important question because right now it did nothing for him. But Nelson had been a Delver for a long time, maybe it actually did work.


    ¡°I think you¡¯re wrong on this one.¡±


    Melmarc heard Jed¡¯s voice, loud and clear, but he didn¡¯t turn to look at the man. ¡°Wrong?¡±


    ¡°Not you,¡± Jed said. ¡°I¡¯m talking to you, Nelson. Look at his face, the kid doesn¡¯t look angry. If anything, I think he knows exactly what he wants to do. I think he¡¯s already made up his mind on doing it.¡±


    Nelson dropped his arms. His eyes focused on Melmarc. He stared at him through narrowed lids, watching, assessing.


    ¡°What do you plan on doing, Marc?¡± he said after a while.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t see any reason to hide his intentions. ¡°I¡¯m going to break a rib.¡±


    Jed chuckled, but only after a surprised pause.


    ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± Clinton said from behind Melmarc.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Melmarc didn¡¯t turn to answer him. He had a feeling Nelson would take advantage of that. It was what he would do.


    ¡°You just can¡¯t,¡± Clinton said. ¡°It¡¯s wrong.¡±


    ¡°PTSD?¡± Jed muttered to himself. ¡°Or some kind of reaction to a highly stressful situation?¡±


    ¡°The latter,¡± Melmarc said. To Clinton, he added, without looking back, ¡°And it¡¯s not wrong. He committed a crime, he¡¯s about to be punished for it.¡±


    ¡°You sent him into a wall.¡± Clinton got up from where he was. ¡°Isn¡¯t that punishment enough?¡±


    Melmarc disagreed. ¡°That was him losing. That was not him being punished.¡±


    Nelson let out a resigned sigh. ¡°He was probably wrong, and you probably aren¡¯t a Skin Walker, seeing as you helped us. But we cannot allow you do what you want to do.¡±


    But they had allowed Jude do what he wanted to do. There had been some circumstances surrounding it, but they¡¯d allowed him. It seemed that negotiations had broken down. As far as Melmarc was concerned, no suitable punishment would be offered as an alternative, at least not in good faith. Now he had to find another way.


    Nelson met Melmarc¡¯s gaze and his eyes held an apology in them. ¡°Sorry, kiddo.¡±


    He stepped forward. Melmarc took a step back in response, hands already going up to defend himself. When Nelson¡¯s foot hit the ground on his first step, his legs buckled beneath him. He fell to his knees and simply remained there. In his head, his eyes stared at nothing from their sockets.


    Jed took two hurried steps back, increased the distance between them as if he wasn¡¯t already far enough.


    Clinton did the same. ¡°What did you do?¡±


    He drew his gun and aimed it straight at the back of Melmarc¡¯s leg.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t him,¡± a raspy voice said from behind them, right at the window. ¡°That was me.¡±


    Melmarc recognized Naymond¡¯s voice immediately. Relief washed through him, his first real emotion in a while, and he was glad for it.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± he said, his relief touching his voice as he turned around.


    It was funny how he kept Jed in his periphery, kept the man under watch. The portal had taught him to always keep any [Damned] present within eyesight no matter what. They were jerky and slow but were more than capable of moving with unpredictable speed and suddenness.


    Did he consider the Delvers as enemies now?


    In his defense, Jude had shot him and Nelson had just tried to attack him to protect him from taking his punishment. The tanker had a reason for attacking him, but so did every enemy.


    Melmarc took a step towards Naymond. Jed eased out of his periphery by half a step. It brought Melmarc to a halt. Moving to Naymond would leave him open for an attack from Jed. He didn¡¯t think Jed would attack him, but it wasn¡¯t a ruled out possibility.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± Naymond said, talking to Melmarc and ignoring Clinton for a moment. ¡°I won¡¯t let him do anything.¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Melmarc hesitated for only a moment before going to Naymond. His brain had picked nothing dissonant in the words Naymond had spoken.


    In moments, Melmarc was kneeling beside Naymond.


    ¡°My God, you¡¯re tall,¡± Naymond muttered, as if to himself. ¡°Miss me?¡±


    Melmarc had no answer to that. He¡¯d been worried for Naymond¡¯s life, but he hadn¡¯t really missed the man. And while he was relieved that he was alive, he still had a rib to break.


    Clinton looked at them, before focusing on Naymond. ¡°And you are?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Naymond Hitchcock at your service.¡± Naymond was less bloody now, and the spade that had been lodged in his neck was gone. He was still bloody, though. ¡°Well, I¡¯m more at the kid¡¯s service. But you know what I mean. I believe you¡¯re here to save us.¡±


    ¡°And clear the portal,¡± Clinton said. ¡°Now, I repeat, what did you do to my man?¡±


    He still had his gun in his hand.


    ¡°I gave him something called a deterrence.¡± Naymond winked at Melmarc. ¡°Personally, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m a fan of a Gifted attacking a kid with a skill.¡±


    ¡°The kid has proven himself to be powerful,¡± Clinton pointed out.


    Naymond¡¯s hand moved to his face, and he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. ¡°I don¡¯t know if to be impressed by the fact that a kid has proved himself powerful to a group of Delvers, or to be terrified by the fact that a kid that¡¯s supposed to be saved by said Delvers had to prove himself powerful to them.¡±


    ¡°Jude panicked,¡± Clinton said. ¡°He wasn¡¯t without rea¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Naymond barked in derision, silencing Clinton. ¡°Without reason? Damned fool almost sealed our deaths in gold. A Skin Walker? Who fears a Skin Walker in a C-rank portal? Are you lot stupid?¡±


    Clinton holstered his gun, which was funny, considering Naymond was anything but nice right now.


    ¡°Portals are unpredictable,¡± Clinton pointed out. ¡°Anything can happen in a portal.¡±


    Naymond snorted in condescension. ¡°That¡¯s a stupid excuse. By that logic I should be scared to meet God behind a portal.¡±


    Melmarc remembered when he¡¯d speculated on that specific possibility once. It had been a little bit over a month ago, not long before he¡¯d gotten his class.


    It felt like a lifetime ago.


    Naymond shook his head and moved to get up. Claire placed a hand flat against his chest.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be getting up, Naymond,¡± she said. ¡°You aren¡¯t fully healed.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Naymond said. ¡°And wrong. But not necessarily in that order. Mr. Lockwood, be a dear and tell the Healer that I know all there is to know about my body and she should feel free to allow me stand.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know how much truth was in Naymond¡¯s words. For one thing, the [Sage] did understand his body very well, that much Melmarc believed. But him being ready to stand was a different conversation entirely.


    He looked at Naymond and the [Sage] groaned.


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Naymond leaned back down, but he returned his attention to Clinton. ¡°Let¡¯s forget all about what¡¯s already happened and focus on what¡¯s important.¡±


    Breaking Jude¡¯s rib was what was important. Forgetting about that was not something Melmarc was willing to do.


    ¡°The portal,¡± Clinton said.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Naymond disagreed. ¡°Breaking your teammates rib.¡±


    Clinton paused. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Melmarc paused, too. Clinton had taken the words right out of his mouth.


    ¡°I heard Mr. Lockwood here say that was what he wanted to do,¡± Naymond said. ¡°And it is important. Punishment should always be given after one has made a severe mistake.¡±


    Clinton shook his head. ¡°Breaking his rib is too much.¡±


    ¡°And you were given the chance for an alternative, a position to negotiate the punishment.¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°You didn¡¯t take it. Instead, you wanted to give commands.¡±


    ¡°No offense to Mr. Lockwood, but he¡¯s still a kid. He doesn¡¯t know the level of importance things hold in a portal. Scaling them properly and in levels of priority can be tricky. Sometimes you have to work with people you don¡¯t like to survive.¡±


    Dissonant.


    This was annoying. Right now, Melmarc didn¡¯t know what was dissonant. Was it the part where the man didn¡¯t mean offense or was it one of the other things he¡¯d said.


    ¡°So you simply told him what to do and expected that he should do it? Without explanation?¡± Naymond shook his head like a teacher disappointed in a student.


    You kind of do that all the time, though, Melmarc thought, but wasn¡¯t going to point it out.


    ¡°So you¡¯ll come into the portal,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°Assume leadership because it was given to you outside the portal, and expect the boy to fall in line. Because what? He¡¯s young? He¡¯s not a Delver?¡±


    Beside him, Claire was silent. She had a finger on his wrist, checking his pulse. Meanwhile her eyes paid attention to his face. Melmarc couldn¡¯t begin to come up with a reason for that. His best guess was that she was using a skill she had to do something that was likely medical related.


    ¡°Mr. Lockwood is not experienced for situations such as this,¡± Clinton said. ¡°He¡¯s not a Delver.¡±


    Naymond snorted derisorily. ¡°He¡¯s been in this place twelve days more than you. Trust me, in this situation he¡¯s more experienced than you are.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc¡¯s head snapped to Naymond. Well, that was something. Naymond definitely did not agree with what he had just said and yet he had said it. Was it for the purpose of the argument or was there a plan he was beginning to set into motion.


    Naymond sighed in tired frustration. ¡°Just let the kid do what he wants. Your Healer over here can always heal your foolish teammate when he¡¯s done.¡± He looked at Melmarc. ¡°Will that suffice?¡±


    He¡¯s negotiating, Melmarc realized.


    But did he have the authority to negotiate in this situation? The answer was yes. Because he wasn¡¯t negotiating, he was mediating, helping both parties come to an agreement.


    ¡°After twelve hours,¡± Melmarc answered.


    What the hell is happening to me?


    What had [Optimum Existence] done to him?


    Clinton, for his own part, looked at Melmarc in confusion. ¡°You expect us to rest for twelve hours?¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t,¡± Naymond said before Melmarc could say anything. ¡°He expects us to start moving once I¡¯m at a hundred percent.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc frowned at that. What was dissonant. Naymond had been right and wrong to a certain extent. Melmarc did not expect them to wait for twelve hours. He was completely of the opinion that Jude would continue the path of finishing the quest and clearing the portal with his broken rib.


    He was in complete agreement with Naymond on that point. So what was dissonant?


    The conversation answered it for him. Dissonant didn¡¯t mean a lie. He doubted it even meant that something was inaccurate. Maybe it¡¯s based on the person talking.


    Maybe the way it worked was by picking out the existing difference between what somebody said and what they meant, or what they said and what they believed. Dissonant didn¡¯t necessarily mean a lie. It meant a disagreement, a lack of harmony.


    He only noted dissonance in Naymond¡¯s words because Naymond doubted them to a certain degree.


    ¡°Jude cannot be of help if he¡¯s not completely healed,¡± Clinton argued. ¡°A broken rib is not something that can be ignored. There are a lot of complications that come with it.¡± He looked from Naymond to Melmarc and back, incredulous. ¡°He could die.¡±


    Naymond raised an opinionated finger with a mischievous smile. ¡°The key word there being ¡®could.¡¯ Mr. Lockwood over here could have died a few moments ago. You¡¯re all Delvers and so you¡¯ve quite easily diminished the gravity of the situation because you¡¯re already standing the risk of dying in certain situations.¡±


    ¡°Everybody dies,¡± Jed muttered.


    ¡°True,¡± Naymond agreed. ¡°But while that is a normal and healthy mindset for a Delver, as you¡¯ve so happily pointed out, a Delver, Mr. Lockwood is not. And to top it off, he¡¯s not even an adult. The people he thought were here to save him almost killed him. And now you¡¯re refusing to punish the person that put him through the traumatic experience of almost dying. How do you expect him to trust you?¡±


    Wow.


    For all his dissonance and new way of thinking, Melmarc hadn¡¯t even gone that far in his thought process. He wanted to break a rib because that was a fitting punishment for Jude. All the other things Naymond had tacked onto it weren¡¯t wrong but Melmarc hadn¡¯t even considered any of that.


    He¡¯d just been very focused on the fact that Jude had to be punished and everyone was standing in his way.


    A soft moan touched the room. Nelson put a hand to his head and leaned forward.


    ¡°I need to lie down,¡± he muttered in a deep baritone. He sounded like he had a terrible headache.


    He eased himself forward and carefully laid down on his stomach, turning his face to one side.


    Melmarc looked at Naymond. ¡°Is he going to be alright?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine,¡± Naymond dismissed his worry. ¡°Just a little disorientation, that¡¯s all. Now back to the matter at hand. Jude¡¯s punishment.¡±


    Clinton shook his head. ¡°This doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±


    ¡°Sense?¡± Naymond snorted. ¡°You may not know this but Mr. Lockwood showed a lot of restraint in handling the situation. He was in a position that could¡¯ve gotten him killed yet he did his best not to kill your teammate. Can you say a Delver would¡¯ve done such a thing in such a position?¡±


    Jed shook his head where he was standing. ¡°I think you¡¯re stretching it just to get the kid what he wants.¡±


    Naymond looked at him. ¡°Am I? Am I really? This portal is completely full of C-rank monsters and he has something that can kill them in one blow. Do you really think it wouldn¡¯t kill your C-rank friend in one blow?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s attention snapped to Naymond again. The man was a terrific negotiator. Melmarc had actually held back against Jude. It hadn¡¯t completely been a plan, though. When [Secrecy] had disabled Jude, for only a moment he had considered using [Rings of Saturn] to attack. Skills weren¡¯t supposed to work within the confines of [Secrecy] but since [Secrecy] was a bit of a subset of [Rings of Saturn] he¡¯d had a feeling [Rings of Saturn] might¡¯ve worked.


    The only thing that had left him with the decision of kicking Jude instead of hitting him with a blast of [Rings of Saturn] was less of if the skill would work and more of what he¡¯d seen the skill do to enough [Damned].


    He hadn¡¯t been ready to have the blood of another human being on his hands.


    ¡°Fakers don¡¯t have that kind of firepower,¡± Claire said.


    Naymond gave her one of his trademark smiles. ¡°The kid¡¯s an anomaly. Ever seen a [Faker] kick a grown man over ten feet?¡±


    Claire eyed Melmarc, eyes taking in his height.


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Naymond conceded. ¡°With a build like that, even I wouldn¡¯t want to be kicked by him. But he has the fire power. Trust me.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Clinton scratched the back of his head. ¡°It took over two bullets to put a significant dent in those things in the forest and I saw him crush one¡¯s head with his bare hand. He definitely has the firepower.¡± He sighed, then rubbed his forehead with thumb and forefinger. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m saying this, but¡­ you can break his rib.¡±


    Jed¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What the hell, Clinton.¡±


    ¡°You donated nothing during the entire conversation, Jed.¡± Clinton raised a cautionary finger at him. ¡°You don¡¯t get to complain about the outcome.¡± To Melmarc, he added: ¡°Just one rib. One. Do you know how to do that?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged and started making his way for the door. ¡°Yes. They taught us how to do it with one kick in self defense class.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound like any self defense class I know,¡± Jed muttered.


    ¡°I¡¯m with him on that one,¡± Naymond added as Melmarc stepped around Nelson¡¯s lying body. ¡°Those classes are more about keeping yourself safe in a fight and less about breaking ribs.¡±


    Outside the room, Melmarc stood over a still unconscious Jude. He wasn¡¯t sure if the man¡¯s unconsciousness was lucky. Chances were, the man wouldn¡¯t be happy to have his rib broken while he was awake.


    Melmarc took a step back and took a stance, readied for a kick. His self defense teacher had taught him that kicks carried better weights. And while he could do it with his hand, he stood a better chance of not getting injured if he did it with a kick.


    I¡¯m significantly stronger now, though, Melmarc thought, reconsidering his situation. Changing his mind, he moved and knelt down in front of Jude.


    He could feel the eyes watching him as he cocked his hand back for a straight punch. He aimed for the right side of the man¡¯s chest. Hopefully, the rib there wouldn¡¯t puncture anything too important when it broke. The heart was closer to the left side, after all.


    Then he threw a downward punch.


    Jude¡¯s lids twitched, and his eyes opened while the punch was midway through its journey. His eyes widened in shock and Melmarc¡¯s fist struck true.


    ¡°AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!¡±


    Melmarc felt the rib give under the force of his blow even as Jude¡¯s scream threatened to blow his eardrum. He did not panic or rush to escape. He did not hurry to put any space between them.


    Instead, he remained there, looked Jude in the eye and watched the man slip back into unconsciousness.


    For a mercenary, the man didn¡¯t seem to handle pain very well. But that didn¡¯t matter to Melmarc. What mattered to him was the overwhelming satisfaction that filled him. The calmness that came with successfully meting out punishment for a crime.


    I might need therapy after this.


    ¡­


    A few minutes earlier¡­


    Deoti looked around with a frown on her face. She had been in enough portals to know that something was terribly wrong with this one. For one, it smelled of blood.


    ¡°That¡¯s not good,¡± she heard Saxi mutter.


    She turned, looked up, expecting to see one of those creepy creatures that tended to turn up in portals. The team had learned long ago that it wasn¡¯t a good sign when those things showed up inside a portal. It was never a good sign.


    Surprisingly, she saw nothing to indicate that one would show up. So what wasn¡¯t good?


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked.


    Fendor nudged her with his shoulder. ¡°Look at your hand.¡±


    She looked at her palm.


    Fendor sighed. ¡°The other side, nitwit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bury you in the ground once we get out,¡± she said, turning her hands so that she could look at the back. ¡°Remind me.¡±


    Fendor chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±


    On the back of her hand was a symbol. It looked like a tattoo. Deoti hadn¡¯t seen the symbol before, but she knew what it implied. As an S-rank, it was weird to have a tattoo appearing on her without her even feeling it.


    But even though she¡¯d never seen the symbol before, Deoti had an idea of what it implied. This was definitely going to be a problem.


    ¡°This is messed up,¡± she muttered, annoyed.


    ¡°And it just got a whole lot worse,¡± Fendor groaned.


    In front of them, one of the beings of the portal hovered in the air, levitating. Its head was simply round and white and the rest of its body was black with purple stains for hands and feet. It was a chibi, like all the portal beings Deoti had ever had the displeasure of meeting were.


    Their only differences were in their distinctive features. Colors, looks, mannerisms, and the like. But their heights always remained the same.


    It stood in the air with no mouth and only slits for eyes, lines drawn on its face. Those eyes were currently sharp diagonal lines. If they were eye brows, they would be depicting anger.


    Deoti wasn¡¯t feeling anger from the small creature right now, though. She was feeling unbridled rage.


    And with that rage, it hovered in the air, right above the Oath of Madness, staring him down. David met its gaze equally.


    <<You should not be here, defender.>> it said, its voice rippling through the entire portal.


    David¡¯s response was simple, his voice controlled. ¡°I have come for what¡¯s mine.¡±


    This was a far bigger mess than they¡¯d thought. Far bigger than the fact that they¡¯d all been marked with a symbol that meant that there were certain parts of the portal that they would not be able to enter.


    But what was worse was that one of the portal beings was barring their way.


    Portal beings never stopped Delvers from crossing a portal.


    Portal beings never interfered. Never acted unless provoked.


    And this one had just told them that they did not belong, unprovoked.


    Lisa inched towards Deoti and asked in a low whisper. ¡°Are we going to fight a portal being?¡±


    Deoti paled at the question. Lisa was a good communicator so she was good at phrasing words in ways that were more acceptable¡ªless shock inducing.


    The question she was really asking echoed easily in Deoti¡¯s head.


    Are we going to die today?

 SIXTY-FIVE: Law of Bloodline

    There was a universal problem with specific portals, and it was the thing standing in front of them.


    Deoti watched in silence as David stared it down, Fendor and Lisa standing right beside her. They flanked her on both sides. Axe and Saxi stood to the side, watching the encounter with a certain level of alertness. There was no one in the team who wasn¡¯t alert.


    Today just might be the day they attempted the impossible. With David in full blown Oath of Madness mode, there would be no stopping him.


    They had heard from the other teams about how they were treated by their Oaths. Some Oaths treated their teams like servants, high-end servants, but servants nonetheless. Some treated them like sidekicks. Distractions designed to keep them alive. Inevitability¡¯s team rarely spoke. There was a standing speculation that if the Oath¡¯s team hadn¡¯t ended up working for the Oath, they would¡¯ve ended up being mercenaries of some form. There was just a thing about them.


    War¡¯s team was the only one that somehow seemed more like soldiers than anything else. War, from what they¡¯d heard, had a strict rule of hierarchy. She¡¯d had a second in command and a third and a fourth. Each member knew their place. She¡¯d even had something no other team had, a designated teammate who played the role of mediator.


    Deoti had asked what the role really entailed once, and the man had claimed his job was to think and plan. It was odd to learn since everyone knew that War did most if not all the planning for her team. Further probing had revealed more.


    ¡°I plan and anticipate the negotiations,¡± War¡¯s mediator had once said. ¡°Sometimes, both parties have what they want and find it difficult to reach a compromise¡ªWar more than others. My job is to skirt the lines in between. I plan for concessions, arrange compromises. It¡¯s a taxing role.¡±


    The last part he had said a little downcast.


    But amongst all the teams, David¡¯s was the only one that acted as a group of friends working together. The team had heard on multiple occasions when other Oaths had advised David against the way he treated them, War being one of them. But nothing had changed. They might as well have been a project team like the one you got in high school.


    But they worked in their own way. No matter how free they were, they never disobeyed and always knew who was in charge even though he never strictly pointed it out.


    So they always had free reign. Until times like this. Times when David was completely overcome by his single-minded pursuit. Working for other Oaths meant that at all times, there was always the possibility of avoiding death.


    Working with Madness meant that there was always that raging fear at the back of your mind. A fear that told you that a day would come when you would stumble upon certain death. A day when a situation that was meant to be avoided by all values of the cosmos met with the single-minded focus of David Lockwood, the Oath of Madness.


    And they all knew that David would not be the one to stand down.


    I just didn¡¯t think that day would be today, Deoti thought with a touch of sadness.


    But it didn¡¯t matter. If today was the day she died, then she would die giving that pompous chibi all she had to give.


    The creature continued to stare down at David, lines for eyes turned down in a clear display of rage. It hadn¡¯t even done the customary tradition of introducing itself to David. From what they knew, there was rarely a portal creature that did not introduce itself to an Oath.


    Apart from the Oaths, the rest of them might as well be nonexistent.


    <<Leave,>> it said. Its voice filled the portal like grating gravels being scraped against each other. <<You do not belong.>>


    David did not flinch. ¡°I am here for what is mine.¡±


    <<You have nothing here,>> it told him. <<No one owns anything beyond their world, defender.>>


    David pointed forward, beyond the creature. ¡°One of mine has gone beyond.¡±


    <<Then it is yours no longer.>>


    ¡°It is a part of my world.¡±


    <<Then it is no more than an intruder in an anomaly.>> The creature did not budge. <<It will live and die by the rules of the anomaly. You have no claim over it.>>


    ¡°I claim it by law of bloodline.¡±


    The creature¡¯s eyes twitched. A line grew were a mouth would¡¯ve been, jagged and terrible. Then it disappeared.


    ¡°The law of bloodline applies,¡± David said.


    <<Only on a living world,>> the creature replied. <<The world beyond has neither guardian nor Oath. Not Sage nor Impdit. The laws cannot be executed. The laws cannot apply.>>


    Deoti had no idea what exactly they were talking about. She could make sense of some things through deduction, though. The law of bloodline had to mean that there were rules that governed the portals and the worlds beyond them. Rules that only the Oaths knew, apparently.


    Why they didn¡¯t share this knowledge, however, was beyond anyone that was not an Oath. At first they¡¯d thought the Oaths kept it a secret to monopolize information and keep themselves important. But their power was more than enough levels of importance.


    So there was another reason. There had to be. If not she would have to accept that the level of arrogance all Oaths possessed was something David shared despite how different he was from them. And that wasn¡¯t something Deoti was ready to accept.


    David was the only living proof she knew of that told them that the arrogance of Oaths was simply the effect of the corruption of power.


    So there was another reason the Oaths did not share what they knew of the laws governing portals.


    As for the law of bloodline, it seemed Oaths¡ªmost probably not just them¡ªcould cross portals without hindrance if they had a family member on the other side. Which didn¡¯t make sense since this was the first time anyone was ever experiencing an Oath being hindered.


    Some Oaths don¡¯t enter some portals, though, Deoti remembered.


    Maybe this had something to do with that. No Oath ever claimed that they were kept out or couldn¡¯t enter a portal, but there were times when Oaths simply didn¡¯t enter portals. Sometimes an Oath would opt out and another would replace their team.


    And by opt out, Deoti meant refuse. Maybe they were playing off hindrances. Shield, for one, rarely entered portals. Everyone had always thought it was because her Oath wasn¡¯t offense based. But what if there was a different reason for it?


    Deoti held back a groan. How she hated Oath businesses.


    Ahead of them, David remained locked in conversation.


    ¡°I will uphold and execute the law while I am there,¡± he said.


    <<By that logic, you will be a biased executioner.>> The creature shook its head in disagreement. <<You will have to be balanced out. An opposition will have to be called in.>>


    Deoti paled a little more. Did an opposition mean an Intruder that the creature considered an equal match to David would be brought in?


    In a C-rank portal that would be all out chaos.


    Nobody on the other side of the portal would survive a clash between two Oaths. It was madness.


    ¡°On what grounds?¡± David asked.


    <<Fairness.>>


    David paused, shook his head as if dispelling a thought. ¡°Fairness is not necessary in a world without laws.¡±


    The creature shook its head. <<All worlds are with laws.>>


    ¡°You claimed they do not apply.¡±


    <<Law of bloodline does not apply.>>


    David shook his head again, dispelling not disagreeing. ¡°It should make sense.¡±


    The moment the words left his lips, he bristled. His shoulders stiffened and hands twitched. Deoti and the others had no idea what that implied. But they had seen something akin to it once. It hadn¡¯t carried such fervor but it had been close enough.


    Once upon a time Oath of Secrets had screamed at David and he had twitched ever so slightly. At the time, David¡¯s wife had still been the Oath of War, and she had taken one glance at David and told the Oath of Secrets that lies were not a favorable course to take.


    Did it lie? Deoti found herself wondering.


    While she wondered, the portal creature floated a little lower, brought itself closer so that it could stare at David at eye level.


    It said only one word. <<Madness.>>


    The word carried disgust.


    David leaned into it, undeterred. ¡°You know me,¡± he said. ¡°Now I must know you. I know the rules.¡±


    The creature folded its arms like a petulant child. Whatever anger it had started the conversation with only seemed to boil a little more, and for a moment, Deoti thought it would not answer.


    She had never seen a portal creature refuse to answer when an Oath identified themselves. Then again, she had also never seen a portal creature stand in an Oath¡¯s way when they were inside a portal.


    After a while it dropped its arms and its eyes turned to horizontal slits. It still remained without a mouth.


    << I am Void-beast designation 12849,>> it said, as if declaring its very being. <<Keeper of the fallen lands of Caldath, First of its place, Existent not made, One of many, Executioner of the portal of the dying not dead, and hopeful friend to an August.>>


    The last title drew everyone¡¯s attention. Every portal creature was always so pompous in their introduction. They declared themselves as if reading a royal decree from an infinite king. But they¡¯d never heard the word ¡®hopeful¡¯ in any introduction before.


    Or August.


    <<¡­And I say once more that you don¡¯t belong,>> it finished.


    David raised his hand, turned it so that its back faced the void beast. ¡°And yet, the portal disagrees.¡±


    The frown returned to he void beast¡¯s face. It made a gesture, a wave of its hand. On Deoti¡¯s hand the symbol glowed softly, morphed slightly. When it was done, it remained the same. Nothing of its shape had changed. At least nothing discernable.


    <<There,>> the creature said. <<Better.>>


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    ¡°So we may enter?¡± David asked.


    <<I¡¯m not sure yet.>> It touched its face, thoughtful. A very human-like expression. <<I do not want you to enter.>>


    ¡°You will stop us?¡±


    Another thoughtful pause followed. <<Maybe.>>


    David¡¯s hands balled into fists and Deoti paled further. The possibility of a fight danced on the horizon, staring at them like a favorable lover.


    If David chose to fight, they would die. Deoti didn¡¯t know how Oaths would fare in a fight against a portal creature, but she knew how S-ranks fared.


    And to think she¡¯d punched some low ranked Gifted just a few moments ago while playing the role of the powerful S-rank. Life really comes at you fast.


    In a normal situation or as normal as any situation the Oath of Madness often found himself in, Lisa would¡¯ve walked up to him to offer a word or two of advice. Especially in a situation where the problem was communication.


    Deoti¡¯s gaze shifted to Lisa and she gave up hope on that happening. The problem with being Lisa was that just as she knew when and how to talk, she also knew when not to and how not to talk.


    This was definitely a when not to talk.


    ¡°You will not stop me.¡± David said, voice tight. He paused at the end of his words and frowned. ¡°I will not allow it without a fight.¡±


    The creature nodded. <<You will not,>>


    For a moment, they both stared each other down. An Oath opposing a portal creature. Before long, the void beast relaxed¡­ maybe deflated was the right word.


    <<I¡¯m not a big fan of Oaths and Sages and Impdits,>> it said. <<Sages are a little too smart and start to think they are important. Impdits are¡­ it doesn¡¯t matter. You don¡¯t have them on your side. But Oaths¡­>>


    Deoti fought to stop herself from asking what about Oaths. It felt like she was about to hear one of the secrets of Oaths right now. One so guarded that it was a universal law accepted by all Oaths throughout the world.


    <<Oaths are annoying,>> the void beast finished. <<Yes, you are worthy of some respect. It is why we talk to you. But that is all there is to it. Worth of some respect. You succeeded in reaching the peak of what your world is capable of. You embodied a part of it and were offered that embodiment in return. And you took it, no questions asked.>>


    ¡°Questions were asked,¡± David said, voice impatient.


    <<Even worse,>> the void beast replied, its voice sounded scornful. <<You asked questions and still took it.>>


    ¡°Questions were asked. No answers were given.¡±


    <<Of course not. Do you expect your instinct to give you an answer when you ask?>> the creature shook its head. <<But you. You of all. How does a lowly sentient embody a concept as close to existential as madness?>>


    ¡°We are all mad.¡±


    <<You are not. Sentients do not even know how to be mad.>> The creature scratched its head. <<The few that ever touch upon it do not hold onto their sanity long enough, not to talk of actively enough to embody it.>>


    The creature was sounding more disgusted and put out with every word. It sounded as if it was angry at a dog for trying to eat at the table. It was brimming with condescension and arrogance.


    <<I can understand the others. They are not impossible.>> It floated a little higher. <<But not you. You are closer to me than them. An impossibility. Yet, a tool. A weapon to your world. A desperate attempt to survive. And you aren¡¯t even a tool in a sense you understand.>>


    ¡°I am a tool that is necessary.¡±


    <<And yet you would interrupt the path of something greater?>>


    ¡°Something greater?¡±


    <<Than yourself. Than your entire world. Would you stand in the way of a sapient?>>


    ¡°I will stand in the way of anyone to protect what is mine.¡± David¡¯s stance shifted ever so slightly. He moved from an angry man to an Oath ready for war.


    The void beast did not move a muscle. But the cloud-like visage of the portal moved. Its deep blue twirled slightly, the smell of blood deepened as if freshly spilled.


    Deoti¡¯s hand moved for her gun, a response to violence honed over time. Against a portal being, a gun would definitely be useless. But it didn''t matter since she was without one. It took her a moment to remember that they''d placed it in Fendor''s storage space. So she prepared herself to use her skills, instead.


    To everyone¡¯s greatest surprise, the creature sighed. It was an actual sigh, an impossible thing.


    <<I think,>> it began solemnly, <<that eating you will not be a good idea.>>


    Those words were both terrifying and comforting. The creature had said it as if its ability to eat David was without question. As if it would not even be tasking.


    It was a statement of their weakness and a statement of their safety.


    It could always just kill us without eating us, though, Deoti thought.


    <<If I eat you, I may lose title.>> It frowned, lined eyes drooping in what looked like sadness or dismay. <<I like title.>>


    Deoti paused, confused. That was a complete switch up. The creature had gone from arrogant and condescending to whiny and infantile. And what was with the sudden change of speech pattern.


    It knocked the ends of its arm together. The action looked eerily like it was trying to fidget, play with fingers it didn¡¯t have in nervousness.


    Deoti looked at the others and found them equally confused, but no less alert.


    What the hell is happening?


    The creature scratched its head. <<Will you go back if I ask nicely?>>


    Nicely?


    What the hell was happening? Were they wrong? Were Oaths protected within the portal somehow by the virtue of what they were? The entire conversation had been a rollercoaster. And if Deoti was being honest, it now looked like more of a negotiation than a conversation.


    Just how much power do Oaths have?


    What she was witnessing implied that their very being transcended even earth. The portal creature, feared by all who knew of its existence, and absolutely condescending and disrespectful was attempting to ask nicely?


    The damned things didn¡¯t even talk to anyone unless they were Oaths. There was rumor of it talking to an SS-rank but Deoti hadn¡¯t confirmed how true that was. Normally, it would only speak the briefest words to an Oath, talking to them as if they were children that had no other business but to sit, listen and obey.


    Portal beings did not ask nicely.


    David shook his head. ¡°I must be on the other side.¡±


    And the Oath of Madness was hell bent on getting them killed. Amazing.


    There was also the possibility that he knew the creature couldn¡¯t kill him. Wouldn¡¯t try. What was it that the creature had said? He was the Oath closest to existential. What did that even mean?


    It was almost as if it was saying the Oath of Madness was almost as powerful as it.


    <<You break too much if I allow,>> the void beast said. <<I don¡¯t want to allow.>>


    For the first time since entering the portal and having the void beast descend in front of them, David took a step forward.


    The void beast floated backwards.


    That was all they needed to know. It would not stop them.


    Deoti took a step forward, her action leading the others to act as well. Vertical lines moved in a round, expressionless head, and she froze.


    The void beast had spared a very brief moment to give them its attention for the first time. Dread coiled around Deoti¡¯s spine. Her breath froze in her lungs. Her hands shook.


    If she moved, she would die.


    Is this the difference in power between us and an Oath? Is this the difference in our importance?


    <<Will you leave if I not kill them?>> it asked, looking at them but not talking to them. <<They just sentient. You can replace easy.>>


    David looked back at them, face expressionless.


    Placed in a decision between picking them or Melmarc, there was nobody present that did not know the answer he would give the creature.


    He looked back at the void beast. ¡°I will not leave.¡±


    Deoti knew this would be his response. She had accepted it ages ago. Yet, to hear him say it still broke her a little bit. It was unfair to feel bad about what you already knew, but she couldn¡¯t help it.


    He would discard them to save his son. It was admirable. It was painful.


    <<You are difficult,>> the void beast said. <<I have idea.>>


    ¡°He¡¯s listening,¡± Saxi said, hurriedly.


    Deoti shot him a death stare. Why the hell was he drawing attention to them? When she saw his face, she knew the answer. The man had been terrified for his life. Having his life negotiated over as if he was a useless battering chip must¡¯ve taken a toll.


    He wanted to be part of this negotiation. He wanted some modicum of control over his fate. Hopefully he doesn¡¯t die because of it.


    The void beast ignored him.


    <<You enter,>> it told David. <<But I give you handicap.>>


    ¡°Why?¡± David asked.


    <<Because more important thing is happening there. More important than you.>> the creature folded its arms. <<You enter, you disrupt important thing. Important thing become failure. Veebee don¡¯t want failure.>>


    Veebee? What the hell¡¯s a Veebee?


    As far as Deoti was concerned, it was official. This was the most confusing portal being she had ever met.


    David took only a moment to think about it. ¡°What is this handicap?¡±


    <<You not have Oath powers when you enter.>>


    Well, that really wasn¡¯t a handicap. Rumors had it that Oaths were technically as powerful as an SS-rank when they didn¡¯t use their Oath skills, not that Deoti knew what an Oath skill was when it was used.


    Regardless, there was only one answer David was going to give.


    ¡°I accept.¡±


    The creature nodded. <<Another thing. If Law of bloodline not apply, Law of bloodline not apply. I different Keeper. Other Keepers not forgive you and let you go.>>


    David nodded.


    ¡°I will not forget,¡± he said, and the mark on his hand glowed once more.


    The creature floated all the way to the side. It was a simple action, but it carried all the meaning to it. They were allowed to proceed.


    David walked forward and Deoti and the others followed.


    ¡°What¡¯s Law of bloodline?¡± Axe asked as they walked, the portal¡¯s chaotic roiling returning back to its normal calm state.


    ¡°It¡¯s a law permitting me to walk into any portal to save anyone that is of my bloodline,¡± David answered.


    They were suddenly already close to the exit.


    ¡°So what?¡± Saxi asked. ¡°Only Oaths have it?¡±


    ¡°Everyone has it.¡±


    ¡°Never heard of it,¡± Fendor said. ¡°So we can just walk into any portal to save our bloodline?¡±


    ¡°There is no portal you cannot walk into to do whatever you want,¡± David answered.


    That was true. The only portals people were not allowed to enter were portals the government and the legal rules on earth did not allow you enter.


    Like us entering this portal.


    ¡°If you can enter any portal, then what¡¯s the point of the Law of bloodline?¡± Saxi asked confused.


    ¡°They are just laws.¡±


    Fendor looked confused. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°Speech is free,¡± Lisa said in way of explanation. ¡°You can say whatever you want whenever you want.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Fendor agreed.


    ¡°Yet Freedom of speech is a part of our constitution.¡± Lisa shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m guessing Law of bloodline is just there because for some reason it has to be.¡±


    ¡°And there are other bunches of Laws people don¡¯t know about?¡± Axe asked. ¡°Laws only Oaths know?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± David said.


    ¡°You gonna tell us what they are, Boss?¡± Saxi asked.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°How about why only Oaths know it?¡±


    ¡°Because we are Oaths?¡±


    ¡°Gonna expand on that, Boss?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    They stood at the end of the portal, a swirling portal in front of them that showed nothing of what was on the other side.


    David took a step forward when the creature appeared right beside him, startling them. Well, the rest of them. David didn¡¯t even flinch.


    <<One more thing,>> it said. <<I am not allowed direct help so you help.>>


    David looked at it. ¡°I thought you were worried that I would interfere.¡±


    <<You not interfere,>> it replied. <<I sure of this.>>


    ¡°Then how do you intend of getting my help?¡±


    The creature shrugged. <<You help even if you not want to help. Pseudo B-rank.>>


    Deoti said nothing. No one did. It seemed the creature was not omnipotent. It did not know everything, apparently.


    The creature¡¯s eyes shifted to her and she felt herself shrink slightly.


    It looked back at David. <<Not portal.>>


    Then it vanished once more.


    It can read minds?


    That was a very terrifying thought. Deoti was beginning to think that the portal beings not talking to them was the lesser of two evils.


    ¡°We should hurry,¡± David said, then stepped through the portal.


    ¡­


    The moment they appeared on the other side of the portal Deoti¡¯s interface came alive in front of her.


    [Welcome to The Ruins of Caldath]


    ¡­


    [Portal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free these innocent servants from their unfair damnation.


    [Portal Objective: Find the orb of Caldath.]


    She skimmed through it before discarding it. The moment it was gone, she felt something. They had appeared in a large room, filled with rubbles and broken walls. It was dark, with a small stream of light coming through a window that was at eye level.


    David and Axe would have to bend to look through it.


    The room smelled wet and moldy with a touch of decay. Deoti didn¡¯t like it. The window also let in a small draft. Deoti ignored all the information she gathered and turned to the side almost immediately.


    She was already too late. Their enemy had moved far sooner than she had, probably before the portal had fully deposited them in this world.


    A large humanoid thing darted through the air with a speed unbecoming of most things that should be in a C-rank portal. It swept through the air, shot forward, arm swinging and spinning. Deoti watched just in time to know that it held a broad sword in its hand.


    ¡°Move!¡± she called, raising her hands to activate her skill, knowing she might be too late.


    The creature cut through the air with a powerful sword slash and she felt the breeze ruffle her hair. The edge of the sword cut straight into David¡¯s neck¡­


    ¡­And bounced off.


    The creature landed in front of David, just to the side.


    David had been looking at the window the entire time. He paid it no attention as he swung his hand in a casual gesture. His hand connected with the creature¡¯s head in a back-handed slap and the head shattered on impact. What was left of its body dropped to the floor, lifeless.


    ¡°Some one check the window,¡± he instructed. ¡°Some one get the door.¡±


    Saxi moved to the window while Axe went for the door, everyone moving without question. Deoti took the time to look down at the creature.


    It was grotesque. Humanoid with a knight¡¯s armor, though the armor was rusted in different places. What she had thought was the creature holding a broad sword turned out to be the blade of a broadsword attached to the thing at the wrist.


    Grotesque and wrong, she thought. No surprise there.


    Saxi walked back to them and spared the creature a glance. He used a skill because through the connection established between all of them by Lisa, Deoti saw the effect of the skill. Words appeared over the thing¡¯s chest, identifying it.


    [Damned (C)]


    [State: Damned]


    ¡°Well that¡¯s not helpful,¡± Saxi complained. ¡°I know its dead but I was expecting to see dead.¡±


    ¡°What did you get from the window?¡± Fendor asked.


    His words brought Saxi back to what was important.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± he said, turning to David. ¡°It¡¯s a bit interesting. So get this¡ª¡±


    ¡°To the point,¡± Axe chided from the broken wall that looked like it opened up to a pathway.


    Saxi sighed. ¡°Anyway, we seem to be high up and surrounded by buildings.¡±


    ¡°Buildings?¡± Deoti asked.


    Saxi nodded.


    ¡°Personally, I think we¡¯re in a castle or something.¡±

 SIXTY-SIX: Canopus

    With his punishment done, Melmarc returned to the room. Behind him, Jude groaned and winced and muttered incoherent words, still leaning against the wall. Melmarc didn¡¯t know if the incoherent words were words of anger or words of pain.


    What he knew, however, was that if the tables were turned and someone had just broken his ribs, he would definitely be angry. But only out of context.


    If he¡¯d done what Jude had done to him and had gotten his ribs broken for it, it would be a fitting punishment. Melmarc was already in the room when the thought crossed his mind and he paused.


    That was a lot to assume of himself. And while he fully expected his mind to disagree with him¡ªto declare the thought dissonant¡ªit did not.


    Melmarc had a feeling he was supposed to be glad for it, but just couldn¡¯t bring himself to be glad. Knowing yourself and what you were capable of was always a good thing. But having this level of certainty of who you were was¡­ wrong.


    What was a person that didn¡¯t allow himself to question himself? It could breed arrogance. Also, such a level of dependency on his ability to note his own dissonance didn¡¯t sound like a good thing.


    Not being dissonant doesn¡¯t always mean being right.


    Melmarc looked back at Jude. The man had a hand on the right side of his chest. His face was twisted in pain and he had stopped muttering. His eyes, however, remained fixed on Melmarc. They were currently in a bit of a daze. It was most likely an effect of the pain.


    You just made yourself an enemy.


    If that was true, then Jude had no business being a rescuer. A Delver didn¡¯t have to be morally right to clear a portal, but what happened when you gave a man with no moral obligation the power that came with being a Delver?


    They panic and shoot kids.


    Melmarc sighed, returning his attention to the room. The Delvers here watched him as if they were watching an oddity. Melmarc couldn¡¯t care much for it. But if he could care for it, he would say that he didn¡¯t like it. The staring. The worry.


    If anyone should be staring with worry, it should be him. Once again, he noticed he had all of them in his view. They were not in his direct view but they were within seeing position. And Jed was, again, just at the edge of it. Was the Delver doing it intentionally?


    ¡°Satisfied?¡± Naymond asked.


    Melmarc looked at him and found him standing, though he was rested, leaning against a half-crumbling wall. Claire stood beside him. She was trying to look casual about it but Melmarc could see the brief worried glances she gave Naymond.


    She wasn¡¯t convinced that he was fine.


    Melmarc nodded in response to Naymond¡¯s question. ¡°A little.¡±


    The question was odd, though. Personally, he would¡¯ve expected the [Sage] to use the word ¡®happy¡¯ instead of ¡®satisfied.¡¯ It was just something about how the man was sometimes very mocking. Because of that, his choice of words felt intentional.


    He knows something.


    But whatever he knew could come later. Right now, what was important was clearing the portal. If it had been over twelve days outside, then the mentorship program had to have ended. If that was true, then Ark would be home. And Ark would be worried by his absence.


    The last thing Melmarc needed was for his brother to start harboring ideas regarding his absence. Ark wasn¡¯t known to stay one place.


    Or stay safe.


    ¡°So what are we doing?¡± Melmarc looked around, met each Delver¡¯s eye except Nelson who was still lying down on the ground. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±


    Clinton was the one that answered.


    ¡°The plan is to find out where this Orb of Caldath could possibly be,¡± he said. ¡°We just got in so there¡¯s very little we know. ¡°So Naymon¡ª¡±


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± Naymond corrected, making Clinton falter slightly.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± Clinton rectified, ¡°will tell us what he knows about the portal, and we¡¯ll make a plan from there. From my little experience so far, I¡¯ll assume there¡¯ll be a lot of fighting. A lot of loud gunshots, too.¡±


    ¡°You should probably ask Mr. Lockwood those questions,¡± Naymond interjected. ¡°He¡¯s the one who¡¯s actually been hanging around. I¡¯ve been doing more of making sure I don¡¯t die. Poorly, might I add.¡±


    Clinton frowned at that. Then he turned his attention to Melmarc.


    Melmarc waited as if he wasn¡¯t sure of what was happening.


    ¡°Any information you can give us would go a long way in helping us,¡± Clinton said at last.


    The Delver had technically bitten out the words. It was almost as if he was averse to saying them.


    As if he doesn¡¯t want my help. Why?


    The man had been more than happy to have his help when they¡¯d been surrounded by infant [Damned]. What changed?


    Melmarc¡¯s mind went to Jude. Had what he¡¯d done to Jude played a part? Did Clinton suddenly not trust him because he¡¯d beaten one of his men and gone the extra mile in breaking his rib?


    That was a little stupid and pretentious, if Melmarc was being honest. It would be stupid to trust the man who¡¯d shot at a kid over a kid who¡¯d protected himself. Wouldn¡¯t it?


    Naymond sighed. ¡°You aren¡¯t helping any matters squad leader.¡±


    Clinton started where he was. It took him a moment before he looked at Naymond.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked.


    ¡°He means that the kid has too many thoughts going through his head,¡± Jed said. ¡°And I¡¯m guessing its your fault.¡±


    Clinton¡¯s frown deepened. This time he leveled the deepened frown on Naymond.


    ¡°What?¡± Naymond shrugged. ¡°I¡¯d have to be blind and eyeless not to see that you don¡¯t want to work with him.¡±


    Jed nodded. ¡°True.¡±


    Then he took a step back, carefully placing himself out of Melmarc¡¯s view. Melmarc didn¡¯t like it. He took a step to the side, placed half of the man back into his periphery.


    Once upon a time Melmarc hadn¡¯t liked not knowing. Knowing was very important to him, because the more he knew the more he could deal with. Especially in Ark¡¯s case. His brother was so prone to daring deeds that someone had to look out for his safety.


    Now, however, he was beginning to think he really didn¡¯t like not knowing. Like not knowing where the people around him were standing. Like not knowing if Jed was going to do something to him while he couldn¡¯t see the man.


    Sounds like paranoia.


    Melmarc really hoped it was just the portal and this paranoia wasn¡¯t something that was going to stick with him. He also hoped it was actually a healthy response to his situation and not paranoia.


    Clinton pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger in a tired expression. He inhaled deeply, then leveled brown eyes on Melmarc.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t want to work with him,¡± he started, then paused. Shaking his head, he tried again. ¡°Actually, you guys are right. I don¡¯t want to work with him.¡±


    Well, Melmarc wasn¡¯t very worried by that. He would still have to close the portal, regardless. They could take the lead and clear out the [Damned], not that he wanted them to, killing the [Damned] did give him [EP] and he had a feeling he¡¯d need as many as he could get. And not just for [Optimum Existence].


    Still, while they tried to get the Orb, he still had to fight Caldath. So there was that. Wanting to work with him or not was unimportant.


    Naymond sighed. ¡°But?¡±


    Clinton cracked his knuckles. ¡°I have no beef with Marc. I just want to start by putting that on the record.¡±


    Melmarc paused, realizing something. Why was he allowing Naymond do the talking? Because they were surrounded by adults and Naymond was the adult between the both of them? Or was it something else?


    He didn¡¯t think Naymond was still mediating right now. There was no negotiation going on. Melmarc wasn¡¯t trying to get something.


    Twelve days in a portal and you still think of yourself as a kid among adults.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t mind the thought. The time he¡¯d spent in the ruins gave him some level of knowledge over the ruins, but he would be stupid to assume it suddenly made him an adult. So he settled for the conclusion that he was saying nothing because children normally didn¡¯t interject when adults were speaking.


    ¡°Now that that¡¯s recorded,¡± Naymond said. ¡°Please continue.¡±


    ¡°A child shouldn¡¯t have to Delve,¡± Clinton continued with a sigh. ¡°He should be thinking about school. Where he wants to go. If there¡¯ll be pretty girls there. He should be thinking about if he wants to be far from his parents or close to his parents. If he¡¯ll be able to make good friends or not.¡± Clinton gestured around with a sweep of his hand. ¡°Not this. A child shouldn¡¯t be doing this.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to point out that it was already too late to be worrying about that last part but said nothing.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to work with him,¡± Clinton continued, ¡°because he¡¯s not supposed to be here planning what should be done with us. He¡¯s supposed to be at the center of whatever formation we take while clearing the portal. Safe. Secure.¡± He ran a tired hand through his hair. ¡°Everything has been wrong since we got in here. At this point I¡¯ll have to drop a petition against Jude once we¡¯re out of here. I owe the world that much.¡±


    Jude made a sound where he was, an incoherent groan.


    ¡°A little bit of a belated decision, don¡¯t you think?¡± Claire pointed out. ¡°We all stood while it happened. We kinda tried to justify the entire thing, too.¡±


    ¡°And we were wrong. A Delver who wouldn¡¯t hesitate to shoot a kid should be cause for worry.¡±


    To his surprise, all Melmarc got from this was that they were wasting time. What had happened had happened. Jude was forgiven but not forgotten. What became of him after the delve was also not his problem. His problem was getting back home to his family.


    If his parents were finally back from their deployments, which he believed they likely were, they would be worried. Gravely.


    And he didn¡¯t want to worry them.


    Naymond¡¯s attention moved to Melmarc. It was a slight thing, almost capable of going unnoticed. Then he returned his attention to Clinton.


    ¡°Got it,¡± he said to Clinton. ¡°Now that we have that, how about we move on. You need knowledge of this portal. I can give you some. Whatever I can give you, Mr. Lockwood can give your four times, maybe six, including whatever I give you. So let¡¯s ask him questions, get answers, and move on.¡±


    Clinton looked at Melmarc. Reluctance colored his expression. He was clearly warring with his decision. Morals against logic. In the end, logic won.


    ¡°What can you tell us about the portal?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ll start with the simple things,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°I haven¡¯t spent any time in the part of the portal where I found you.¡±


    ¡°Simple enough,¡± Jed said.


    ¡°But I¡¯ve spent time in other parts,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Enough to say I have an idea of where the Orb is.¡±


    ¡°And where¡¯s that?¡± Clinton asked.


    ¡°There¡¯s a castle. If we run, we should be able to get there in a few hours. But the problem isn¡¯t getting there but entering.¡±


    Clinton frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°These guys.¡± Naymond nudged the [Damned] that had almost killed him with his foot. ¡°They¡¯re swarming all over the entrance.¡±


    Melmarc turned to him, surprised. ¡°You got that far?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± he grinned, proud of himself. ¡°But not farther.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Clinton asked.


    ¡°Two reasons. One, I had my amazing student to look for and protect at the cost of my life. And two, I actually couldn¡¯t take them.¡±


    Melmarc ignored the student comment, but Clinton¡¯s attention sharpened on that.


    ¡°You¡¯re his teacher?¡±


    Naymond nodded. ¡°They didn¡¯t tell you when you guys were entering?¡±


    Clinton shook his head. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Curious.¡± Naymond stroked his jaw. ¡°Then I¡¯ll assume you don¡¯t know what my occupation is.¡±


    ¡°All we know is that Alfa made a very big mistake and needed help fixing it,¡± Jed said. He¡¯d slipped outside Melmarc¡¯s periphery again. ¡°We know the kid¡¯s part of the mentorship program and they needed help getting him out and clearing the portal.¡±


    ¡°And you guys were confident that he would be alive?¡± Naymond shook his head in mock dismay. ¡°You underestimate portals a little too much.¡±


    Oddly, something in his expression when he said the last part rubbed Melmarc wrong. It had been a little too serious. Was it because of Veebee?


    There was a strong chance that he wouldn¡¯t ever find out. For one, topics of Veebee tended to be lost in translation. The second reason was that whatever expression Naymond had carried before he¡¯d gone to find the Delvers was gone. He doubted that fear and need to keep himself alive by giving all the information he had was still there.


    Melmarc still didn¡¯t like that Naymond had really believed that he would leave him. It continued to rub him the wrong way.


    ¡°We were also told his rank,¡± Clinton added. ¡°A B-rank Gifted in a C-rank portal could be alive if he just found a safe place and stayed there. So we were hopeful.¡±


    ¡°What about me?¡± Naymond asked.


    ¡°We were just told to find you.¡±


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°You were kind of secondary,¡± Jed said.


    Naymond placed a hand on his chest. ¡°That hurts me deeply.¡±


    Dissonant.


    For the first time in a very long time, Melmarc smiled. It was a genuine one. He hadn¡¯t needed the thought to know that Naymond was lying.


    Something about the fact that he could still smile soothed him, calmed him.


    ¡°Alright, Marc,¡± Clinton said, pulling the conversation to the main topic. ¡°What do we need to know about this place? This castle.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Not much. The castle ground seemed large with the main castle at the far back. From what I could see, it was tall. Massive. Then these guys,¡± he gestured at the [Damned] on the ground, ¡°filled the entrance I saw. I don¡¯t know if there¡¯s another entrance, but the few times I went there, I could only see one.¡±


    ¡°A gate.¡± Clinton¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°Do you know what kind? Was it a normal gate or a portcullis or was it a kind of draw bridge?¡±


    ¡°It was a hole in the wall,¡± Melmarc answered.


    Clinton paused, quiet for a moment.


    ¡°If it was a hole in the wall,¡± Jed said. ¡°Then it means there¡¯s a gate somewhere. Another entrance. Unless the hole used to be a gate.¡±


    ¡°Whichever one it is,¡± Clinton said. ¡°I think it¡¯s good news for us.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc asked, not that his mind wasn¡¯t going through all the possibilities as to why it could be good news.


    ¡°Because,¡± Jed said. ¡°If its just a hole in the wall it means the wall can crumble and already is.¡±


    ¡°And Nelson has some explosives on him,¡± Clinton added. ¡°So we can make another hole.¡±


    ¡°Sneak in through there,¡± Jed explained. ¡°We can bypass unnecessary fights that way.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how unnecessary the fights were. For him, every fight he could get his hands on seemed necessary. With the reward of [EP] dangling in front of him as well as what it was capable of, he found himself with the urge to fight. The motivation.


    But he would not push it. It was one thing to fight the [Damned] on this side of the portal, and it was another to fight the ones he¡¯d seen at the gate.


    ¡°So which one was it?¡± Clinton asked.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know. ¡°I never saw a gate. And the hole I saw didn¡¯t look like it had been a gate once.¡±


    Clinton and Jed shared a look. On the ground, Nelson was finally stirring. Slowly, like someone with a hangover, he pushed himself to his knees. Then he picked himself up, rising to his feet.


    He staggered once before catching himself.


    ¡°Welcome back,¡± Naymond said, cheery. ¡°You didn¡¯t miss much.¡±


    Nelson¡¯s eyes settled on him first, then they moved to where he had once been lying down, dying. Then his attention swiveled to everyone in the room.


    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked, voice weak.


    ¡°You hit your head,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°You tripped, fell, and hit your head. Jed, over there laughed, but no one blamed you. It was a nasty fall.¡±


    Nelson frowned, looking confused. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t trip.¡±


    He looked at Clinton as if to confirm his words.


    There was a moment¡¯s pause before Clinton said anything. ¡°It¡¯s the better story, Nelson.¡±


    Nelson squinted. He looked behind him, beyond the room. Jude was quiet, conscious but quiet. Right now he had his entire attention focused on his breathing, looking at nobody.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t f¡ª¡± Nelson began.


    ¡°Take the story, big guy,¡± Jed interrupted him. ¡°Trust us. It¡¯s the better shame.¡±


    Nelson looked to everybody. They all had the same expression, something solemn. They said it was the better shame and Melmarc understood it. It seemed like they held the man to higher moral standard than Jude. To them, sticking to the story that a professional Delver had attacked a child was a greater shame than tripping and falling as far as Nelson was concerned.


    Of everyone in the room only Naymond was smiling.


    After a while, Nelson nodded. He accepted the better shame.


    Children are easier, Melmarc concluded. And what he meant by children were people his age. You could always trust a bully to bully you until things made them stop. You could always trust a boy to have a crush on someone.


    As diverse and annoying as they could be, they were true to it. But here was a series of actions he could not make heads and tails of.


    Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe adults were just as simple and easy to understand. Maybe he was the one that made it complicated. He¡¯d rarely had extended interactions with adults outside of professional settings. Teachers. Principals.


    The only adults he knew well were Dorthna and his parents. And all three of them were a sharp contrast to the people in front of him. Dorthna was jovial and friendly and always there when he had to be. Melmarc¡¯s dad was mostly quiet and his words meant exactly what they were. And his mom was all love when she was around.


    Naymond was Melmarc¡¯s first complicated adult and he¡¯d always thought the [Sage] was an outlier. Even Alfa was always fed up with him.


    The adults Melmarc knew always had their life together. These ones, however, seemed to be all over the place. Indecisive. Perhaps he was expecting too much from them.


    ¡°Moving on I say we find another space in the wall and blow a hole in it,¡± Jed offered.


    ¡°We¡¯ll draw attention to ourselves,¡± Clinton said, looking down at the [Damned] on the ground. ¡°If these things are anything like the ones we fought, I don¡¯t want anything this large chasing after me.¡±


    ¡°So we move quickly.¡± Jed shrugged. ¡°The only issue we could possibly have is Jude¡¯s rib, but he should be good by then.¡±


    Nelson looked at Melmarc at the mention of Jude¡¯s rib but said nothing.


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Naymond said. ¡°They aren¡¯t that difficult to deal with.¡±


    Beside him, Claire frowned. ¡°Last time I checked, you almost died to one.¡±


    ¡°Accumulated damage,¡± Naymond said with a nonchalant shrug. ¡°Also, people like me aren¡¯t meant to survive alone in a portal. We work best with teams.¡±


    ¡°So we hit them hard and we move,¡± Jed said. ¡°Your skill put down all those babies, Clinton. So I¡¯m sure we¡¯ve got the firepower if it comes to a fighting situation.¡±


    ¡°Not with the kid.¡± Clinton shook his head.


    ¡°Marc¡¯s already proven he can handle his own,¡± Jed pointed out. ¡°I say that should be the least of our worries. What do you say, Marc? Scared of a fight?¡±


    By all accounts it was a stupid question. Still, Melmarc answered it.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Jed returned his attention to Clinton. ¡°See.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± Melmarc interjected before Clinton could say anything. ¡°What if it doesn¡¯t work?¡±


    ¡°What if what specifically doesn¡¯t work?¡± Jed asked.


    ¡°The explosives,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°What if they don¡¯t work?¡±


    Melmarc had a strong feeling it might not. It was just a feeling. The entire ruins of Caldath was exactly that, in ruins. But nothing was ever out of place. every rubble, every broken wall. Even as rundown as it was, no matter the force any of the [Damned] used to hit the wall, the best he¡¯d seen happen was the building shake or dust fall.


    By all accounts, with what he¡¯d done and been through, at least one building should¡¯ve crumbled to the ground. But nothing like that had happened.


    ¡°Trust us,¡± Jed said. ¡°We can blow a hole in the wall. If we can¡¯t, then we¡¯ll take the hole that¡¯s already there.¡± He looked down at the [Damned] in the room. ¡°If they¡¯re all armed with shovels and baking pans, we should be fine.¡±


    It seemed he had paid attention to some of the other corpses in the building.


    ¡°They are not,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°The ones in this area are armed with simple tools and farming implements. But not the ones at the castle wall.¡±


    ¡°Yea,¡± Naymond said, supporting him. ¡°I saw one with a sword once. It was long and sharp. Could take our heads in one swing.¡±


    ¡°The ones we faced have some kind of sharp tongue,¡± Clinton said. ¡°Pointed, could pierce a hole in a person. Do these ones have that?¡±


    Claire touched her neck softly where she¡¯d had an injury.


    ¡°No,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°But they have quick movements. Faster than the one you guys faced. They¡¯re strong, too.¡±


    Jed looked down at the [Damned] with a new expression.


    ¡°They also move quickly,¡± Naymond smiled impishly. ¡°You could blink and be dead so I advise keeping your eyes peeled at all times.¡±


    ¡°Is that how you got got?¡± Jed gave him a mocking smile. ¡°Eyes weren¡¯t peeled.¡±


    ¡°Oh definitely not.¡± Naymond made a dramatic gesture, dismissing the implication. ¡°It was a combination of unpeeled eyes and really shitty combat capabilities. You see, I¡¯m more of a desk Gifted. I¡¯m that guy that sits at his desk playing solitaire while pretending to work.¡±


    The smile fell from Jed¡¯s face at the realization that he couldn¡¯t get Naymond with his words.


    ¡°From what you¡¯re saying,¡± Clinton jumped in, ¡°I take believe it should be safe to assume that the ones at the castle are for combat. Which would make these ones¡­¡±


    ¡°For support,¡± Claire finished with a shiver.


    Melmarc had already considered that. But having it said out loud made him realize something else. Well, ¡®realize¡¯ wasn¡¯t really the word. He¡¯d already assumed it somewhere at the back of his mind, he¡¯d just not given it any real focus.


    If he¡¯d been fighting the domestic [Damned] ever since, and the ones at the castle walls were for combat, that meant one thing.


    They¡¯ll be faster and stronger.


    Could he handle faster and stronger? How would he react to a sword flying at his head? It was one thing to go against weapons and it was another to go against weapons. A bread pan or a spatula or a chair used as a weapon swung at you was different from having a sword swung at you.


    You¡¯ve already been shot at. Twice. You¡¯ll be fine.


    The moment the thought filled his mind, Melmarc sighed. He already knew what would come next.


    Dissonant.


    ¡°And there goes any future attempts at a pep talk,¡± he muttered to himself.


    Clinton turned to him. ¡°What was that?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    He just wanted this entire thing to be over with so that he could go back home. He really wished he hadn¡¯t put his mind to it. Thinking deeply about what was about to happen and who their opponents were was doing more harm than good for his mind.


    In self defense he¡¯d sparred a good number of times with unarmed opponents, but never with someone using a weapon. The only self defense he¡¯d ever learnt when it came to facing an opponent with a knife was simple.


    Turn and run. And if he couldn¡¯t, then he had to accept that he was going to get cut, probably stabbed.


    Melmarc could picture himself facing off against a knife and surviving with terrible injuries. But a sword? His mind pulled up the sword he¡¯d seen attached to one of the [Damned] at the castle walls. It was almost as tall as him.


    A fight against that was going to be violent and terrible. And with the numbers he had seen at the castle walls and the possibility of how many they would find within the wall, it might as well be a small battle they were about to fight.


    ¡°Are you good now?¡± Clinton asked Naymond.


    Naymond shook out his leg, tested his limbs. Even in his severely tattered and blood stained suit, he still somehow managed to strike a regal visage. Like a prince who¡¯d gone for a ball and had gotten into a very terrible scuttle and won.


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°Give me another fifteen minutes and I¡¯ll be telling you the color of the stars and which way Canopus trots and the color of his walking stick.¡±


    Clinton paused, confused. Then he looked at Melmarc.


    Melmarc shrugged. Why¡¯s he looking at me? I don¡¯t speak Sage.


    Clinton must¡¯ve misunderstood the reason Melmarc shrugged because he asked, ¡°What¡¯s a Canopus?¡±


    Melmarc knew that one. Delano had said something about it once.


    ¡°A star¡­ I think,¡± he said, not entirely sure. It was either a star or a constellation. Constellations were stars, though¡­ right? A group of stars?


    Melmarc shrugged, more to himself this time. ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°Is it important?¡± Clinton asked. In the corner Nelson leaned against the wall. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure the man was a hundred percent yet.


    ¡°I saw stars,¡± Jed pointed out. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s how we can locate the castle.¡±


    Melmarc knew how to locate the castle without looking at the sky. Was that how Naymond kept track of the castle? What else did he keep track of using the stars? And how had he even thought to use the stars when they were in a portal?


    Just how enigmatic was the [Sage] class?


    Then a thought came to him. Something Naymond had said to him once upon a time.


    ¡°Take that as lesson thirty-two,¡± Naymond had said about how he¡¯d predicted David Swan¡¯s reaction to seeing him at the beginning of Melmarc¡¯s mentorship program. ¡°The fact that you¡¯re with a Gifted doesn¡¯t mean that everything you find slightly improbable is explained away as a skill.¡±


    Maybe the star thing had nothing to do with being a [Sage]. Maybe it was just experience. Maybe it was¡ª


    Melmarc caught movement on Naymond¡¯s face. A barely concealed smile. The [Sage] was amused, entertained.


    Melmarc sighed and his thoughts on the matter scrambled. It had simply been an expression, like being hungry enough to eat a horse. None of it mattered. Naymond¡¯s amusement was in the fact that they were taking him seriously.


    Their eyes met and Naymond winked at him.


    Note to self, Melmarc thought. Learn when to take Naymond seriously.


    In his defense, he wouldn¡¯t have gotten caught up in it if Clinton hadn¡¯t been the one to take Naymond seriously first.


    ¡°Well,¡± Clinton said after a while, turning to Naymond. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll just let you lead the way. Nelson, get Jude.¡±


    ¡°Oh, fun,¡± Naymond said cheerily. ¡°His thirty minutes can start counting.¡±


    As they all turned for the door, another thought worried Melmarc. They were about to head into something dangerous, something he now truly understood was dangerous. So dangerous that he¡¯d estimated it to be a mini battle.


    So why am I excited?


    ¡°Mr. Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc turned to Naymond, realizing he¡¯d stopped walking for a moment.


    ¡°You coming?¡± Naymond asked.


    Melmarc nodded. Still, he checked his interface before he continued, pulling up a specific skill.


    [Secrecy (Mastery 11.08%)]


    The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.


    [Remaining Uses: 1/2]


    Just as he¡¯d expected. He hadn¡¯t gotten the second charge. Which reconfirmed that it only regenerated once he had used up all the charges, the same way [Rings of Saturn] worked. It was also already past ten percent mastery but he hadn¡¯t been offered an evolution.


    Isn¡¯t it growing a little to fast?


    He¡¯d gained the skill at two percent. If he added the three percent permanent addition from being an [August Intruder]¡ªwhatever that truly was¡ªthat would mean he¡¯d started at five percent. If he added the two percent quest bonus that meant he¡¯d started at seven percent. At eleven percent, if he removed the two percent bonus then that left him at nine percent.


    Four percent growth in such a short time was a fast growth rate. But all together, he was almost at ten percent, regardless. Anyone that found out about this would be astonished. Melmarc knew [August Intruder] was part of the growth and would only apply at the beginning of gaining a skill, but it was still phenomenal growth.


    At this rate he couldn¡¯t picture his growth potential being anything less than an S-rank. Too many things were happening to him too quickly and he needed to settle down and unpack them. But now was not the time.


    ¡°Just a moment,¡± he told Naymond who was already out the door.


    He twirled his hand a little, activating a ring of mana around his wrist.


    [You have used Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 0/2]


    Melmarc turned and threw the ring of mana out the window. It burst into a dome somewhere in the distance, not that he paid attention to it.


    This was good. The last thing he needed was to get into a battle and use it once just to find himself waiting for it to recharge.


    Again, the thought of getting into battle sent a touch of anticipation running through him.


    What is happening to me? He thought, not for the first time.


    If he ran into Veebee again, the creature was going to have to answer some questions.


    For now, he turned to his interface as it popped up again.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Base mastery is at 10%]


    [Secrecy (Mastery 10.01%)(12.01%)].


    [Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?]


    Acquire new skill, Melmarc thought. Preferably something simpler.


    [Please know that you can renege on this decision.]


    ¡­


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    Melmarc stared at the notification and started walking towards the exit. He definitely wasn¡¯t going to say no to it. At the exit, he peeked out. Naymond and the others were a good distance away.


    For now, he would just take a glance at the options as he caught up to them. He could do the selection during the journey. Hopefully there would be no pain.


    Yes.


    A moment of discomfort filled Melmarc as he thought the word. A small pain pressed down on his stomach as if one of the [Damned] had kicked him in the gut.


    Melmarc groaned in pain and caught himself from falling with a hand on the wall.


    He held back his discomfort, tried to keep it from his face. This wasn¡¯t fair. He really didn¡¯t want another contaminated skill.


    [Anomaly detected]


    [Due to detected and resolved anomaly, re-calculations have been made]


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of supporting skills has been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No].


    Even though he knew the pain was done with, Melmarc was a little worried to respond. Still, there wasn¡¯t really an option here. He needed all the advantages he could get.


    Before he replied, however, he pulled up his interface, now walking a few paces behind the others.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Vitality of the Drunk (Mastery 02.09%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    [Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]


    Skills


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 12.89%)(14.89%)]


    The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back to them as information


    [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 11.93%)(13.93%)]


    Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +1.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.


    [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 13.93%)(15.93%)]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around they¡¯re body and can attack with it.


    [Secrecy (Mastery¡­ Pending evolution)]


    The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.


    Perks


    [Optimum Existence (02.00%)]


    The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.


    Stats


    [Agility 4, Balance 6, Mental 3, Mana 5, Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Accuracy 3]


    Traits


    [Calculating¡­]


    Melmarc stared at the new pieces of information. He had two new sections. Perks had [Optimum Existence] which wasn¡¯t really a surprise. Though he was surprised that while it had a percentage, it didn¡¯t have the word ¡®mastery¡¯ next to it. It most likely meant it wasn¡¯t something he could grow through understanding.


    I guess only [EP]s work on it, he thought, turning a corner that led to the exit out of the building where the others were waiting for him outside.


    The fact that his mastery wasn¡¯t showing for [Secrecy] was self-explanatory. So he moved his attention to traits. It was still calculating. That section would help him better understand what was happening to him. What dissonance was all about. Why he had so desperately wanted to punish Jude. And why he was feeling anticipation at the thought of fighting a large number of deadly [Damned] instead of just fear.


    He really hoped it wouldn¡¯t keep calculating until he got [Optimum Existence] to ten percent, or worse, a hundred percent, because that would take forever.


    Now that Melmarc had the information he needed and was reasonably calmed, he pulled his interface back to what was currently important.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of supporting skills has been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No].


    Yes.


    The notification changed and Melmarc stared at the new one. His jaw dropped in confusion at what he saw.


    ¡°What the hell?!¡± he hissed.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, based on your mastery of skill Secrecy you have proven efficient in 0 skills. Would you like to evolve skill Secrecy?]


    [Yes/No].

 SIXTY-SEVEN: Shades of Perception

    It had been a while since Melmarc was confused. Worried. At least not by himself.


    Internally, he was always confused. At the new way his mind worked. The way there were too many ideas yet he focused on a singular one. His recent insistence on punishing Jude for his actions. His observation of Naymond playing a role in the insistence on his punishment of Jude. His acceptance to negotiate on the punishment but only with Clinton.


    Melmarc was constantly confused by his mind. But not by much of the things that happened outside his mind.


    Like his interface.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, based on your mastery of skill Secrecy you have proven efficient in 0 skills. Would you like to evolve skill Secrecy?]


    [Yes/No].


    Melmarc stared at the notification of his interface for the third time with worry.


    It had been a while since he and the others had left the ruined building. They¡¯d walked ever since, never hurrying, never rushing. He¡¯d told them that they could get to the castle quickly if they went at a running pace, so he knew they were aware of it.


    So there had to be a reason they¡¯d insisted on walking. In his mind he could pick a few. They could argue that Claire was a healer and would not be able to catch up with their average speed or that they wouldn¡¯t want to tire her out. They could argue a similar reason for Naymond.


    Melmarc could easily counter both arguments, though. He could carry Claire while Nelson could carry Naymond. The tanker was definitely big enough¡ªand arguably strong enough¡ªto not be hindered by Naymond¡¯s weight.


    You could also carry Naymond while Nelson carried Claire, Melmarc thought.


    There was already a steady answer to that thought. He could, but he would rather not. He just couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that it would be the most annoying running experience he would ever have.


    Naymond would have things to say and he would say them. Some of them would leave Melmarc trying not to be confused. Some of them might even end up confusing him. Sending him into a different line of thought wasn¡¯t something that was beyond Naymond¡¯s ability. How the man talked a conversation into a loop hole only to leave you being the only one in the hole was as impressive as it was annoying.


    So, no. He would rather not carry Naymond.


    It left only one logical and strategic reason for their casual stroll in the dark night. Jude.


    The stroll was most likely Clinton¡¯s idea. Whether he¡¯d given it as some kind of command while Melmarc had been hanging back in the building or something that they¡¯d simply fallen into because he wasn¡¯t running, was something Melmarc didn¡¯t feel the need to figure out.


    Ultimately, it seemed unimportant.


    The deal was for Jude to be wounded for thirty minutes, he thought. Not for thirty minutes of fighting.


    So, ultimately, this did not breach the agreement. If anything, it was a smart move from Clinton. Melmarc couldn¡¯t fault a leader that took advantage of any loop hole they could find. It was an odd thing to note since he¡¯d never been one for identifying leaders in groups and working with it.


    Returning his attention to his interface, he frowned at the notification. Why did he have no skill he was proving efficient in? Was it because of [Secrecy] itself or was it something else?


    He¡¯d never heard of a Gifted who¡¯d gotten no alternative skill when they experienced a skill evolution.


    Did it make his case unique? After all, he¡¯d also never heard of an August Intruder, either.


    And Players are intruders people aren¡¯t supposed to know about, apparently.


    What was the possibility that there were actually people who¡¯d experienced an absence of alternative skill? It wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d be happy to announce that they didn¡¯t have one. They¡¯d just choose the skill evolution that was left to them. And if they were never offered alternative skills, they¡¯d just keep evolving the skill they had. To the rest of the world, they would just be Delvers and Gifted who¡¯d chosen to specialize.


    The night was illuminated by the stars in the sky. There was a moon, but while it was out and in the sky, it couldn¡¯t really be called bright. It was full, and bleak. Like a dull white ball. But the few stars where bright enough.


    It was an odd thing.


    It¡¯s a portal. Things walk around with bread pans for hands.


    So with the light of the stars, the entire group walked, likely giving Jude a chance to heal. As for Melmarc¡¯s interface, he only had one answer for it.


    Yes.


    If he was going to fight, it would be stupid not to fight with the best he had. And an evolved skill was definitely better than the state before it.


    [Skill Secrecy has evolved.]


    Melmarc stared at the notification as flickers of conversation happened two steps ahead of him. He¡¯d hung back because of this. And while the others had checked on him with a few quick glances¡ªincluding Naymond¡ªno one had called him to join them.


    He didn¡¯t think he was being ostracized because of anything he¡¯d done. If anything, they were just giving him some space for some other reason. He knew this because Naymond was doing the same. If Naymond hadn¡¯t been a part of the silent glances, then he would¡¯ve believed he was being ostracized.


    As for the notification, it surprised Melmarc. He¡¯d expected more words. Gaining a new skill usually had some kind of congratulatory effect in his short experience. But here he was simply being told the skill had evolved. No congratulations. No sense of achievement.


    Anti-climactic was the best definition for it.


    You have no idea what exactly the interface is, Melmarc thought. Were you expecting a parade?


    Melmarc shook his head and moved the notification along with a thought. He was glad to find more information.


    [Secrecy (Mastery 10.01%)(12.01%)].


    Upon conclusion of [Rings of Saturn], focused mana is unbound and released


    You cannot use other skills within area of skill¡¯s effect.


    Three blasts before every cooldown will be available.


    +30% damage if effect is applied within a sentient life form.


    Gifted has partial control of extremities.


    Melmarc frowned at the last line.


    There it was again. Control of extremities. It was the one part of [Knowledge is Power] he hadn¡¯t figured out since it had reached ten percent mastery.


    Still, one thing he was debatably certain of from seeing it on [Secrecy] was that it had nothing to do with the extremities of his body. So how did he control the extremities of the skill?


    One thing was certain, he needed practice. And he knew just how to get it. But that left him with a tricky situation.


    To practice the skill, he would need a test subject. If he waited until morning, he would be able to practice on a [Damned]. It would be killing two birds with one stone. He would understand the skill better and gain more [EP].


    But was he willing to make a detour for such a reason?


    I could always just ask them if they could help me out, he thought.


    But it would delay the entire thing. Melmarc didn¡¯t see it as any kind of delay. Caldath had waited twelve days, surely it could wait a little longer.


    Twelve days to you. Not even up to a day to them.


    Melmarc groaned. He needed to practice the extremities portion of the evolution. An extra blast of the skill was a nice inclusion but that was easy to understand. There was no point thinking much on it.


    What he needed was the prac¡ª


    Melmarc paused. Then he ran a hand through his hair.


    ¡°You good?¡±


    He looked up to find Naymond looking back at him and frowned.


    ¡°Is there a reason you¡¯re on his back?" he asked, staring at the [Sage] being piggybacked by Nelson.


    He looked too comfortable in that position for a grown man.


    ¡°I told him you¡¯d forgive him for tripping if he carried me,¡± Naymond replied with a smile. ¡°He¡¯s really a softy on the inside.¡±


    Nelson grumbled something incoherent and Claire patted him on the shoulder in consolation.


    Melmarc cocked a quizzical brow. He couldn¡¯t help the action.


    ¡°What?¡± Naymond whined. ¡°My legs hurt.¡±


    ¡°I need practice,¡± Melmarc blurted before he could stop himself.


    Practice involved inconveniencing another group and Naymond had proven himself to be a good mediator. Perhaps he could find a way to get them to allow him practice on a [Damned] in a controlled area without them feeling inconvenienced.


    Naymond¡¯s expression turned serious at his words.


    ¡°Practice on who specifically?¡± Naymond asked.


    Melmarc felt Nelson bristle.


    Naymond patted the Delver on the shoulder gently. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Nel. I¡¯ll do my best to save you on this subject.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Not on them. Obviously.¡±


    Naymond let out a low whistle. ¡°Thank the gods for that. I swear it would¡¯ve been awkward having that conversation.¡±


    The others looked back at him with varying expressions. Even Jude. There was confusion. Worry, too. Claire looked at him as a doctor would a patient that wasn¡¯t responding to treatment.


    But at the heart of all the expressions was wariness.


    Melmarc frowned. Naymond was making him look weird.


    Maybe getting a mediator was not the best idea. Everything that was happening to him was still new. But while Melmarc felt he needed help, training wheels, so to speak, maybe it wasn¡¯t the best idea to latch on to one so quickly.


    Not all negotiations need mediators.


    Once again, the practicality of his mind worried him. But he didn¡¯t let it bother him. Instead, he thought of what he could do or say to get what he wanted. It wasn¡¯t like he was in a hurry. They still had until the sun came up.


    ¡°Is it dangerous?¡± Naymond asked, careful. ¡°This practical.¡±


    Melmarc blinked. ¡°I woul¡ª¡±


    ¡°What the hell?¡± Jed swore.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Jude hissed. He''d been looking up. ¡°My eye!¡±


    It was afternoon.


    Melmarc hated the disorientation that came with the change. It was easier to deal with when he simply woke up to it. But blinking to find it was annoying.


    ¡°So it¡¯s not dangerous?¡± Naymond asked. If he was fazed by the change, he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Which means you can test it on me?¡±


    That wasn¡¯t what Melmarc was going for but Naymond was right. But did Naymond have any active skill he could test it with? He¡¯d never seen Naymond use an active skill.


    There was that thing he did to Nelson, he thought. Whatever that was.


    Melmarc was suddenly curious. [Knowledge is Power] danced at the edge of his mind, and he¡¯d almost simply activated it. It had taken him a moment of realization before he¡¯d stopped himself. He was glad to have realized it just in time.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± he said.


    ¡°It¡¯s tied to the [Damned],¡± Naymond answered.


    Melmarc blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Sunrise,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, but the nighttime here doesn¡¯t have a fixed length.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. It was kind of odd talking to a grown man on another man¡¯s back. He was fairly certain there was something to Naymond being on the man¡¯s back. He was beginning to doubt it was just because he wanted to mess with Nelson.


    He had no reason to, after all.


    Like you know the reasons he does anything he does.


    ¡°I noticed,¡± Naymond continued, getting the attention of the other Delvers, ¡°that the sun comes up when one of the [Damned] wakes up.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think this falls under the category of coming up,¡± Claire said.


    ¡°Yea,¡± Jed grumbled. ¡°The thing just popped out of nowhere.¡±


    ¡°Bright and annoying,¡± Jude said. He had a hand to his face. Standing behind him, Melmarc had no idea what he was doing.


    Seeing as he¡¯d complained about his eye when the sun appeared, Melmarc guessed he was likely rubbing his eyes.


    ¡°Now, I¡¯m not sure how exactly it works,¡± Naymond continued. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s the first [Damned] to wake up that its linked to or a specific [Damned].¡±


    ¡°What if they all wake up at the same time?¡± Melmarc hadn¡¯t seen a sleeping [Damned] before. Then again, he had always done his best to sneak off into a safe building somewhere and avoid them.


    The last thing he wanted to do was discover that they could see in the dark. A fight with one in the dark night would kill him for sure.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    It took Melmarc a while to realize that Naymond still hadn¡¯t said anything. And everybody was looking at the [Sage] except Nelson who still had him on his back.


    Naymond paused, looking at everyone. ¡°I actually hadn¡¯t thought of that.¡±


    Expressions changed to surprise all around and Naymond shrugged.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know it all, you know?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Claire said. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ the way you talk¡­¡±


    ¡°The way I talk?¡±


    Clinton nodded. ¡°It¡¯s confident and misleading. It¡¯s easy to think there¡¯s nothing you haven¡¯t thought of.¡±


    Melmarc knew the feeling.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Naymond continued, returning his attention to only Melmarc. ¡°You wanted to say something before the sun so rudely interrupted you.¡±


    Melmarc expected to pause, to take a moment to try and remember it. He didn¡¯t. What he¡¯d been about to say came to him smoothly. Maybe a little too smoothly.


    ¡°I was going to ask if I could borrow your skill,¡± he said.


    Jed almost tripped up. It earned him a confused look from Claire.


    ¡°Kid¡¯s really a Faker?¡± he asked, looking at Naymond.


    Melmarc was confused. ¡°I told you I was a [Faker].¡±


    ¡°I thought you were just lying and your teacher was just backing you up.¡±


    What the hell?


    What kind of kids did Jed know that he assumed they¡¯d lie for no reason? It only made sense that he was lying if he was a Skin Walker. And seeing as they¡¯d accepted that he was not, he had no reason to lie.


    ¡°Actually,¡± Claire said, sheepish. ¡°Me, too.¡±


    Clinton raised a hand. ¡°Same.¡±


    A groan came from the side and Melmarc turned to it. Jude had his hand raised, groaning in pain. Jed was currently assisting him to walk.


    ¡°Same,¡± Jude managed to say.


    ¡°Big guy thinks the same.¡± Naymond patted Nelson on the shoulder.


    Melmarc thought it was odd that Jude had been the one to shoot him but Nelson was the one acting like he¡¯d done the unforgivable.


    At this point Melmarc was almost walking side by side with the rest of them. If they didn¡¯t think he was a [Faker], then what did they think he was?


    ¡°Why would you think that?¡± he asked, doing his best to ignore his urge to practice. Oddly enough, it was working.


    He¡¯d expected his urge to practice to end up being one of those things he wouldn¡¯t have been able to shake off until he¡¯d sorted it out.


    ¡°For starters,¡± Clinton said, ¡°I felt you just wanted to keep your class a secret.¡±


    Under normal circumstances Melmarc would¡¯ve understood that. But that would¡¯ve applied if they believed he was a [Faker] and thought he wanted to keep it a secret. Most people hid their classes for one of three reasons. Either because they had the [Faker] class, they thought their class would be useless and thus they would be undermined because of it, or they thought their class was a big deal and didn¡¯t want all the attention.


    ¡°Personally, I was expecting you to be a [Mage],¡± Jed said.


    Melmarc was only getting more confused. ¡°Why?¡±


    They were far down the meadow now. More and more ruined buildings were coming into view and they currently walked past one of them. The team watched it absently as they passed it.


    Melmarc gave it a simple glance. It was the building where he¡¯d taken a blow to the chest. It had been so long ago. His hand touched his chest.


    So long ago.


    ¡°Well,¡± Jed said, looking away from the building. ¡°I figured you had to be someone important if The Blight was calling in favors and his wife was a panicked mess. The government doesn¡¯t play with their [Mages]. All the extra secrecy about it was another give away.¡±


    ¡°I could¡¯ve been an S-rank,¡± Melmarc pointed out. They were past the building now, on to the next as they walked.


    ¡°I actually thought you were an S-rank [Mage].¡± Clinton put his hands in the pockets of his pants and shrugged. Then he took them out almost immediately, as if it was a habit he was fighting.


    Claire chuckled. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Did you see his wife when we arrived?¡± Clinton shook his head. ¡°She looked like she was standing between life and death and death was being a little too chummy. The government doesn¡¯t play with a Gifted with the [Mage] class. But S-rank, too? They would have more than her job to set an example if they could.¡±


    ¡°What about me?¡± Naymond asked, pointing at himself.


    Jed looked at him. ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t tell you guys anything about me, either.¡±


    ¡°You were probably unimportant.¡±


    ¡°That was mean.¡± Naymond turned to Clinton. ¡°I¡¯m not the only one that heard it, right?¡±


    Jed smirked. He probably thought he¡¯d finally gotten one on Naymond.


    ¡°He¡¯s not entirely wrong.¡± Claire was still looking around, studying the buildings as much as she could while they walked. ¡°Is that sapphire?¡±


    Melmarc looked in the general direction. He caught a hint of blue at the top of the building. It sparkled very slightly just where one side of the ceiling had caved in. On the northside. Was it north?


    He frowned. The cardinal points weren¡¯t his strength. He knew them as easily as everyone else did. But place him in an open field and he wouldn¡¯t know north from south. Back on earth he knew them, though. He had taught himself to learn where was where with the direction of the sun.


    The sun rose in the east and set in the west. So he knew where the points were in the morning and in the evening. In the afternoon when the sun was at its peak, and in the night when the moon replaced it, he was uneducated on the directions again.


    Here, the sun didn¡¯t rise. It simply appeared at its peak. And who was to say it set where it was supposed to set?


    ¡°But she mentioned me,¡± Naymond said. ¡°That has to count for something.¡±


    ¡°It did.¡± It was Nelson who spoke this time. ¡°It made us think you are the reason she¡¯s in whatever mess she¡¯s in.¡±


    Naymond paused, thoughtful. ¡°I guess that¡¯s as right as it¡¯s wrong. So I forgive her.¡±


    Clinton gave him a surprised look but said nothing.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Jed continued. ¡°I guess Alfa¡¯s really as nice as everyone says if she¡¯s jumping through loops and having her husband call in favors just to get you out of here.¡±


    Naymond snorted as if amused. ¡°Definitely.¡±


    Dissonant.


    That was surprising. The [Sage] didn¡¯t believe Alfa had done this out of some goodness of her heart? Why was that?


    Because of dad?


    Melmarc remembered how Naymond had spoken of his parents. His dad to be specific. He had spoken of him as if he¡¯d spoken of someone truly powerful. Unmatched. Was Alfa also aware of who his father was?


    She hadn¡¯t acted like he was anything special when he¡¯d arrived at the precinct, though. And she hadn¡¯t given him much in the way of attention when Naymond had been giving him menial tasks.


    If she¡¯d known, would she have allowed him go on the delivery mission?


    Melmarc doubted it. Somehow it didn¡¯t speak to what he thought of her. Naymond had once made a comment about knowing who Melmarc was when he¡¯d told him that they should start addressing themselves by their surnames.


    He didn¡¯t know who I was when I joined, too, Melmarc concluded.


    Naymond being who he was, Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised that he¡¯d found out and had still sent him out for the mission. But Alfa wouldn¡¯t have sent him if she¡¯d found out. Which meant¡­


    She didn¡¯t know.


    Even teachers treated students with important parents as if they were fragile eggs in high school. He doubted Alfa would¡¯ve treated him like some random mentee if she¡¯d known. That pointed in one direction.


    She found out after we got here.


    Then she¡¯d called in favors or had her husband call in favors. And here they were.


    Who are you, dad?


    What had Naymond called him, again? An Oath. Melmarc had known the title most of his life, but it seemed he hadn¡¯t truly understood it. Even with the snippets of explanation Naymond had given him, there was still much he didn¡¯t know. Naymond had even admitted to not knowing much.


    He scratched his head.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite the thoughtful expression you have.¡±


    Melmarc turned and found Clinton looking at him.


    ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t be thinking too much about anything,¡± Clinton continued. ¡°At least not about anything in the portal. We¡¯ll get you out in perfect condition. You have nothing to worry about on that. Just point us in the right direction until we get to the wall, and we¡¯ll take it from there.¡±


    ¡°Smooth sailing,¡± Claire said. ¡°You can trust us.¡±


    Naymond nodded on Nelson¡¯s back. ¡°I agree. They all feel like trustworthy people.¡± He paused. ¡°Not Jude, though. Jude looks more like he¡¯s going to get you home in more pieces than one.¡± He looked down at Nelson, patted the large man on the shoulder. ¡°If Jude starts moving funny, shoot him.¡±


    Something about Naymond¡¯s words didn¡¯t sit right with Melmarc. It was nothing out of the ordinary for the [Sage], but there was something off about it.


    Whatever it was, Naymond needed to stop it.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± Melmarc said as amiably as he could muster, yet he noted the neutrality in his voice.


    ¡°Yes, Mr. Lockwood?¡±


    ¡°Stop it.¡±


    His voice drew attention to him. Everyone looked at him. Even Jude. They all stopped in their tracks, surprise coloring their faces.


    Jed turned to Naymond. ¡°What¡¯s the relationship between the both of you, again?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the surrogate mother hen,¡± Naymond answered smoothly.


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc held back a frown. Was this what his life was going to be now? Listening to his mind call out any lie he heard, even the ones he obviously knew were lies? That sounded like it was going to be stressful.


    He hoped it would change as he increased the completion of [Optimum Existence].


    ¡°So you¡¯re saying the kid always talks like this?¡± Jed asked. ¡°Cold and collected?¡±


    Naymond nodded. ¡°Can be a stick up the butt, right?¡±


    ¡°And you just put up with it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t put up with it. I was doing something wrong and he stopped me. It¡¯s really that simple. You might not have noticed but I do the wrong things a lot.¡±


    Jed rubbed his jaw. ¡°I guess that makes sense.¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s been relatively normal since we left the building,¡± Claire pointed out.


    Clinton agreed. ¡°He was actually different when we met him, and when we were in the building. And you kind of just jumped between us in the conversation back there.¡±


    Was there some kind of tension building? Melmarc wondered. Were they about to start suspecting him for something else again?


    He wouldn¡¯t hesitate to strike first this time, though. Being stuck in a repeating cycle of suspicion and having to prove himself wasn¡¯t something he was going to be caught up in.


    Jed¡¯s eyes narrowed at Naymond. ¡°Is he some important kid?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what was about to happen. I guess its better to be an important kid than some new kind of monster.


    ¡°Is he some rich kid,¡± Jed pressed. ¡°Are you his butler.¡±


    Naymond snorted in amusement. ¡°I wish. But, no. Not his butler.¡±


    And just like that, whatever tension Melmarc had been feeling washed away. But there was a take away from this that he was happy to note. Whatever had been happening to him wasn¡¯t taking over him entirely.


    At some point he had been acting like a normal boy his age. That was good. Maybe whatever was happening to him because of [Optimum Existence] was like a skill, triggering under certain conditions.


    As the conversation lulled back into silence, they passed more buildings. Melmarc recognized most of them. He¡¯d spent the night in some of these buildings. Fought in some. Run from some.


    Most of the buildings here would have the corpse of one or two of the [Damned] in them. But he hadn¡¯t limited killing them to inside buildings.


    They passed another building. This one was a bungalow, and while it had walls on this side of it¡ªthe front side¡ªMelmarc knew that the entire back wall had been blown out. He¡¯d met it like that. And on that side of the house was a corpse.


    [Rings of Saturn] had unarguably been the best thing to happen to him since entering the ruins.


    ¡°So I can I?¡± Melmarc found himself asking as they walked.


    ¡°Can you what?¡± Clinton asked. ¡°If it¡¯s about trusting us, I assure you that you can. You have my word.¡±


    Melmarc bristled at that. It was the oddest sensation. He had no reason to trust the man¡¯s word. Not after everything that had happened. But he did.


    Why? He thought.


    The answer came to him almost immediately.


    Because if he breaks his word, you will punish him for it.


    Melmarc cringed at his own thoughts. He¡¯d never felt so arrogant before. He would punish the man for it. How?


    I¡¯ll find a way, he thought. He¡¯s just B-rank. It¡¯s not like he¡¯s A-rank or something.


    Melmarc would have to talk to his mom and dad about all this. Whatever he was going through, it was definitely nothing that happened to a Gifted normally.


    Nothing I¡¯ve been going through is normal.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think sixteen-year-old boys got shot at, fell into a portal, and had some cute looking chibi with a terrifying mouth touch their chest and talk about them rising to power. Nothing that was happening to him was normal.


    ¡°Not that,¡± Naymond said to Clinton, then turned to Melmarc. ¡°Sure you can.¡±


    It was an incomplete sentence, but Melmarc knew he¡¯d been given permission. So he activated [Knowledge is Power].


    ¡°Brace for impact,¡± Naymond said.


    [You have activated Knowledge is Power]


    Everyone stiffened at his words, growing suddenly alert. Melmarc caught a few of them reaching for their gun, even Nelson with Naymond on his shoulder.


    The static white of mana burst out of Melmarc.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Clinton asked, gun held up at the ready. He moved his hands, aim changing, head on a swivel. ¡°What¡¯s coming?¡±


    ¡°So sorry for the alarm,¡± Naymond apologized. ¡°Something¡¯s coming, it¡¯s just not that bad. I¡¯ve just gotten used to calling it out like that.¡±


    ¡°So what¡¯s coming?¡± Jed asked, lowering his gun. He¡¯d raised a side arm, a simple handgun.


    ¡°A feeling,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°For me it¡¯s a bad one. Very uncomfortable. But you get used to it, though.¡±


    Everyone waited, maybe two seconds.


    Clinton turned to him. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any¡ª¡±


    The blast of mana came back, phasing through them, returning to Melmarc.


    Clinton leveled a frown on Naymond. ¡°Can you explain to me why I feel like someone took my wallet when I definitely didn¡¯t bring a wallet?¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Melmarc apologized, remembering how he¡¯d felt the first time someone had told him what his skill had felt like.


    It didn¡¯t necessarily make him feel like a thief, but it did make using the skill feel wrong in some way. Not enough to make him stop using it, though.


    In front of him, everyone¡¯s indicator was a soft green. Jed¡¯s was grey and so was Jude¡¯s. Melmarc had half-expected Jude¡¯s to be red. It said something he wasn¡¯t sure of that the man¡¯s was grey.


    One again, he wondered what criteria [Knowledge is Power] used to place people in their different category. Was it based on how he saw them or based on how they saw him? Or was it based on something else entirely. He saw Dorthna as a friend after all, as family, and he was certain Uncle Dorthna saw him the say way. Yet his indicator had been red with a hue of grey.


    ¡°Was that you?¡± Clinton asked.


    Melmarc nodded, putting the notification he¡¯d gotten on the conclusion on hold. Although something didn¡¯t sit right with him. He knew all the skills he¡¯d gotten, and [World of Insight] wasn¡¯t one of them.


    He was getting itchy. A chance to see another [Sage] skill was suddenly very interesting. But Melmarc doubted it was really an urge to see another [Sage] skill. He was more likely interested in seeing another of Naymond¡¯s skill.


    ¡°That was¡­¡± Clinton trailed off in uncertainty.


    ¡°Definitely something,¡± Claire finished. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever had a [Faker] copy my skill before.¡±


    ¡°He hasn¡¯t¡­¡± Naymond paused. ¡°You know what. Never mind.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t miss that. Claire assumed he had copied her skill and Naymond had wanted to correct her but had chosen not to. Why?


    Did he think Melmarc wouldn¡¯t want them to know? That it was something he wanted to keep a secret? Or was Naymond the one that simply felt that it would be better to keep it a secret?


    ¡°Kid doesn¡¯t hit like a [Faker],¡± Jude said. Jed was no longer supporting him and he still had his gun¡ªa machine gun¡ªin his hands. But he stood awkwardly, favoring one side of his body.


    His rib definitely still hurt.


    Clinton nodded. ¡°I agree. Fakers don¡¯t fight the way he fought in the forest.¡±


    ¡°And he¡¯s got a disabling skill,¡± Jude added. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a [Faker] with a disabling skill.¡±


    Jed turned thoughtful. ¡°Maybe being a [Faker] won¡¯t be tough on him when he¡¯s older.¡±


    ¡°With skills like that, he¡¯ll make a good Merc,¡± Jude said. ¡°What do you say, kid? When you graduate from whatever prim and proper school you end up in, you could go solo. Be a Merc. The pay¡¯s good. With combat skills like yours and an ability to copy, you¡¯ll make money. I know a few guys so I could help you transition quite smoothly.¡±


    That¡¯s surprising. Melmarc stared at Jude. The man had a genuine look of interest on his face. Is this like his way of apologizing or something?


    If it was, it felt wrong. It was on the wrong end of how apologies were meant to go. From what Melmarc knew, an apology started by saying sorry, not offering random services.


    Still, he had forgiven the man already. Jude had already served his punishment for his crime so Melmarc definitely had nothing against the man right now. By that logic an apology wasn¡¯t necessary, right?


    But it wasn¡¯t like he took the apology willingly, he thought.


    How exactly was this supposed to work? How did you forgive someone for doing what they did after punishing them without their consent?


    Melmarc pressed his lips into a thin line. How much of his skills were going to end up having some kind of moral greyness that came with using them?


    ¡°Stop trying to get the kid to be a Contractor,¡± Jed chided Jude. ¡°All your lot do is go around causing trouble for everyone else. Besides, it feels like he¡¯s on the part to being a responsible citizen.¡±


    ¡°How many skills can you copy at once?¡± Clinton asked. ¡°Normally, I know your class should only be able to copy one.¡±


    ¡°I know a girl that can copy two,¡± Jude interjected.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you copied something from Nelson when you joined us because you almost started hitting like a tank,¡± Clinton continued. ¡°Then you must¡¯ve copied Claire to heal her. Is your cool down that low or can you copy multiple?¡±


    He sounded genuinely curious. Still, Melmarc hesitated.


    ¡°As his personal butler designated by his rich parents,¡± Naymond interrupted. ¡°I would just like to point out that regardless of the current situation, that¡¯s a bit of a rude question to ask a Gifted. You should know better, Eastwood.¡±


    Clinton paused. ¡°Sorry about that, Marc,¡± he apologized. ¡°Your butl¡ªtea¡ªfriend¡­?¡± He frowned. ¡°Mr. Hitchcock is right. I shouldn¡¯t have asked.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Melmarc replied. ¡°It¡¯s only normal that you would ask, given the situation.¡±


    ¡°An answer wouldn¡¯t be bad, though,¡± Jed said. ¡°Considering where we are and what we¡¯re about to do, we should know what he¡¯s capable of.¡±


    ¡°Brrr!¡± The sound left Naymond¡¯s lips, sharp and hard. ¡°Wrong! Your plan is for him to not fight at all. By that logic, you have no reason to know what he can do. You only need to know how fast he can run and how many hide and seek competitions he won as a child.¡±


    Jed frowned at him but said nothing further.


    There was a very brief silence that followed where Melmarc pulled up his interface to look at the skills he¡¯d gotten.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +1.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 6.]


    [You have received 6 Potential buffs.]


    [Sword of the Immortal (02.01%)]


    The Gifted cuts a target at the same strength regardless of health.


    [Fist of Thunder (Mastery 2.00%)]


    The Gifted wraps their fist in electricity at a mana cost.


    [Shades of Perception](Mastery 4.00%)


    The Gifted achieves an improbable task in exchange for increased perception.


    [Hand of Life](Mastery 1.08%)


    The Gifted quantifies a target¡¯s health in definable quantity.


    [The Great Wall](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted stands his ground when in possession of a target.


    [Stay Away From Me](Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted keeps a target away from their personal space.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after ten minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:01:31.]


    Melmarc had no idea which one belonged to Naymond. Personally, he had a feeling it was [Shades of Perception]. It was the only one that sounded Sage-y.


    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± Clinton said suddenly, turning to Naymond. ¡°What¡¯s an Eastwood?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a what?¡± Naymond asked.


    ¡°You called me Eastwood. My name¡¯s not Eastwood.¡±


    Naymond made a dismissive gesture. ¡°Don¡¯t mind me. It¡¯s a personal joke. I knew of a guy called Eastwood once, had your name, too.¡±


    Clinton¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°You knew a guy called Clinton Eastwood?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡± Naymond paused in thought. ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t say I knew him. More like I knew of him. I also wouldn¡¯t say it was exactly your name. They just called him Clint Eastwood. He¡¯s quite popular.¡±


    Jed frowned. ¡°Never heard of him.¡±


    ¡°Me, too.¡± Clinton said.


    Neither had Melmarc.


    Naymond chuckled. ¡°I can¡¯t really say I¡¯m surprised. Maybe it¡¯s just a me thing. At least he¡¯s famous to the group of people I hang with.¡±


    Then he paused suddenly, head turning back to Melmarc as if he¡¯d just realized that Melmarc was listening.


    His words were preceded by a single thought.


    Dissonant.

 SIXTY-EIGHT: Fire Centipede

    Naymond¡¯s skill had turned out to be [Shades of Perception]. Melmarc couldn¡¯t say he had been surprised when the [Sage] had told him. It had sounded like something complicated. When he¡¯d chosen it and discovered what it did, he was more certain that it belonged to Naymond.


    It had also given him a bit of insight into some of the things Naymond did. Like why he was currently riding around on Nelson¡¯s back.


    As its description suggested, [Shades of Perception] granted benefits based on if you were capable of executing something that was improbable. If you were successful, depending on the level of improbability, you got a boost in perception.


    Melmarc found himself wondering how often Naymond used the skill. The [Sage] was, after all, always doing things that didn¡¯t make sense. Like tidying up people¡¯s offices and checking the time.


    But being able to tidy up someone¡¯s office didn¡¯t sound very improbable. There was very little a person couldn¡¯t make themselves do. Unless you¡¯re making kids do it.


    Melmarc almost groaned at the idea of the things Naymond had made him do.


    They were currently hiding behind a building not too far from the castle walls. While quiet, the Delvers were paying avid attention to the [Damned] that were there. Clinton¡¯s lips moved every now and again but he didn¡¯t make any sound.


    Jed simply watched, eyes narrowed and a frown on his face.


    Watching them this time felt different for Melmarc. Once upon a time, when he¡¯d looked at them, his mind had been more fixated on the castle within and the possibility of clearing the portal. Only the big picture.


    Now he watched them with a different kind of attention. He almost studied them.


    The first thing he realized was their size. They were definitely taller than the ones he¡¯d faced. Thinner and taller. They also moved with more grace, even if they were still jerky in their steps. They did not run into each other, or stagger or stumble. And while they decayed like their counterparts, they didn¡¯t look like they would crumble at anytime.


    ¡°Am I the only one that finds the whole skull head thing quite rude?¡± Naymond whispered.


    Jude turned to him with a finger to his lips.


    The Delver had been healed a while back. His thirty minutes of punishment had expired and Claire had been allowed to heal him. Even now, Melmarc was vaguely aware of the fact that the man had offered him no apology.


    Clinton raised a hand and gave them a signal. Obediently, the Delvers started backing up. Melmarc didn¡¯t recognize the hand sign, but he backed up as well. They moved slowly, gentle steps carrying them farther away from the wall, eyes fixed on the [Damned].


    When they were far away, the [Damned] almost dots in their sight, Clinton turned to address them.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we can take them,¡± he said.


    Naymond chuckled on Nelson¡¯s back and the big guy frowned. ¡°They really don¡¯t look take-able.¡±


    Clinton gave him a single look before ignoring him.


    ¡°Our guns will be useless,¡± he continued. ¡°Some of them have armor on. I assume that those will be enough to hinder our bullets. And judging from the strength of the ones we faced in the trees, I say gunshots would be a waste of our time.¡±


    ¡°Then it¡¯s a good thing we aren¡¯t charging in,¡± Jed said. ¡°Right?¡±


    Clinton nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll go around. The plan still remains.¡±


    The plan, Melmarc remembered, was to blow a hole in the side of the wall, somewhere that wasn¡¯t swarming with the creatures. While he didn¡¯t argue with the idea, he was still of the opinion that the wall would be too sturdy.


    Climbing the wall was definitely not an option, though. It was too smooth. Jumping over it was also a bad idea because it was too tall.


    He frowned as the thoughts moved through his mind. Personally, a head on attack was beginning to seem like the only way to go.


    I could disable them¡­


    Again, that didn¡¯t seem right. He remembered what had happened when he¡¯d found Clinton and his team. When the infants had jumped within [Secrecy] they¡¯d simply fallen flat, crossing no distance. It made him wonder if the jumps and mad dashes were some kind of skill.


    He doubted it.


    The only buff [Knowledge is Power] brought him from the [Damned] was the skill [Damnation]. Nothing else. If the jumping and all that were skills, he would have been offered the skill.


    Then why had they fallen powerlessly at the activation of [Secrecy]? Why were they weak within its confines?


    ¡°So we¡¯re still blowing shit up,¡± Jude asked.


    Clinton nodded. ¡°Sounds like our best option right now.¡±


    ¡°And what do we do about the noise?¡±


    Jed nodded. ¡°He¡¯s right. It will definitely draw attention.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll just have to be fast,¡± Clinton said. The frown on his face told Melmarc that the Delver was still thinking about the entire thing. ¡°The explosion could also serve as a distraction.¡±


    Jed scratched his jaw at that. ¡°You¡¯re thinking we should split up?¡±


    ¡°Maybe.¡± Clinton seemed uncertain.


    ¡°You sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± Naymond asked. ¡°If we¡¯re splitting up, I get the kid, the Healer, and big guy over here.¡±


    He patted Nelson on the shoulder.


    Now that Melmarc knew what Naymond was doing, or at least had an insight into it, the Sage¡¯s disruptive behavior seemed more tolerable. Beneficial. [Shades of Perception] increased the amount of perception based on how difficult the task was and from the little he¡¯d garnered when he¡¯d tried using the skill, you determined what improbable task you wanted to accomplish while the skill determined how many stats it was worth.


    It was a very loose skill by Melmarc¡¯s estimate. He also found himself wondering the extent of the task Naymond had set himself to. One thing was certain, though. It involved Nelson.


    With Naymond¡¯s words on taking Claire, Jed¡¯s question about splitting up hit a different point. In a portal like this where a single blow could render you close to death¡¯s door, you did not want to be without a healer.


    Everyone exchanged a look and Melmarc watched ideas live and die on different expressions, never being suggested.


    For him, Melmarc believed charging them would be best. Not like the mad, though. It would be stupid to just run in, guns blazing. There would have to be some kind of tactics involved. What did he know about Delvers?


    A lot of his own personal knowledge of them was in who they were as Gifted. But he knew more, thanks to Delano. He knew how they fought. Or at least how they were supposed to fight.


    Ranged for distance attack and support, he thought. Healer in the back. Tank in front. Melee in front.


    Those were the basics. There could be more added to the team but these four positions were essential.


    Looking at the team in front of him, he could ascertain what roles some of them played. Clinton with [Fists of Thunder] was most likely a melee. The tank was unquestionable. Claire was the Healer. So who was the ranged.


    All of them?


    By the virtue of owning guns, it didn¡¯t seem like an impossible idea. But that wasn¡¯t how this was supposed to work. They were Delvers. He was supposed to be looking at their positions when putting only their skills into account.


    ¡°Who¡¯s the ranged support?¡± he found himself asking.


    Clinton turned to him. ¡°The what?¡±


    ¡°Ranged support,¡± Melmarc repeated. ¡°I can tell that you¡¯re the melee. And Nelson¡¯s the tank. Claire¡¯s the Healer.¡± He looked at Jed and Jude. ¡°Who¡¯s ranged?¡±


    Apart from Claire, the rest raised their guns.


    Naymond smacked his forehead with his palm. ¡°He¡¯s talking about skills. Class.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all capable of ranged attacks,¡± Jed answered.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like that. A team needed defined roles. All defined roles needed to be occupied by those best suited to it. You did not improvise your way into roles. That was the quickest way to lose a fight.


    It was like chess. Some roles were more important than others. Some more easily sacrificed. You did not sacrifice a knight to save a pawn unless it led to a greater advantage than the loss of the knight.


    Roles were important. Roles were¡ª


    Melmarc froze, his own thoughts hindering him. What the hell had just happened? Had he just described the roles of actual people as if he was talking about a chess game? Pawns and knights. Sacrifices.


    He didn¡¯t get to play God on the battle field. He didn¡¯t get to pick and choose who lives and dies for what purposes or reasons. He understood the necessity of it but the morality of it was a far heavier weight than that.


    What was happening to him?


    He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up.


    Naymond looked down at him with an understanding expression. It was solemn, too. Melmarc didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever seen the [Sage] look so understanding and empathetic before.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to take it one step at a time,¡± Naymond said. ¡°In the heat of battle the last thing you want to do is second guess yourself. Act and have faith in the fact that you¡¯ve grown well. Have faith in the fact that you know right from wrong and will pick right.¡±


    Melmarc met Naymond¡¯s gaze, then sighed. As serious and reasonable as his words were, it was almost impossible to take him serious when he was practically leaning down from a large man who was giving him a piggy back ride that he did not need.


    Naymond took his hand from Melmarc¡¯s shoulder and turned to the rest. ¡°So are we still splitting up?¡±


    Clinton shook his head. ¡°It was a bad idea from the start. Splitting up only works when there¡¯s a rendezvous point.¡±


    ¡°And we don¡¯t have one?¡± Naymond asked.


    Nelson shook his head. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what¡¯s inside the castle so we won¡¯t have where to meet back.¡±


    ¡°We could always meet back here.¡±


    Jed looked at him like he was stupid. ¡°Why?¡±


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°No idea.¡±


    ¡°Well, that was stupid,¡± Jed sighed.


    It seemed Naymond was the only one that was capable of making the Delver talk more than was necessary. Normally, Jed was quiet. But only until Naymond said something.


    Clinton ignored their small altercation. ¡°So it¡¯s agreed. No splitting up. I don¡¯t think it would be good for any of us to go around without a Healer, right now. There¡¯s too much we still don¡¯t know.¡±


    Nelson placed his hands on his vest, gripped it at the front collar where it made a ¡®V¡¯ and rested them there.


    ¡°Still got the explosives?¡± Clinton asked.


    Nelson nodded. ¡°They¡¯ll be loud.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s a risk we¡¯re going to have to take.¡± Clinton looked at Naymond. ¡°You said you¡¯re not a combatant.¡±


    Naymond nodded. ¡°Desk junkie, right here.¡±


    ¡°So we should take you as a civilian?¡±


    Naymond nodded.


    Clinton sighed. ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I said I hadn¡¯t been hoping you¡¯d be more helpful.¡±


    Naymond didn¡¯t seem the least bit bothered by it.


    Melmarc, however, had other ideas on the matter. Naymond might like to stay away from the action but he was far from combat useless.


    The two [Damned] that they¡¯d met in the room with Naymond when he¡¯d returned with the Delvers were dead. They also bore no injuries at all. How they had died wasn¡¯t important, though. What was important was that they had died. Which meant that Naymond had a way to kill them.


    So why¡¯s he keeping it a secret?


    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled,¡± Clinton announced. ¡°Naymond and Marc will stay at the rear with Claire. Jed, you''re in charge of them.¡±


    ¡°Do I get absolute command?¡± Jed asked, eyeing Naymond.


    ¡°Define absolute command.¡±


    ¡°Absolute command,¡± Jed said, thumbing at Naymond, ¡°implies being able to knock this one upside the head if he acts out.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Jed shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll do it regardless.¡±


    ¡°If anything goes wrong, I¡¯ll take point with Nelson,¡± Clinton said, ignoring Jed¡¯s comment. ¡°Claire, keep an eye out for anyone that decides to start dying. Jed, you protect her. The last thing we want is to lose our Healer like what happened in the beginning. Jude you take center, put down anything that gets past Nelson and I.¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a [Faker], though,¡± Jude pointed out. ¡°With that, we could get two Healers.¡±


    Clinton shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s a child and a civilian. He stays put and stays safe.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a combat role, though.¡±


    ¡°And if someone goes down in a chaos, that means he¡¯ll have to go into the chaos to heal them.¡±


    Jude frowned.


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to maximize our chances of survival,¡± he muttered.


    Something about the look in Clinton¡¯s eyes at the Delver¡¯s words implied consequences for that line of thought.


    Personally, Melmarc didn¡¯t care about this part of the conversation. As far as he was concerned, he would only remain quiet and safe for the first assault they experienced. He would use it to learn. He would pay attention, figure out what to do and what not to do. Learning how these new [Damned] fought was the priority. Learning how the team fought was second.


    Then their next combat experience would have him going into the fray. It might be a stupid thought, but he needed all the [EP] he could get.


    Their walk lasted another fifteen minutes. Clinton lead them to the side. They kept a steady distance away from the wall. Far away that they felt safe but close enough that they could still pick out the [Damned].


    The walk was silent, filled with the settling anticipation of potential violence. Melmarc had a feeling the settling anticipation was more on his side of things. His muscles felt at ease at the thought of the violence that could come. But it wasn¡¯t just the violence, it was the possibility of it in large numbers. The chaos that would come from a group of people fighting at the same time.


    He waited for it. Terrifyingly so, he wanted it. And it had nothing to do with the reward of [EP] that would come with victory.


    Melmarc pulled up his traits.


    Traits


    [Calculating¡­]


    He wasn¡¯t surprised.


    He was at least eighty percent sure that this new section of his interface, the section he¡¯d never heard about in any Gifted, would explain it all. Until then, he discarded it.


    The rest of the journey was walked in relative silence. Naymond disturbed Nelson occasionally, but not with words. It was hard to believe that the big guy was carrying Naymond just because Naymond said Melmarc would forgive him.


    Was it some kind of blackmail? Now that Melmarc knew there was a benefit to some of the insane things Naymond was doing, he wasn¡¯t sure that he couldn¡¯t put it past the [Sage].


    ¡°How much are you going to get out of it?¡± he asked as they finally made a turn and started heading towards the castle wall.


    From this distance, Melmarc couldn¡¯t see any waiting [Damned]. The wall was free. Smooth and tall with a bone white exterior. It looked less like a wall and more like a very massive bone.


    Again, he was left with a strong feeling that their explosive plan wouldn¡¯t work.


    Naymond looked down at Melmarc. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°This,¡± Melmarc gestured at him on Nelson. ¡°How much will [Shades of Perception] give you?¡±


    Naymond squinted at him as if realizing something.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said in sudden epiphany, still keeping his voice down. ¡°You¡¯re finally beginning to understand that I¡¯m actually not some random annoyance.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    A small smile touched Naymond¡¯s lips. It was fond.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said. ¡°I got eight points.¡±


    Eight? That was a massive number.


    When Melmarc had tried to use the skill, he¡¯d been given the option of getting the Delvers to not heal Jude until the actual fighting had begun. And that would¡¯ve gained him only four points in perception.


    Using the benefits of [Bless Your Kindness] as a point of comparison, it had sounded like a lot of points. Now, he didn¡¯t think so.


    Wait. He paused, a frown touching his lips.


    He looked up at Naymond and found the man still staring at him.


    ¡°You said ¡®got,¡¯¡± he pointed out.


    Naymond¡¯s smile widened. ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°How long ago?¡±


    Naymond grinned. ¡°The task was to simply get him to offer me a place on his back.¡±


    That meant he¡¯d remained on the man¡¯s back for no good reason at all. That was just wrong. That was just¡­


    ¡­Naymond.


    For a moment, Melmarc had almost accepted that Naymond wasn¡¯t annoying simply because he was annoying, or confusing simply because he wanted to confuse. For a moment, he¡¯d almost believed that Naymond¡¯s eccentricities were a result of his skill.


    But why did that make it understandable or acceptable? Delano was eccentric in his own way and Melmarc was happy to accept it even though most people thought his friend was weird. No one took a conspiracy theorist seriously.


    No one took anybody too curious seriously when they had a habit of poking their noses in what was not supposed to concern them.


    ¡°You¡¯re thinking to hard,¡± Naymond said.


    Nelson grunted. ¡°I¡¯m not thinking.¡±


    ¡°Not you, big guy.¡± Naymond patted him on the shoulder as they drew closer to the wall. ¡°Though, it says a lot that you can comfortably go around not thinking at all.¡±


    Nelson grumbled something completely incoherent but kept on walking.


    Naymond returned his attention to Melmarc. ¡°So, tell me. Have you always been a thinker? I know you¡¯ve been a worrier. But a thinker?¡±


    Melmarc had always been a thinker. His thoughts just always went towards the worrying part of it. Mostly for Ark¡¯s safety and for keeping Delano out of trouble. Reasonably, he¡¯d never really needed to think of much else.


    Although, now he was beginning to think it had been less of not needing to think of much else and more about fixating on what to occupy his mind with.


    In the end, Melmarc¡¯s response was a shrug. ¡°Everybody thinks.¡±


    ¡°True enough,¡± Naymond agreed. ¡°Everyone but my new friend over here.¡±


    He patted Nelson.


    ¡°Pat me one more time and I¡¯ll drop you,¡± Nelson said.


    ¡°Why are you even carrying him in the first place?¡± Jed said.


    Naymond smiled.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s quite jealous,¡± he whispered to Melmarc conspiratorially. His voice, however, was loud enough for anyone listening to hear.


    Jed scowled. ¡°How the hell has no one shot you?¡±


    ¡°The better question is how have you not shot me?¡± Naymond raised a questioning brow.


    Jed looked away. ¡°Dumb luck, I guess.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Naymond tapped a thoughtful finger to his lip. ¡°I¡¯m lucky and you¡¯re dumb. Makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock,¡± Melmarc scolded before he could stop himself.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Naymond sighed. ¡°I went a little far with that one. I should learn to rein myself in sometimes.¡± He turned to Jed, serious and composed, as composed as a grown man on another man¡¯s back could be. ¡°I apologize for that. I shouldn¡¯t have called you dumb. You¡¯re far from that, and I¡¯m not a jester.¡±


    Jed paused, taken back by surprise. He looked from Naymond to Melmarc, then back. A confused frown touched his lips. He looked back at Melmarc.


    ¡°Sarcasm?¡± he asked.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think it was so he shook his head.


    Jed looked back at Naymond. He didn¡¯t look convinced. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re not the kid¡¯s butler?¡±


    ¡°I told you I was, didn¡¯t I?¡± Naymond smiled kindly.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough of that,¡± Clinton said, hushing them. ¡°We need silence from here on.¡±


    They were already close to the wall now. Close enough that they could pick out details of it. The first thing Melmarc noticed was that the wall wasn¡¯t smooth. It was rough, like a skin with rashes. A lot of rashes.


    It was still as bone white as it had looked from afar. And even from how far they were from it, perhaps two more minutes of walking between them, it looked extra thick.


    As they walked in the silence, Nelson rummaged about in his front vest. He unclipped the pockets, checked inside them and closed them back. When he was done with that, he checked his pants pockets.


    Satisfied with whatever he had learned from his check, he returned his attention to the path in front of him. As for Naymond, he simply rested his head across the man¡¯s back as if he intended on going to sleep.


    Melmarc placed a quick decision in his mind. If he needed to join the fight earlier than he¡¯d planned, none of Claire¡¯s skill was what he would go for. There was a part of him that agreed that he would make an amazing medic in this situation but that was if he was thinking for the team. And that wasn¡¯t his job.


    As a medic, [Knowledge is Power] could help him get to the injured in relative safety. All he needed was to be fast enough. [Bless Your Kindness] gave him the stats he would need to get that speed as well as the strength he would need to carry the injured to safety if he couldn¡¯t heal them on the spot.


    Again, it was an important role for the team. But he was not a part of the team.


    He was currently a one-man team, though Naymond was something of an honorary member. The Delvers could handle themselves. They were trained and paid for that. What he needed to be doing was figure out what would be best for his team, not the team he was collaborating with.


    And that was getting as much [EP] as he could manage. To do that, he needed to fight. To fight, he needed powerful skills.


    He poked Naymond in the side. Naymond turned to look at him.


    ¡°I need [World of Insight],¡± he told Naymond in a whisper.


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°Why are you telling me?¡±


    ¡°Because¡ª¡±


    ¡°Moral dilemma?¡± Naymond asked and he nodded.


    A sad smile touched Naymond¡¯s lips.


    ¡°You¡¯re one of the good ones, aren¡¯t you?¡± he said. ¡°Try not to forget that the older you get, okay? We really don¡¯t have a lot of them in the adult world. Especially among the Gifted.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea why Naymond was choosing to say that now. Actually, he did. It was just that he didn¡¯t see the necessary purpose. They were about to get into a potential fight.


    Human interaction, Melmarc told himself. He refused to allow this new way of thinking overthrow his normal way of thinking.


    Naymond had called him a good one. Melmarc had never necessarily thought of himself as good, but he was certain he wasn¡¯t bad. And as long as he didn¡¯t allow his new way of thinking control him, he could continue remaining certain that he wasn¡¯t bad.


    I¡¯ll need to have a talk with mom and dad when I get back.


    If [Optimum Existence] was bringing out traits in him and the traits had something to do with what was happening to him, then it meant he¡¯d inherited them. And who better to speak to about it than the people he most likely inherited them from.


    Ark would need to be there while I¡¯m doing it, he thought.


    Why?


    Because it was Ark. That was the best he got.


    With a deep breath, Melmarc activated [Knowledge is Power].


    ¡°You guys ready?¡± Naymond asked as the skill burst out, going straight through everybody.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Jed asked. ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯ve asked before.¡±


    Naymond grinned at him. ¡°Just wait for it.¡±


    Jed squinted. Clinton looked back. Claire wasn¡¯t really bothered. Jude¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t hesitate to move to Melmarc.


    For the first time, Melmarc realized that Naymond had waited until the static of his mana burst had gone through them before telling them to wait for it.


    He can see it?


    There was nothing supporting the thought. Maybe it was simply a coincidence. Maybe it wasn¡¯t.


    Melmarc watched Naymond¡¯s eyes focus a little too strongly on Jed. Melmarc kept his eyes on the [Sage]. Before the burst of mana passed through them on its return, Naymond flinched.


    He can fucking see it.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +1.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 6.]


    [You have received 6 Potential buffs.]


    [Sword of the Immortal (02.01%)]


    The Gifted cuts a target at the same strength regardless of health.


    [Fist of Thunder (Mastery 2.00%)]


    The Gifted wraps their fist in electricity at a mana cost.


    [World of Insight (Mastery 05.03%]


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.


    [Hand of Life (Mastery 1.08%)


    The Gifted quantifies a target¡¯s health in definable quantity.


    [The Great Wall (Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted stands his ground when in possession of a target.


    [Stay Away From Me (Mastery 0.00%)


    The Gifted keeps a target away from their personal space.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after ten minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:59.]


    Melmarc didn¡¯t delay. He selected [World of Insight] and it was like everything around him lit up in his mind.


    The combination of [knowledge is Power] and [World of Insight] gave the world around him a whole new meaning. He almost felt omniscient.


    Before he could stop himself, Melmarc was already looking around in wonder. The blades of grass were somehow greener and sharper. Jude¡¯s injury was healed but the man still walked as if he favored his right side.


    There was a bruise there, still purpling. It wasn¡¯t as large as a fist, but it was there. A reminder of the consequences of Jude¡¯s action. A symbol of what Melmarc was slowly becoming capable of.


    It only lasted a moment before Melmarc realized what he had done. In the distance, he saw red indicators light up on the surface of the wall. They were behind the wall but he could see them clear as day. More surprising was the barely perceptible outlines just below each indicator.


    He peered forward, squinted at them. He hadn¡¯t known [Knowledge is Power] had grown in its reach. The distance between them and the wall was farther than the width of a small house. And that was only the radius.


    Melmarc wanted to look behind him, make sure it really was just the radius and the skill hadn¡¯t somehow just shot forward. He paused. Two things occupying his mind.


    First, why had he considered looking back to see how far the skill had reached. It dawned on him then that he didn¡¯t know much of what was behind him. he was aware of maybe six to seven feet behind him, but that was it. It was as if most of the skill had focused on what was in front of him.


    Was this what it had meant by him getting the ability to control its extremities? If yes, then why now? What had he done differently that it had focused forward and not around him?


    ¡°You¡¯re squinting,¡± Naymond said. ¡°Do we have something to worry about?¡±


    Melmarc nodded, pulling himself from his reflection. It could wait, after all. This one was more important.


    On the other side of the wall, the indicators were moving a little faster. They were aware of his presence now. They simply didn¡¯t know where he was. To them, it was like a game of hide and seek. Someone was there but they couldn¡¯t tell where.


    ¡°I count twelve of them on the other side,¡± he told Naymond in a low voice.


    Clinton looked to Jed for confirmation and Jed shook his head.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Clinton said, looking back at Melmarc. ¡°How do you know how many are on the other side. Jed¡¯s our scout and he doesn¡¯t have a skill that can tell him that so you didn¡¯t get it from him.¡±


    Melmarc noted the curiosity in the man¡¯s voice. He wasn¡¯t accusatory or suspicious, merely confused.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got an awareness skill,¡± Naymond answered. ¡°That¡¯s what he copied.¡±


    They were closer to the wall now.


    Clinton opened his mouth. He clearly wanted to object. But he didn¡¯t. Instead, he closed his mouth and picked up the pace. Melmarc could tell that the man was uncomfortable about not knowing. More uncomfortable at being lied to. But he was keeping it together, trying his best not to let it get to him.


    He¡¯s a good leader, Melmarc realized. He¡¯s more focused on what¡¯s important to the mission than his own personal curiosity or feelings.


    ¡°What else you got?¡± Naymond asked Melmarc when they got to the wall.


    There was still one thing that was bothering Melmarc. For him, it was more important than the number of enemies on the other side.


    ¡°I only have indicators,¡± he said.


    Nelson reached to his back and tapped one of Naymond¡¯s arms. ¡°Down.¡±


    Naymond complied.


    ¡°Thanks for the ride,¡± he said as he stepped back to join Melmarc.


    As for Nelson, the man squatted at the wall and started retrieving things from his vest pocket.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know what explosives were supposed to look like. He knew the normal and generic grenades and the bombs you saw in movies that the bad guys improvised out of things bought at your local convenience stores. But without a timer and obvious wires, he could argue that he could walk past a bomb and not even notice.


    The things Nelson brought out of his vest and attached to the wall were green and round. Each one was the size of his fist.


    What kind of explosive is that?


    Clinton caught him watching and said, ¡°Fire centipede droppings.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. Paused. Then looked at him. ¡°Wait. What?¡±


    ¡°Fire centipedes are B-rank monsters,¡± Nelson explained. ¡°They leave a highly flammable trail of liquid wherever they go. But their droppings are rare to come by, unless you kill one of them.¡±


    That was creepy, but not what was important. Melmarc nodded as if he was okay with the answer even if he wasn¡¯t, and turned to Naymond.


    ¡°There¡¯s no detail,¡± he said.


    ¡°No detail?¡± Naymond asked, confused.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°When I use my skill, I get a name sometimes a rank.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc ignored. It was a white lie. After all, he hadn¡¯t gotten a rank when he¡¯d used the skill on Dorthna. Not even a name.


    ¡°And you¡¯re saying you didn¡¯t get any?¡± Naymond asked.


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Is there a chance that something¡¯s wrong with the skill?¡±


    They were still whispering, voices low. Naymond, however, was beginning to sound and look worried.


    Melmarc calmed him with a shake of his head. ¡°No, I¡¯m sure the skill is fine.¡±


    Besides, he¡¯d never heard of someone¡¯s skill having issues and acting up.


    ¡°I think it might be the wall,¡± he continued. ¡°Something about it.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t even sure if it was the wall. It could just as easily be the creatures on the other side of the wall. The outline he was seeing were exactly similar to the [Damned] that were at the broken side of the wall. They were armed with swords or shields or flails or maces.


    But something pinched at Melmarc. He wasn¡¯t sure what it was, but he was missing something. Something he felt had to be important.


    ¡°What of the creatures?¡± Naymond asked. ¡°Could it be them?¡±


    ¡°Stand to the sides,¡± Nelson said, rising to his feet. placed against the wall were eight round orbs that stuck to it. One of them had a whicker that was currently burning a bright green flame.


    Each person stepped to the side.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the creatures,¡± Melmarc was telling Naymond. ¡°It¡¯s something else.¡±


    ¡°Fire centipede droppings explodes inwards,¡± Clinton was explaining even though no one had asked him. ¡°So we only have to worry about a direct blow back. It works very well for breaching and is extremely powerful.¡±


    Melmarc knew the Delver was explaining for his knowledge, but he couldn¡¯t shake what was bothering him.


    ¡°In four,¡± Nelson whispered loudly. ¡°Three¡­¡±


    Something clicked and Melmarc looked up. People always made the mistake of not looking up.


    ¡°¡­Two...¡±


    At the top of the wall was something Melmarc didn¡¯t expect.


    A grey indicator.


    ¡°¡­One.¡±


    Melmarc moved. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was going to do. His body had simply reacted. Making an enemy of a very massive wall didn¡¯t seem like a good plan in any way.


    Naymond stopped him just in time. He delayed Melmarc¡¯s action with a hand on his chest. It wasn¡¯t a firm hold but the delay was long enough.


    The wall exploded, blew inwards as Clinton had said it would. It was loud and it was powerful, leaving smoke in its wake.


    What have we done? Melmarc asked himself as the wall trembled.


    ¡°Go! Go! Go!¡± Clinton ordered, rushing into the smoke, Nelson fast behind him.


    Jude followed after him and Jed grabbed Melmarc by the shoulder and moved him.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to hurry,¡± he said as they went into the new hole in the wall, buffeted in smoke. ¡°The plan only works if we¡¯re not far behind them.¡±


    They moved too quickly and Melmarc didn¡¯t get the chance to check on the indicator above the wall. Worse, [World of Insight] couldn¡¯t tell him if it was still grey or if it had turned red.


    Unfortunately, the moment they were through the wall, Melmarc was faced with a new problem.


    Whatever had distorted the full effect of [Knowledge is Power] was gone and he now had a clear sight of their opponents¡¯ details.


    He didn¡¯t like what he saw.


    [Damned (B)]

 SIXTY-NINE: Line of Vengeance

    Melmarc followed quickly. Smoke obstructed his view but he kept his eyes on the indicators around him, all of them a sharp red. This was going to be a problem. The Delving team had no idea that their enemies were not C-rank.


    ¡°They¡¯re B-rank!¡± he shouted into the smoke, only aware of where Jed was as the Delver led him by a hand on his shoulder. ¡°They¡¯re B-ranks!¡±


    The wall had been thicker than Melmarc had expected. Even after four steps in the smoke he knew he was still enclosed on both sides by the wall. [World of Insight] showed it to him.


    He heard a pained groan and his head twitched to the side. There was a red indicator a little too close to a green one ahead of him. Between them was a short burst of blue white lightning, like a powerful spark.


    Then a grunt followed. Then a roar. A green indicator barreled into another red. [World of Insight] kept him attentive but didn¡¯t really show him anything.


    Melmarc, on his own part, allowed Jed to continue leading him. He kept his head low and kept his eyes out for the location of all the indicators even if [World of Insight] kept their locations alive for him.


    It was odd to learn that even though the skill worked as a feeling, it seemed to function the same way eyes functioned. If there was too much information, like a smoke cloud, it saw far too little. It shut down and started acting like eyes. It gave him basic information, but not details. It told him that there was a [Damned] with a sword in the smoke, but he couldn''t tell if it was wearing a helmet or not.


    It didn¡¯t make sense, especially when the skill could look around corners and give him the information that was there.


    Suddenly, Jed pushed Melmarc to the side. Melmarc stumbled, bursting out of the cloud of smoke as he was released from the confines of the wall. [World of Insight] flared in his mind. Too many red indicators were suddenly converging on him.


    In a moment, Jed was beside him, down on one knee, gun at the ready. The Delver¡¯s gun fired off in quick, short bursts. His bullets pinged off the [Damned] without visible effect, yet he continued to fire.


    They¡¯d had twelve to start with, but in the distance more [Damned] were coming their way. The entire plan was going to hell and it was only just the beginning of the plan.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Jed hissed. He popped his magazine from his gun and loaded another. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to move, Marc!¡±


    Melmarc understood that, but his attention was on where Naymond was. He found the [Sage] at a thought. He stood behind Jude while Jude fired away with no hope of success. One of the [Damned] got a little too close and Naymond pointed at it. It dashed forward in a single step. It moved barely a foot from where it was standing and just keeled over and hit the ground.


    Its indicator turned a soft grey before disappearing.


    Jed ignored his gun now and pulled a knife from a side strap at his thigh. It was a deep black with a silver edge. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if it was silvery because of a design function or too much sharpening.


    If he paid better attention to it, he would¡¯ve probably been able to figure it out. But he didn¡¯t. He was too busy trying to figure out how they would survive the situation.


    Jed swung the knife, cut in a downward slash. A bright flare of white like the static burst of mana that came with [Knowledge is Power] shot out of it in a long arc. It filled the space the knife cut then blasted forward, straight into the closest [Damned]. It wielded a halberd for a hand and was clad in old rusted armor that hid most of its body.


    The attack struck it on the chest. Hard. The sound was like a sledge hammer being slammed into a wall. Not a sound Melmarc would¡¯ve expected an attack from a knife skill to make. However, the blow only staggered the creature. It took a disoriented step back before the arc shattered like very thin glass.


    Jed scoffed in annoyance. ¡°We need to regroup. Fall back.¡±


    He was mumbling, almost as if he was talking to himself.


    Was it insubordination? Melmarc wondered. Did the Delver intend to fall back to safety on his own. Clinton had given them a command. As their leader, they were meant to obey. That was how hierarchy worked. Without some kind of hierarchy, there was no order.


    Jed¡¯s hand moved to grab him once more but [World of Insight] told Melmarc how wrong the action was in the wider scope of the battle. So he moved gently to the side, out of Jed¡¯s reach, then shoved the Delver away with his foot.


    From behind them, a [Damned] burst forth, charging through their middle like a fired bullet, spear point aimed forward in a thrust at where they had been moments ago. It was fast, Melmarc realized. Very fast. He¡¯d only survived because [World of Insight] had showed him its sudden attention on them and he¡¯d moved before it.


    Jed was right. They needed to regroup.


    Melmarc turned, changed directions. Running didn¡¯t seem like an option to him. There was a significant part of him that wanted to run, to flee to safety. But there were small parts of him, strong minorities, they seemed, that knew it would be wrong to flee from a battle that could still be won.


    You did not abandon your men in battle. You did not leave allies to fight alone. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like the fight was without hope.


    The momentary pause almost distracted Melmarc. The [Damned] Jed had used his skill on charged him. [World of Insight] pulled his attention to his own safety. Melmarc watched the halberd cut through the air in an upward swing and he struggled to switch position again. He staggered away from it and pain flared in his thigh. It was hot and demanding. Like a paper cut if it happened to you a thousand times in one place, at the same time.


    Melmarc sucked in a sharp, pained breath, hand already moving. His hand twirled fast and hard and he watched his interface come alive.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 3/4]


    The ring flared around his wrist and the reach of [World of Insight] diminished to just his immediate vicinity. Melmarc could still see clearly, but it felt a little as if he could hear less.


    He ignored the discomfort and flung the ring of mana into the [Damned] going for blunt force over cutting damage. The ring spun end over end instead of spinning on its side and slammed into the creature.


    Where Jed¡¯s attack had staggered the creature by a step, Melmarc¡¯s struck it in the abdomen and sent it soaring off the ground. It was pushed back at least eight feet before its feet hit the ground and it skid perhaps half the distance more. Through the entire thing, the ring of mana continued to spin against its abdomen, burning a hole in its stomach.


    When the ring of mana winked out of existence, there was a deep burn mark in the creature¡¯s armor. A hole was left there, revealing severely burnt skin.


    Then Melmarc realized that there were no bugs on it. It was noteworthy and, by the absence of bugs, unimportant right now.


    Turning, he found Jed fighting off the second [Damned]. He engaged it in close combat, knife slashing and cutting at its joints, looking for chinks in its armor. Melmarc was more impressed by the fact that the man was fighting it head on.


    Unfortunately, Jed¡¯s blows weren¡¯t doing very much. It took him three blows to force the creature even a step back. And if his attacks were working, the creature gave no sign of it. He cut it at the wrist as it tried to stab him with its spear, then ducked down, rounding it to cut at the back of its knee. All attacks were all designed to be used against a person.


    All attacks were ineffective.


    The [Damned] raised its spear and struck downward. Jed weaved away from his position. The spear struck the ground, missing him and burying its entire head into the soft soil. Jed didn¡¯t flinch or fall back. He moved fast. Stepping into the creature''s reach immediately, he took purchase on its armor with his hand and propelled himself up. He rose high until he mounted the creature from behind. Grabbing it by the head, he pulled it back to expose its neck and drew his knife across it.


    Melmarc doubted the attack would leave much of an impact until a blast of mana shot through the creature¡¯s neck. It severed its head, shooting back, and blasted Jed off the creature¡¯s back as well.


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped. Even when a spear had been thrust at the man, he hadn¡¯t flinched. Even when he had no defense to keep him from dying, at least Melmarc didn¡¯t know of any [Ranger] skill that was capable of those kinds of feat. Then he¡¯d attacked with precision, undaunted even in the face of how ineffective his attacks were until he¡¯d found a way.


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


    That was what Melmarc knew Delvers were. That was how he¡¯d always envisioned them. Powerful and undaunted.


    The one in front of him lunged forward, cleared the distance between them in a single step that carried it as fast as the ones beyond the wall moved. Melmarc dived to the side. He hit the ground in an awkward roll that hurt his shoulder when he came back to his feet.


    For a moment, he hesitated to activate [Rings of Saturn]. [World of Insight] was keeping him aware of everything and, with what he was sensing, he wasn¡¯t sure losing it was a good idea. But he also needed to fight. Still, he could throw all the rings of mana he had at the creature but that would not guarantee victory.


    What he needed was a weakness. A way to win. Like Jed had done.


    The [Damned] turned to him. Its movements remained jerky and its armor let out a slight rattling sound. It aimed its halberd at him and a bullet pinged off its head. Amidst the sounds of gunshots filling the entire place, it could have come from anywhere.


    ¡°Run, Marc!¡± Jed bellowed, firing off a few more rounds. Each squeeze of the trigger was followed by a step forward.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t run. Around him the dust had since cleared from the breached wall and everyone fought for their lives. Claire hung back, staring from the edge of the wall, clinging to it as if it was safety.


    Naymond danced behind Jude as the large man shot out what Melmarc could only assume were shock waves from his hands. It didn¡¯t do much in the way of harming the [Damned] but it definitely kept them away. Once in a while, Naymond would point a hand, palm open, at one of the [Damned] and he would wait. Whenever they leapt forward, they would simply fall, motionless.


    Nelson was a one man wrecking crew. He swung his arms like a juggernaut, smashing and bashing. One swing never killed any of the [Damned] but it sufficed to send them flying. He weathered strikes, bending into himself like a defensive boxer. When he did it, blows bounced of him.


    Clinton fought with lightning in his hands. Each blow let out a spark of blue white electricity that sent the monsters staggering but never falling.


    We¡¯re tied down, Melmarc noticed. Boxed in.


    Anytime one of them tried to venture too far away from a [Damned] there was another there to close them in. Of to the side, more of the [Damned] were coming, rushing in.


    Melmarc realized that they needed an opening, a significant one. But the question was an opening to do what? They were locked down at the wall. They could either retreat or push forward.


    If we go forward, there¡¯s more ground to cover before the actual palace.


    But there were some buildings around that they could hide in if they had to. Retreating had its positives, though. The hole they¡¯d blown in the wall wasn¡¯t so wide so the [Damned] would be forced to come in two at a time at most.


    ¡°Fuck!¡±


    Melmarc picked the sound with [World of Insight] even though it barely echoed through the sounds of swords and spears and halberds and gunshots. It was the only human voice that was loud enough.


    Melmarc turned to the voice and found Clinton in pain and disadvantaged. A [Damned] stood, towering over him. It had a sword for an arm and severely broken down armor. It wore no helmet and it looked down at Clinton with bulging eyes.


    In front of it, Clinton struggled, two lightning infused hands holding on to the blade of the creature¡¯s sword arm for dear life. A portion of it was already in his chest and had drawn blood.


    Melmarc was already moving. His hand moved on reflex and called up the skill he needed before he considered the downside to it.


    [You have used skill Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 2/3]


    If he used the skill, then what would happen? He¡¯d just end up catching Clinton and the [Damned] in the blast. It would leave Clinton without a skill and that would leave him to die.


    Melmarc ducked a swinging sword, panic rising in his chest as he stumbled. He didn¡¯t let it consume him, though. He charged forward, mind racing, seeking out possibilities on how to help when he saw something he¡¯d never seen before.


    There was a haphazard dome around Clinton and the [Damned]. He called it a dome but it really wasn¡¯t. The edges were a complete mess, chaotic instead of rounded and smooth. Like torn paper. It was a soft static white that reminded Melmarc of the burst of mana that came from using [Knowledge is Power].


    He squinted at it, shifting his attention. The chaotic dome moved. It was almost ten feet in diameter. Is this the partial control of extremities?


    The sword bit deeper into Clinton¡¯s chest and he roared in pain. His hold didn¡¯t falter but he was losing in a battle of strength.


    To the side Nelson was barreling through the [Damned], trying his best to get to Clinton. From the side, a [Damned] slammed into him, throwing him off his path. He tumbled, caught in a struggle with the creature. It was sufficiently taller than him, but he was a larger man, more muscled. It tumbled with it, slamming fist after fist into its face. When they bounced, he made sure its head came down hard with a fist to the face each time.


    An idea came to Melmarc and he risked it. Here goes nothing.


    With all the strength he could muster, he swung the ring of mana at the [Damned] like a discus. He went for cutting damage instead of blunt force. He felt his arm adjust very slightly as if he was correcting his own throw as he swung it.


    The ring of mana cut through the air, crossed the distance, and embedded itself in the creature¡¯s head, burying half of the ring deep.


    The creature¡¯s head reeled back like whiplash before it turned in Melmarc¡¯s general direction.


    ¡°CLINTON!¡± Nelson roared, stomping on the head of the [Damned] he¡¯d gone tumbling with. The blow carried enough force to shatter its head.


    Melmarc caught the reason for the cry a moment too late. When the ring of mana had struck the [Damned] another had come rushing for Clinton. It ran like a poorly controlled puppet and lunged at Clinton with a shield for a hand.


    It crossed the distance between it and Clinton, set for a shield bash.


    Then the ring of mana exploded.


    The [Damned] with the sword in Clinton¡¯s chest lost its head in a spray of bones and eyes.


    The [Damned] with the shield crashed into the ground in a chaotic tumble.


    Clinton¡¯s opponent dropped, teetering to the side like a felled tree. Clinton grunted in pain as the sword bent with it, widening the injury. With the pain, the Delver pulled, roaring as the sword came free and went with the [Damned].


    Melmarc watched it all happen as the dome of [Secrecy] expanded, taking the perfect shape he had seen before throwing the ring of mana.


    More confusing, however, was what had really happened. When Melmarc had thrown the ring of mana, he¡¯d been aiming for the torso. Halfway down the line, he¡¯d¡ªfor the briefest of moments¡ªthought of going for the head. Then his brain had just subconsciously adjusted its aim. It was like being tossed something from out of nowhere and having your body simply react to catching it.


    In better words, his mind had experienced something of a cognitive dissonance for a split moment. If something was tossed to you and your first reflex was to dodge only to find out that it was something precious like your phone or something more fragile, you would experience a moment when you would wish you¡¯d moved to catch it, instead.


    His body had picked what his mind had deemed the better option combat option.


    Not the time to be considering the skill, he chided himself, returning his attention to running.


    The lightning in Clinton¡¯s hands had all but flickered out of existence. He was left on his knees, slumped forward in pain, clutching at his chest as if trying to keep the blood inside.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t the only one running after him. Nelson was a bulldozer of a sprinter. It was to the point that Melmarc thought he could feel the ground shake under his feet with every step the tank took.


    He wondered if Clinton was even aware of the fact that his skills were no longer active as he knelt cleanly within the area of effect of [Secrecy].


    Still struggling, face twisted in pain, Clinton seemed to push himself backwards. He pushed himself back with so much pain until he was falling back.


    Then a completely new set of actions happened. The [Damned] lying motionless on the ground with a shield for a hand twitched slightly. Melmarc¡¯s eyes widened as it pulled itself from the ground, rose gently like a terrible omen.


    Melmarc wanted to make a sound, say something. But there was a part of his brain that registered the entire event with a detached acceptance. It wrote Clinton out as a potential loss and was already focusing on how else they could get out of this situation alive without the Delver.


    The [Damned] stood easily and glanced down at Clinton. Something in the way it looked at him didn¡¯t sit right. It casual. Simple. The usual mechanical emptiness was nowhere to be found.


    Then it swung its shield into him and Clinton was sent flying.


    ¡­


    It was a gloomy room by all accounts. Its aesthetics were poor. The walls were a bloody red, like a massacre had happened here and all the victims had been slain against the walls.


    It was oddly poetic since a massacre had happened here and all the victims had been slain, crucified to the walls.


    But that wasn¡¯t all there was to its design. Red wasn¡¯t the only thing that stood out on the walls. If it was, the room wouldn¡¯t have seemed so gloomy. But it wasn¡¯t.


    The shapes of faces littered the walls, countless. He had tried to count them on more than one occasion and had failed more on all occasions. It was as if for every one he counted, another joined the assembly. The faces stretched from the walls, jutting out as if trying to escape. Hands reached out in imploration, or perhaps it was accusation. He was rarely ever sure.


    Some of them had even succeeded in reaching as far out of the wall as their torso. Sadly, there was something about the wall that made it look like they weren¡¯t allowed to leave. Its craftsmanship was uncanny. It was, in the simplest of words, a grotesque artistry.


    A true masterpiece.


    Something twitched in the corner. It was the mildest of things. Irrelevant. But he sensed it. He did not turn his head to look at it, however. Somewhere in the distance, someone had tried to rebel. They were not the first. They would not be the last.


    Still, it had been happening quite often. Too many times in the last day.


    He did not like it. But as all the others before it, the rebel would return to the fold. They always did.


    He took a deep breath, denied the simple comfort of even a sigh, and rested back on his chair. It had been a throne once. Now it was a symbol of loss and nothingness. Still, he sat on it because there was nothing else to sit on, finger tapping calmly against the armrest.


    Today would be an interesting day because today, he had guests. And one of them was currently in his castle. Whoever they were, they seemed powerful. That was good.


    It was very good.


    A large man, he sat back and rested his back against the large backrest of his large throne. Maybe today would be the day he finally got to see another guest.


    Maybe today, another living being would get to look upon the face of Caldath, Demi-god of the Damned.


    Until then, he would wait.


    And wait¡­


    ¡­And wait.


    After all, he¡¯d been waiting for so long. What was a few more days to centuries of waiting. He would wait for however long it took.


    A gentle hand reached for his neck and a finger traced a small scar that was there. It was the symbol that bound him here. Kept him from leaving this small world reduced to nothing but a blip in the larger existence.


    It had taken far too much from Caldath. So Caldath was going to take as much as he could from existence.


    This would merely be one in a long line of vengeance.

 SEVENTY: Question

    Clinton went flying into the bone white wall. Blood trailed the path he left. When he smacked into the wall, the sound was loud. Melmarc could picture the man breaking a few ribs. That was if he wasn¡¯t already dead. Although there was a part of him that doubted death would come for Clinton so soon.


    Still, his mind had eliminated the Delver. He was no longer a part of their survival. So Melmarc acted on his own. With the leader of the other team down, someone had to take charge. There had to be a second in command.


    ¡°Medic!¡±


    Nelson was bellowing as loud as he could. He strained his throat, voice loud as a gorilla could roar. In the corner, Claire stood against the wall, watching with sharp eyes. She already had her attention on Clinton¡¯s motionless body. Her problem was clearly how to get to it.


    Melmarc could help. But first.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 3/4]


    The [Damned] that had stabbed Clinton had given him over a hundred [EP]. Maybe it was selfish on his path, but while it was not at the top of the list, gathering as much [EP] as he could remained a priority.


    There was a popular saying that there was nothing that was not important in a portal. And the more confusing it was, the more important it might be.


    [EP] wasn¡¯t confusing at all. Melmarc knew just how important it was.


    He swung his arm in a side throw, putting all the effort he could muster into it. He tossed himself to the side in a dive as the ring of mana left his hand. Hoping to keep track of it with [World of Insight] as best he could, he focused as much as he could on the monster¡¯s indicator as he ran straight for Claire.


    ¡°MEDIC!¡± Nelson continued to roar as he took a beating from two of their assailants while giving back just as good as he got.


    Tanks were not known for their versatility. Speed often eluded them. Agility was a companion long divorced the moment they got their class. Dexterity was a laugh in their face. And a heavy pool of mana never blessed them. But you could always trust them to be battering rams.


    Strength was their god and it blessed them greatly for bending the knee.


    [World of Insight] told Melmarc the creature he¡¯d thrown his ring of mana at had succumbed. Its head was servered cleanly from its body. His interface was a close second.


    [You have slain Damned(B)]


    [You have gained EP 124]


    What the interface didn¡¯t tell him, however, was that the ring of mana continued to cut through the air, disappearing from the entire battle field. But even as interesting as it was to note, the creature¡¯s reaction to dying was more attention grabbing. Disturbing.


    Its head fell unceremoniously from its body and hit the ground without making a sound. Then its arms came up, gauntleted hand and shield, frantically reaching for where its head had once been.


    The panic lasted barely two heartbeats long, but it was enough to make Melmarc think. Then both arms dropped to the side and the [Damned] simply toppled over.


    Melmarc charged down the small battlefield, mind active even as he made his way for the Healer. It was as if he knew where everything was. And it didn¡¯t feel like the advantage given by [World of Insight]. It was like watching a chess game. Knowing where your knight was and where it needed to be to save your queen that was suffering under the barrage of your opponent¡¯s assault.


    Right now Nelson was their strongest member, holding down every [Damned] that came to him with the stubbornness of a dying star shooting through a night sky. Five of the creatures had already lost their lives to him.


    Jed was in the distance somewhere, not very far, killing his third [Damned]. Unlike Nelson who was brute force, Jed was more calculated attacks. It took him longer to dispatch of his enemies in more moves than Nelson used, but he got the job done.


    Melmarc ran straight at Claire, snatching her by the wrist as he barreled past her. She resisted, but only for a moment. Then she was running across the battle with him.


    ¡°How much time will you need?¡± Melmarc asked as they ran, head on a swivel, keeping his attention on every indicator in the battlefield.


    ¡°A minute or two,¡± Claire answered.


    Dissonant.


    ¡°Will you need more or less?¡± Melmarc twirled his hand, ignited a ring of mana around his wrist and flung it to the side without looking.


    It slammed into one of the [Damned] that had turned to them. It was missing the armor around its torso, bounding around in a helmet and armor to cover its lower body.


    ¡°More,¡± Claire said after a moment of hesitation, probably oblivious to Melmarc¡¯s target.


    ¡°You have five.¡± Melmarc sucked in a deep breath and summoned another ring. ¡°Make it work.¡±


    They came to a skidding halt next to Clinton¡¯s body. Blood leaked from the man¡¯s mouth. He spotted one bad eye, not swollen but sunken. So deep it was hard to make out if there was still an eye. He breathed in shallow gasps, like a man dying dramatically in a movie.


    It was supposed to hurt to watch. It did not.


    Melmarc¡¯s attention sharpened on three of the [Damned]. They had their eyes on Jude who stood, keeping each one away from him and Naymond with blasts of air that looked more like shockwaves.


    Each blast was strong enough to send the [Damned] flying back. Sadly, they were too weak to kill them. Naymond seemed to be having a hard time as well. In the beginning, a diving [Damned] would fall at his attention. Now, some of them were getting past him. They completed their leaps only to be thrown back by Jed¡¯s attack.


    Melmarc stood guard in front of Clinton while Claire did whatever she could to get the man back on his feet. He stood with knees slightly bent and shoulders tensed. It was a combat stance. In self defense he¡¯d been taught it prepared the body to act at a moment¡¯s notice. On his self defense teacher, the stance looked a little more different. For one, his shoulders were always relaxed.


    With the man, his combat stance felt far more natural.


    Melmarc checked on Claire as he watched the battle continue to unfold in front of him. While she had a hand to Clinton¡¯s lips and two fingers on his wrist, the others continued to do their best to survive.


    As the others fought, Nelson did his best to make his way to where Melmarc was. Watching the battle, Melmarc noticed that, for some reason, the [Damned] were drawn to Nelson. Even with their numbers dwindling, their attention continued to shift to the tank as long as it wasn¡¯t occupied.


    In the distance, their reinforcement was drawing closer.


    He should go left, Melmarc thought, watching the fight. There was a scorched portion of land in that direction. The state of the land wasn¡¯t what was important. The fact that there was a small cottage there was.


    Nelson could pull the [Damned] away from the others¡ªserve as bait since they were already drawn to him. As a tank, he could last much longer than the others. Beyond the small cottage extended into a scattering of buildings small enough to be called simple shops.


    If Nelson could lead them into the maze of buildings, he could buy a little more time.


    But how will he come back?


    The man wasn¡¯t known for his speed. What would happen if the [Damned] caught up to him?


    That part of the plan didn¡¯t pop up in Melmarc¡¯s head. If he was being honest, it was surprising enough that he had come up with it. How had he even seen the battlefield enough to come up with it?


    Yes, he saw almost everything from where he stood, the fighting and the chaos. The perspiration on Jed¡¯s face. Jude beginning to breathe hard as he slowly ran low on mana¡ªprobably.


    But it was incomplete. It was like playing a game of chess with someone that was significantly better at it than him while he was running out of time. Melmarc could see the problem, but not the solution.


    Actually, he could see the solution, but only a part of it. And he knew with a childlike certainty that he was missing something.


    Not for the first time, he wondered how his life had gotten to this point. Here he was, trying to survive a fight while protecting a medic as she healed a wounded Delver. The question now was if Clinton would make it.


    He drew up another ring of mana. [Rings of Saturn] activated and he sent it flying at [Damned] that had drawn a little too close for comfort to Jed. It slammed into the creature, sent it staggering a lot of steps back. It also drew Jed¡¯s attention to it and the Delver was already dancing circles around it.


    So far, while the Delvers were fighting in their own ways, Jude¡¯s the least impressive to Melmarc, he found Jed¡¯s style of fighting to be the most impressive.


    Maybe it¡¯s because he¡¯s the underdog.


    ¡°We need to get him out of here,¡± Claire said from behind him. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with this place. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s getting better. Not fast enough.¡±


    Melmarc took the time to look back. He was expecting to catch something of note. Something that would help him understand what Claire was talking about. He did not.


    All he got was that Clinton¡¯s breathing remained shallow. The man could be slowly getting better or worse and he wouldn¡¯t be able to tell.


    Suddenly he found himself thinking of the school for the Gifted that he would go to. Not necessarily a thought of which one he wanted to attend but what he would learn there. From what he knew, they had a vast array of classes you could take.


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t considered it before but now he thought he would like to learn as much as he could about the medical side of Delving.


    It was funny how despite where he now found himself, he was still interested in becoming a Delver. But what was he going to do? He had to admit that he was surviving quite well here. Also, from everything that had happened to him, it was as if the interface was determined to make him a Delver.


    How else am I going to get [EP]s?


    Nelson pulled up to them a moment after. His clothes were torn and tattered. His vest that had carried his explosives was practically nonexistent at this point. He¡¯d lost his guns and Melmarc couldn¡¯t see any visible magazines on him. From the cuts and tears in his clothes, Melmarc could see lines from old scars and red welts that looked as if someone had taken a cane to the man quite violently.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°We need to move,¡± Melmarc said to the man, addressing what his brain felt was more important. ¡°We can¡¯t hold this location and its only a matter of time before reinforcements swarm us. We can¡¯t make it.¡±


    Nelson gave him an odd look. There was surprise in it, but more confusion than surprise. Regardless, the man nodded, agreeing with him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take Clinton,¡± he said, reaching down for the Delver.


    Claire stepped away. ¡°Be careful. He has far too much internal bleeding for my comfort.¡±


    He¡¯s a Delver. He¡¯ll survive.


    The thought almost spilled from Melmarc¡¯s lips to become words, but he held his tongue on time. They were true words, but he was very strongly aware of how empty of emotion they were. They were, at best, apathetic. At worse inconsiderate.


    ¡°We need the other¡¯s attention.¡± Melmarc stared at the group as they fought.


    He needed a way to get their attention. He was beginning to understand the importance of comms in action movies. If they had comms right now, he could¡¯ve just given his orders. But they didn¡¯t.


    People rarely ever carried comms into portals. It wasn¡¯t unreasonable since comms didn¡¯t work in most portals. Instead, there were classes that had certain telepathic skills that often served as some form of communication or the other. Sadly, Clinton¡¯s group didn¡¯t have one.


    The fight raged on. Oddly enough, despite Naymond¡¯s complete incompatibility with their current predicament, he somehow looked strangely at ease in the fight. It wasn¡¯t quite in the way he fought but in the facial expression he had. It was far less worried than when Melmarc had met him.


    Maybe it¡¯s because he¡¯s not currently dying.


    ¡°But where do we go?¡± Nelson stood next to him, Clinton in his arms, carried like a princess.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think anything of it. It was the better way to carry a wounded man in his opinion. Better than throwing him over the shoulder.


    ¡°There.¡± Melmarc pointed down the path he had intended on having Nelson draw the attention of the [Damned] towards. ¡°If we¡¯re fast enough, we should be able to lose them that way.¡±


    Claire looked from Melmarc to the cottage. ¡°There?¡±


    Melmarc nodded, activating [Rings of Saturn] once more. A ring of mana appeared around his wrist, bright and heavy. He threw it into one of the [Damned]. It had ventured a little too close to them and the blast had sent it flying back.


    Again, Claire looked at him. There was something in her expression. A question. Did she not trust the plan? Was she having issues taking orders from someone as young as him? She hadn¡¯t struck him as someone who would have issues taking orders from him.


    ¡°TO THE COTTAGE!¡±


    Melmarc winced as the roaring sound of Nelson¡¯s voice split the air. The man¡¯s voice had been like a bear¡¯s roar, if it was amplified by a microphone and too many speakers.


    He looked at the man the way you looked at someone who¡¯d just pinched you to get your attention.


    ¡°What?¡± Nelson shrugged.


    ¡°You¡¯ve just given away our exit strategy,¡± Claire told him.


    Nelson frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t think they speak English, though.¡±


    ¡°Me, either,¡± Melmarc said, thoughtful.


    He hadn¡¯t had to speak English around any of them, though. But he felt it was a safe bet that they didn¡¯t speak English. They didn¡¯t look like they had the brain power for it.


    They also look like they¡¯re supposed to be dead but they¡¯re not.


    The others had started falling back, Jed moving with a dancer¡¯s grace while Jude stumbled back, blasting away at the creatures with a barely perceptible attack. Melmarc still felt like it was shockwaves of some kind.


    Does he look more tired than usual? Melmarc wondered, paying the man attention through [World of Insight].


    He was definitely sweating now, breathing a little too heavily, too. At this point it was beginning to look like he wouldn¡¯t make the retreat if Naymond wasn¡¯t supporting him.


    Still, they gathered, pushing back the [Damned].


    ¡°What cottage?¡± Jude asked. He was panting. Tired.


    ¡°Can you keep going?¡± Melmarc asked him.


    Jude frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, as long as we can get out of here. My skill isn¡¯t as effective as I thought it would be.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised. ¡°They''re B-rank. A little more powerful than what we know.¡±


    They were backing away now. In a matter of seconds, they would be running. Hopefully, weaving through the buildings and losing the [Damned].


    ¡°No one¡¯s told me about any cottage,¡± Jude said. He was the first to start jogging.


    Claire pointed. ¡°That one!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s far,¡± Jude complained.


    Nelson followed after him, jogging with as much care as he could muster so that he didn¡¯t end up tossing Clinton around too much.


    Melmarc drew another ring of mana. His interface gave him a warning along with it.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 1/4]


    Melmarc frowned at it as he remembered that the skill had still not evolved, despite already going past the ten percent mastery threshold.


    Just like [Secrecy] he was beginning to wonder if there was something about contaminated skills that wasn¡¯t common knowledge. At least something more than what he knew.


    He flung the ring of mana at the closest [Damned]. Behind it, an arc of mana followed. Then a hand grabbed Melmarc by the shoulder and pulled. As his ring of mana struck a vicious blow to the [Damned]¡¯s mid section. The slash struck true. Surprisingly, the creature hit the ground and didn¡¯t get up.


    [You have assisted to slay Damned(B)]


    [You have gained EP 59]


    Melmarc hesitated for only a moment at the notification before he turned and ran with the others.


    Jude turned out to be the slowest of the group. Slower even than Claire. He panted like someone who¡¯d been running for too long and wheezed with each step. Melmarc was beginning to worry that the man would topple at any time.


    His ribs couldn¡¯t be the thing that was holding him back because Claire had healed it a while back.


    The [Damned] chased behind them, jerky and chaotic. The only time they covered any real distance was when they darted forward with a sharp thrust. Unlike the [Damned] beyond the wall, these ones had more complicated patterns. But they used only one to cover distances. A sharp, strong, forward thrust. Stabbing straight through the air.


    Melmarc and the others managed to increase the distance between them and the [Damned] by the time they got to cottage. They didn¡¯t enter the cottage, though, as it was not a part of the plan.


    Melmarc smelt something edible from inside it as they ran past it. It was food, well seasoned ribs. Having not tasted a single meal for the past few days, it tempted him. But he shook it from his mind and continued to run.


    He found he was the only one that had been tempted by it.


    Their feet carried them past three houses before they took a turn to the right. Jude staggered at the turn and Jed pulled him from falling to his feet. Claire ran with all the grace of someone who hadn¡¯t done any work and Naymond kept his eyes fixed in front of him.


    Nelson was all care. A tyrannical gorilla seeking the grace of a ballerina. It was an interesting sight to watch him cradle Clinton so carefully.


    ¡°Which way?¡± Nelson asked, and Melmarc realized he wasn¡¯t at the head of the run.


    ¡°Just a moment,¡± he answered, eyes squinted.


    [World of Insight] was showing him a lot of things but they were not enough. With a frown, he activated [Knowledge is Power].


    It blasted out of him as he ran. ¡°Left," he answered.


    Everyone took the turn. No questions were asked. Only obedience. Melmarc found that he liked it. It was a surprisingly good feeling to lead.


    To his surprise, no one reacted when the burst of mana returned to him. No one except Naymond who winced once again. Melmarc decided that when he had the time, he would have to talk to Naymond about it.


    Hopefully he¡¯ll give me a straight answer.


    Even as the thought bubbled in his mind, Melmarc doubted it would happen. From the little he knew, in this world there were straight answers and there were Naymond¡¯s straight answers.


    They were not the same.


    Melmarc¡¯s mind lit up with knowledge once more. He knew almost everything within a range that he was now realizing was very wide.


    ¡°Right!¡± he called out. ¡°Four houses down, left, then we go around the third house on our right.¡±


    No one stopped running, but there was a slight confusion. Melmarc didn¡¯t blame them. They took a sharp right and ran down the path, feet stamping down blades of grass confident enough to stand tall.


    Jude was beginning to slow the party down. His feet lagged and he technically dragged himself just to keep up.


    Melmarc slowed because of this. His options were to abandon Jed to his fate to ensure the survival of the team or slow himself down and risk the possibility of being caught up to by the [Damned].


    Jed was the first to lag. ¡°Come on, Jude. It¡¯s not far.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc ignored the thought. He looked back. The [Damned] were rounding the corner. With no critters keeping track of them, they could escape the creatures if they just fell out of sight long enough.


    Jude looked up at Melmarc and Jed. He was bent forward, tired. His hands propped him up by resting on his knees as he caught his breath. He¡¯d led them to standing.


    He gestured tiredly, shooing them away. ¡°Just go,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll find a way to you guys. Four houses down. Left. Around the house on my right.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t survive it,¡± Jed refused.


    Jude scowled at him. ¡°I¡¯ve been a Delver long enough to know what I can survive.¡±


    ¡°Guys.¡± Melmarc frowned. He¡¯d just made eye contact with one of the [Damned]. It was a very disturbing feeling. ¡°We have to go.¡±


    Jude pushed Jed. It was the weakest action Melmarc had ever seen the Delver execute.


    ¡°Just go!¡± Jude hissed. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it¡ª¡±


    ¡°Fuck it!¡± Melmarc swore, interrupting the man.


    Jude let out a slight grunt as Melmarc picked him off the ground and threw him over his shoulder.


    Jed seemed surprised by the action. Melmarc would be lying if he wasn¡¯t surprised, too. For all his size, he had never picked a man up before. He could pick up small people, though. He¡¯d picked up children. But never men.


    Then he turned and ran. Jed followed.


    In front of them, the others were gone. Turned down one path or the other.


    ¡°Which way?¡± Jed asked.


    Melmarc pointed. On his shoulder, Jude weighed almost nothing. The man was also silent, which was a good thing. There had been a part of Melmarc that had expected him to complain.


    Saved a Delver¡¯s life in a portal, he thought as he ran, then took the turn he¡¯d told the others to take. I can add that to my resume.


    They took a turn at the indicated house, Jude bouncing on Melmarc¡¯s shoulder. Melmarc could only imagine how much discomfort his stomach had to be going through.


    They ran a little longer before rounding the chosen house. Melmarc knew where they were going. At least he knew where it would lead them away from. What it would lead them to was a different conversation entirely. Of that, he had no idea.


    Right now we just need to survive.


    The moment they went around the final house. A hand reached out and grabbed Melmarc. It pulled him abruptly with a surprising amount of strength, taking him and Jude with ease. Another grabbed Jed.


    They were pulled into a small shack, large enough to hold at least ten people.


    ¡°We¡¯re trapped.¡± Claire said it as if it was a matter of fact. Then she started sucking on her thumb.


    Everybody paused, eyes turning to her.


    ¡°What?¡± she pulled her thumb from her mouth. ¡°It¡¯s skill-related.¡±


    Melmarc doubted anybody believed her. But since he didn¡¯t get a sharp ¡®dissonant¡¯ in his head, she was probably right.


    Nelson raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion as Melmarc lowered Jude back to his feet. The Delver didn¡¯t make eye contact. Not that Melmarc was interested.


    Instead, he immediately went to work. The walls of the small shack were still intact. Planks of wood held together by nails and gum of some fashion. The ground was covered in hay which was also green and there were enough gaps between the planks to watch what was happening outside through.


    Jed eased up to one and stared through it with one eye closed.


    Melmarc bent down at the center of the shack. Information from [Knowledge is Power] still filled his mind. He knew what was here. It would help them, but only from the threat they currently faced.


    And that threat is a small army.


    Melmarc frowned as he pushed the hay aside. It covered the ground like grass. When he was done sweeping it aside with his hand, Claire standing over his shoulders and staring down, he was greeted to the sight of what looked like the door to a cellar.


    Melmarc let out a relieved sigh. He¡¯d known it was there. [Knowledge is Power] had all but told him so. But there had been a slow itch in his mind, a fear that he was wrong. He didn¡¯t know why.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he hissed, looking at the handle to the door. A massive padlock, old and rusted stared right at him. ¡°It¡¯s locked.¡±


    ¡°Move,¡± Nelson growled as Melmarc raised his hand.


    Melmarc moved to the side and Nelson shattered the padlock with a single kick. After that, Melmarc pulled it open. It was a thick door, made of heavy wood. He raised it with relative ease. Beneath it was a stairway that led down, deeper into the ground.


    Nelson turned to it. ¡°Go.¡±


    Jed didn¡¯t hesitate. He headed straight for the new path and pulled Jude along with him. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if the Delver thought that Jude would want to play sacrificial lamb or hesitate. He didn¡¯t ask.


    Naymond went next. Then Nelson looked at Melmarc.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°You first. You¡¯ve got a wounded.¡±


    As far as he was concerned, the wounded and the medic were always a priority. Why? Because they were the weak ones in the heat of battle. It was common sense to guide them first when it was time to escape.


    Once Nelson was down the stairs, Claire went next. She was no longer sucking on her thumb. Melmarc focused on [World of Insight]. It showed him that the [Damned] were around them. They moved about in their odd way, as if searching, but not going into any of the houses.


    He slipped beneath the door and lowered it above him as he went further down the stairs. In a matter of seconds, the entire stairway was swallowed in darkness.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t need the light, though. With [Knowledge is Power] and [World of Insight] acting together, he knew all.


    It was why he knew to stop before he ran into Claire.


    Hidden by the darkness, she stood on a step facing him. Melmarc doubted she had stopped because there was suddenly no light.


    ¡°We have to move,¡± he told her.


    ¡°It¡¯s dark,¡± she said simply, voice a low whisper. ¡°And we no longer have lights.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t true. Clinton had a glow stick in his back pocket. But it seemed Claire didn¡¯t have this piece of information.


    ¡°Clinton¡¯s got one in his back pocket,¡± he said.


    Down the stairs, Nelson moved about carefully. In front of Melmarc, Claire raised a careful hand, as if gauging the distance between him and her.


    He didn¡¯t move.


    Before long, the stairway was touched by the glow of fiery red from a glow stick. It wasn¡¯t very bright, but it was enough to see with.


    ¡°I have a question.¡± Claire met Melmarc¡¯s eyes as she said this.


    Backing the light, her face was nothing but a silhouette in the dark. But some of the light touched Melmarc¡¯s face. A touch of it threatened to get in his eye.


    ¡°Hopefully,¡± he said, very aware of the serious expression she had on, ¡°I¡¯ll have the answer.¡±


    ¡°I hope so, too,¡± Claire said.


    ¡°So what¡¯s the question?¡±


    ¡°Are you Bipolar?¡±

 SEVENTY-ONE: Are We Lost?

    Melmarc watched Claire, a little surprised.


    ¡°Sorry?¡± he said. It came out as an apology instead of what it was meant to be. An actual question.


    ¡°No,¡± Claire said, careful, as if picking her words. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be sorry about.¡±


    Melmarc paused, then shook his head.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± he tried again, ¡°but what did you say?¡±


    ¡°Bipolar.¡± Claire was more than happy to repeat it. ¡°Are you Bipolar? Have you been to the hospital about it? Have you been diagnosed with it?¡±


    She was quite straight to the point about it. Mincing her words were not a problem. In fact, if there was something that was not considered polite about asking the question, you wouldn¡¯t be able to tell from hearing her ask it.


    Claire asked it as simply as a person asked for the color you wished to paint your house.


    Melmarc shook his head in response. ¡°No.¡±


    They were still speaking with their quiet voices, low enough to not be heard through a thin wall. High enough that whoever they were talking to did not need to strain themselves to hear you.


    Claire¡¯s brow furrowed. It was almost difficult to see since she still remained a silhouette cast by the glow stick now in Nelson¡¯s hand.


    ¡°That¡¯s odd,¡± she said.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know how to reply to that. Lower down the stairs, Naymond was staring at the air with a frown on his face. Jed waited patiently with Jude. Both men looked as if they were waiting patiently for an important conversation to be concluded.


    Or they also want to know the answer.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Naymond mumbled to himself. ¡°Can¡¯t pull that off even if I tried.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t pull what off?¡± Jed asked. He was prone to talking more when it involved Naymond. For other people, he could allow then a thousand words and offer only one in return.


    Melmarc was beginning to sense that there was some kind of rivalry there between Jed and Naymond. The funny thing was that Naymond didn¡¯t even seem to be aware of it. He might as well not be a part of it.


    ¡°A turban.¡± Naymond looked at Jed as if his answer was perfectly acceptable. ¡°I can pull of a hat,¡± he continued, ¡°but a turban is just¡­ too much. I don¡¯t have the symmetry for it.¡±


    Jed looked from Naymond to Melmarc. Then back.


    Melmarc almost shook his head. He had expected the Delver to understand that making sense of Naymond¡¯s words at this point was a waste of brain power. Naymond would confuse you until he didn¡¯t want to confuse you.


    It was really just that simple.


    ¡°Guys.¡± Nelson¡¯s voice stomped through the air. It was low, but deep enough to be a rumble. ¡°We don¡¯t know where these stairs lead, but we should get going.¡±


    ¡°Yea,¡± Jude agreed.


    ¡°Any where''s better than being close to those things right now,¡± Jed said, nodding.


    Claire spared Melmarc one more glance before nodding and turning away. She looked down at her feet, picking out each step with the light of the glow stick in its red glow. She counted her steps as she descended.


    The others stood quietly and patiently until she got down to their level. Melmarc was slightly surprised to find that the others had been eight steps down. It wasn¡¯t that he hadn¡¯t been aware of the distance, it was just that he hadn¡¯t been paying it much in the way of attention.


    When she got to them, everyone started walking. Melmarc followed behind them, unsure of what lay ahead.


    There wasn¡¯t much in the way of talking as they walked. The staircase was long. It was not winding or spiral. It did not curve to the left or veer to the right. It went straight down and no way else.


    It left Melmarc with a touch of concern. Where exactly would it lead them. The palace they were supposed to be aiming for sprouted upwards not downwards. He feared they were going farther and farther from their target with each step.


    As they walked, Melmarc took in the sights. No. ¡®Sights¡¯ wasn¡¯t the right word here. He did not watch with his eyes or pay much attention with the sense of sight. The others used it graciously, though. Staring down at the steps beneath their legs. Watching the walls were the light of the glow stick cast its light.


    Melmarc, however, sensed these things. Much like Naymond, he suspected. The algae on the wall, if it was really algae, grew to right and only to the right. He noticed it in the way it crawled, ever so slowly and ever so surely.


    It was a weird phenomenon to actively notice algae move. It wasn¡¯t something special about his skills right now that showed him. No. The algae were actually moving, only so slowly that you would need to pay attention to it over an extended period of time to notice it.


    They were also yellow-ish, so there was that. Portal algae doing as portal algae should.


    Beneath their feet the steps were very solid. Solid enough that Melmarc was beginning to believe that each step was likely just one massive stone slab, carved to fit a specific form.


    They walked down the stairs for ten minutes and a little more. Silence accompanied their walk. Jed stared at other things from the steps beneath him occasionally, but ultimately returned his attention to them. Jude stared, nothing else. Claire always seemed lost in thought.


    And Naymond? The [Sage] was like a child on a field trip. Bubbly and excited. Even if silent.


    During the walk, Melmarc learned a little more about [World of Insight]. Using it for something as mundane as a stroll down a very long single flight of stairs showed him something. Unlike the time he¡¯d used it to accomplish the task of chasing a runaway Confidential Informant or delivering human parts or fighting off monsters in a portal, this time he had it on with no task at hand.


    And the absence of a conscious task to do with it taught him a single thing. To use it, his sense of sight and sound were important. And a hindered sense didn¡¯t necessarily hinder the skill. For example, closing his eyes did not stop him from knowing what was in front of him. And he didn¡¯t hear sounds.


    If he was to describe it properly, it was more akin to simply gaining information. But it wasn¡¯t perfect. It was like a skilled typer, typing away on a computer keyboard. They could do it with their eyes closed. They could do it while having a conversation with someone, whether the conversation was important or not. They could do it while looking away.


    They didn¡¯t see the letters or characters on the keys they typed. They simply knew they were there.


    The skill had a downside, though. There had been at least one occasion during their fight at the wall where he hadn¡¯t been able to notice everything. A time when the skill hadn¡¯t been so omniscient.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know why.


    At the foot of the stair case was a large door. Everyone groaned in relief when they saw it. Something about the dreary monotony of the task of walking down an almost infinite flight of stairs hadn¡¯t sat right with anyone.


    The problem of a journey with no knowledge of its destination was daunting in a way.


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t suffered it for as long as the others had, though. [World of Insight] had told him of the door a good amount of time before they had reached it. and if he had been aware of it, so had Naymond. It was more likely that the [Sage] had been aware of it long before him.


    Just how far is his reach? Melmarc wondered. With the skill still less that ten percent in his arsenal, Melmarc could see a lot.


    And with how much it gave him, he wondered what upgrades could come with it. He wondered just how powerful it could become. At over thirty levels, as Naymond had claimed his was, just how far could the [Sage] see.


    ¡°Door,¡± Jude said, staring at the massive door in front of them.


    It was old and tall, spanning as high as twenty feet. It wasn¡¯t an estimate or an exaggeration. It was an exact measurement. Twenty feet. No less. No more.


    Melmarc was sure of it.


    Claire looked up at it. ¡°How tall do you think it is?¡±


    ¡°Twenty feet,¡± Naymond said easily.


    That answered Melmarc¡¯s question of how he knew and he could be so sure. [World of Insight] was giving him perfect measuring skills.


    What else does it come with?


    Jude leaned forward, inspecting the door. After a moment, he looked up, still inspecting the door. ¡°I don¡¯t see any handle.¡±


    ¡°Me, too,¡± Claire said.


    ¡°So how do we open it?¡± Jed asked. He sounded as if he only did so for the sake of conversation.


    ¡°You push,¡± Melmarc answered.


    But something told him it wouldn¡¯t be that simple. From what he could tell, the door wasn¡¯t even locked. With hinges it might as well just be two slabs of well crafted stones. Nothing more or less.


    Jed and Jude walked up to the door. With palms placed squarely on the door¡ªJude on one side and Jed on the other¡ªthey pushed. Then they strained, groaned and grunted. They pushed some more.


    The door did not budge.


    So they changed tactics. Together, they leaned into their sides of the door with their shoulders and pushed again. Again, they strained, groaned and grunted. The door did not open.


    ¡°I guess we¡¯re stuck.¡± Jed stepped back, dusting his hands against each other. He looked up at the door with a frown on his face.


    Jude did the same. ¡°At least its better than getting stuck up there.¡±


    Naymond sidled up to Melmarc.


    ¡°Pure mana is heavy,¡± he said in a very low voice. ¡°The heaviest kind of mana.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know that mana officially had weight. He¡¯d always assumed they were weightless, like light. Why? Because they were practically intangible. A magical thing.


    ¡°Okay,¡± he replied, unsure of where Naymond was going with his words.


    ¡°To make it visible and strong enough to use as an attack,¡± Naymond looked around as if he was sharing a secret, ¡°you would need to be strong enough to carry it.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Which means you¡¯ll need some strength stats,¡± Naymond said. ¡°And skills always come with the stats needed to operate them.¡±


    Melmarc turned his head to look at him.


    Naymond nodded at Jed and Jude. ¡°Maybe you should go help?¡±


    The [Faker] class didn¡¯t have the kinds of stats Melmarc had. Most people thought that because of their need to mimic other class skills, that they would have a bit of a rounded stat distribution. But they did not.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    In fact, not all [Fakers] could copy just any skill. It was what made Melmarc¡¯s oddly different. He was yet to run into a skill that [Bless Your Kindness] deemed him unable to copy.


    He hadn¡¯t really given it much thought before, but if he was being honest, he was probably an overpowered [Faker]. He had the copying ability they all had. Then some more.


    Melmarc stepped up to the door, but before he got to it, Nelson interrupted him. The man remained the only person in the group that stood taller than Melmarc. Wider, too.


    Most people would find the man¡¯s size intimidating. Melmarc did not, and he doubted it was because of his own relative height. In truth, growing up with a man his father¡¯s size had somehow given him an immunity to daunting heights. Then there was Eroms.


    ¡°Here,¡± Nelson said, offering him Clinton¡¯s body. ¡°She says he¡¯s healing but it will take some time.¡±


    Melmarc took Clinton carefully. His vest was still stained red where the [Damned] had stabbed him with a sword. There was no exit wound. And the current wound seemed to be healing quite nicely.


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. [World of Insight] was amazing. All he¡¯d done was look at Clinton¡¯s body and he¡¯d learned all that at a glance. He was beginning to truly understand why even at ranks as low as ''F'' Gifted excelled in simple careers. Imagine a doctor with [World of Insight]. As long as they had the necessary medical knowledge, diagnosing wounded patients would be easy.


    Surgeons would be able to see everything at once during a surgery, avoid almost any potential problem working on one area might cause to another area.


    It was good to know that if he didn¡¯t make it as a Delver, he still had a use in other fields. Not that he was going to avoid the Delver path.


    With Clinton no longer in his arms, Nelson stepped up to the door. Jed and Jude gave way for him and he placed both hands on the door, one on each side. Then he pushed. He did not strain. He did not groan or grunt.


    The door gave and opened inward. The loud gravelly sound of stone scraping stone filled the air and hinges ancient and not oiled groaned like an orchestra of terrible throat singers. It announced them enthusiastically.


    Naymond snorted in disappointment. It drew Melmarc¡¯s attention to him.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked Naymond.


    Naymond shrugged as if it wasn¡¯t a big deal. ¡°Just a bit disappointed.¡±


    ¡°That he opened it easily?¡±


    ¡°Not that.¡± Naymond gestured dismissively. ¡°It would¡¯ve just been really interesting if we had continued to fail just to find out that we¡¯ve been pushing a pull door. Would¡¯ve been hilarious.¡±


    As serious as the situation was, Melmarc couldn¡¯t deny it. There was always something oddly funny about finding out you were pushing a pull door or pulling a push door.


    Nelson returned to Melmarc and took Clinton from him. He lifted the man back into his arms very easily, then stepped aside.


    Melmarc looked at everyone around. They stood casually. There was no formation, no plans. They were alert, but nothing more.


    Was it because their leader wasn¡¯t conscious to give commands?


    ¡°Onwards!¡± Naymond pointed dramatically and stomped towards the door.


    Jed, however, stepped beyond the door before him, gun raised. At this point, Melmarc doubted there was anything they would run into that a gun could stop. Still, he assumed Jed was very much aware of that. The Delver probably moved with the gun out of some kind of habit.


    Beyond the door was a wide hallway. Its ceiling was so high it seemed to rise unending. The hallway was easily large enough to be walked by an entire school assembly. By Melmarc¡¯s estimate, it was as wide as a basketball court was long.


    Its walls were old yet adorned and without windows. Anyone who looked would be able to tell that this had once been a place built with artistic beauty in mind.


    They walked in relative silence. The heads of the Delvers were always on a swivel. Even though there were no doors in the walls, no obvious exits or entrances beyond the door they¡¯d used to get here, the Delvers never let their guard down.


    When the hallway forked in two directions, they did not split up. No one made the suggestion and Melmarc doubted anyone even considered it. At least no one except Naymond who continued to take suggestive glances to the left path as they went right.


    The relative peace standing on the back of the violence they had gone through above ground was welcome. Melmarc allowed himself relax into it. Even though the air wasn¡¯t the nicest to breathe in, there was something good about the absence of violence in it.


    But there was something bad about the anticipation of violence in it. It was, Melmarc realized, the reason the Delvers continued to remain alert.


    No one knew what would come next. No one knew what they could run into. Above ground, they had been treated to dilapidated buildings fit for normal people and had fought tall enemies. Now they walked a hallway fit for giants that they had gotten into through a door as high as twenty feet.


    Who knew what they would run into here.


    After another turn Melmarc adjusted his pace and cadence until he found himself walking beside Claire. The Healer gave him a simple look before returning her attention to the path in front of her.


    They continued to walk with the light of a glowstick being their only real illumination. It wasn¡¯t too long before she spoke.


    ¡°I take it you see in the dark, too,¡± she said.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a skill.¡±


    ¡°Active or passive?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Active.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a lie. At least not necessarily. [World of Insight] was a passive skill, but as far as [Bless Your Kindness] was concerned, Melmarc wasn¡¯t using the skill. He was simply enjoying the buff granted to him from one of the effects of [Bless Your Kindness] which was an active skill.


    Claire nodded once and their stroll lulled back into silence. But Melmarc hadn¡¯t chosen to walk with her.


    ¡°Uhmm¡­¡± He scratched his jaw with his index finger nervously. ¡°Can I ask you something?¡±


    ¡°Sure.¡± Claire kept her eyes forward. She probably wasn¡¯t ignoring him, just keeping track of the path in front of her with the light.


    ¡°Why did you ask if I¡¯m Bipolar?¡±


    She gave him a glance. It was a considering glance. ¡°You¡¯re not, right?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°So why are you asking?¡± she said.


    They all took another turn. Naymond was now leading the group. Melmarc had no idea how that had happened.


    ¡°If you asked,¡± Melmarc said, ¡°it means you probably saw something that made you ask.¡±


    Claire¡¯s steps slowed. Her lips puckered slightly in thought.


    Then she shook her head. ¡°It was nothing important.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc frowned at that. Whatever she¡¯d seen couldn¡¯t be so terrible that she¡¯d have to lie about it. Right?


    Now that he thought about it, this dissonant thing might be a bigger problem than he¡¯d thought. He¡¯d had it for a while now but he could say that he hadn¡¯t really put it to work.


    Imagine how bad it¡¯s going to be when I get out.


    Talking to so many people would be a chore. It was no secret that people lied a lot. About the complex things. About the simple things. Some people lied because they had to. Some lied simply because they could.


    Dissonant would ring in his head for a very long time.


    Maybe there¡¯s a way to control it.


    For now, Melmarc was placing his hopes on increasing the percentage of [Optimum Existence]. He hoped it would make all the difference in the world. Although, there was still the possibility of it giving him more problems.


    ¡°You act differently.¡±


    Melmarc paused and looked at Claire.


    ¡°Don¡¯t stop walking,¡± she told him.


    He resumed his steps. ¡°Differently?¡±


    It was an odd description to give since she hadn¡¯t known him before the portal. And even if for some reason she had, or she was working off some kind of information Alfa had given her, it still wasn¡¯t a reasonable deduction.


    Alfa would¡¯ve only known what he was like in a normal situation. Claire was witnessing him in a complicated situation.


    ¡°Sometimes you¡¯re calm and collected,¡± Claire continued. ¡°Usually at the right time, which makes it the wrong time for a kid your age. Other times you¡¯re more like a teenager.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t get it.


    It must have shown on his face because Claire added: ¡°When you fought against Jude¡ªimpressive take down, by the way¡ªyou were different from when you were talking about breaking his rib.¡±


    ¡°I was angry.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Claire looked up at the ceiling that was far too high. ¡°You didn¡¯t look or sound angry. You looked and sounded like you were just doing what had to be done. You didn¡¯t even sound vengeful.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t.¡±


    She looked at him with an expression Melmarc couldn¡¯t place. ¡°That¡¯s the sad thing. When someone shoots at you, as a child, you should be vengeful. Angry. You should want pay back.¡±


    Melmarc looked away. ¡°An eye for an eye only makes the world blind. Revenge isn¡¯t right.¡±


    Dissonant.


    He frowned and tried again. ¡°Revenge isn¡¯t good.¡±


    Nothing came. It made him wonder if he thought that revenge was right but not good or if he now had an independent moral compass working in his head in the name of dissonant.


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Claire agreed. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t change the fact that you should feel it as a child. Even the weak or the cowardly feel it. They suppress it for reasons like avoiding confrontation, but they still feel it.¡± She sighed. ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I had more important things in mind.¡±


    ¡°Like negotiating the punishment of a Delver,¡± Claire mused. ¡°Then you broke his rib without flinching. Like you were closing the lid of a pot.¡±


    Punishments should be meted out swiftly and without error.


    ¡°From what Nelson said, you were almost the same when you found us,¡± Claire continued. ¡°Then we left the building and you went back to acting like a teenager.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a teenager.¡±


    Claire nodded. ¡°That you are. A teenager that acts very differently in high pressure situations. Especially when they come with the threat of violence.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been in a violent portal for a while.¡±


    ¡°And while it justifies the reaction to violence, I can¡¯t say it justifies the absence of other emotions during that reaction.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying I¡¯m supposed to be less assured?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°That can lead to mistakes that could cause a lot of problems.¡±


    ¡°True. But that is what is normal. Your¡­ ability¡­ to change your personality to suit the situation, I was just wondering if it was a normal part of your life or if it¡¯s a recent thing.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. For some reason, that answer felt like a secret. It was a recent thing as far as he could tell. A very recent thing.


    ¡°Before I became a Delver,¡± she continued, ¡°I was a psychology major. It didn¡¯t take, so I went into medical diagnosis, specifically for mental illnesses.¡±


    Melmarc said nothing. He simply listened.


    ¡°This is usually the part where people ask me why I changed my field of study,¡± Claire offered.


    Melmarc was willing to play along. ¡°Why did you change your field of study?¡±


    ¡°Because I found something more interesting.¡± Claire smiled slightly. ¡°Do you know that despite how rare it is, there are Gifted who gain their classes only to later start displaying signs of mental damage.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know that. So he shook his head.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised,¡± Claire said. ¡°It¡¯s really rare and not public knowledge. But the Gifted aren¡¯t perfect. The studies available show that most of the Gifted that show signs of these issues tend to be the late bloomers. Those that get their classes after the age of sixteen.¡±


    That caught Melmarc¡¯s attention. It held it firmly. Ark had gained his class at seventeen. ¡°What are the symptoms.¡±


    Claire made a dismissive gesture. ¡°It¡¯s all mental issues, really. But the most dominant are Bipolar disorders. Almost split personalities. I had a boy, F-rank, who complained that he didn¡¯t love his girlfriend when the sun was at its highest.¡±


    That didn¡¯t sound like a personality disorder to Melmarc. It just sounded¡­ strange.


    Like someone who¡¯s forgotten how to forgive without punishment?


    ¡°In the end,¡± Claire continued, ¡°he found out that he loved no one when the sun was at its highest. Now he locks himself up at home during the day. He¡¯s kind of taken on a nocturnal lifestyle. There was also an E-rank I met once who was always under the overwhelming urge to protect people.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that a normal thing?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Claire shook her head. ¡°He only had the urge during life and death situations. If he didn¡¯t believe it was a life and death situation, he wouldn¡¯t care.¡±


    That was also weird.


    ¡°Were any of them [Fakers]?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Claire shook her head. ¡°I doubt the [Faker] class is ever at risk of experiencing that kind of mental problem. I don¡¯t think they''re even capable.¡±


    Because of the points in mental, Melmarc thought. Your skills gave you the required stats to use them¡­ or survive them.


    The [Faker] seemed like the one class that would be designed to make sure you didn¡¯t lose your sense of self since the entire class was about pretending to be something else.


    ¡°So you think I may be bipolar,¡± Melmarc said. It wasn¡¯t a question.


    ¡°Did you have a therapist, growing up?¡± she asked. The light from the glow stick ahead of them hit her face in a way that gave her a sorrowful look.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Then maybe you should ask for your medical chart.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sixteen,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°And I didn¡¯t have a constant therapist. I just had a traumatic experience and ended up getting a therapist.¡±


    Dissonant.


    That surprised him. He hadn¡¯t lied. He¡¯d had a traumatic experience where someone broke into his house and he¡¯d gotten a therapist. Where was the dissonance there?


    Maybe in the fact that you were told you had a traumatic experience and not in the fact that you actually felt like you had one?


    If that was true, that would be surprising.


    ¡°And what did your therapist tell you at the end of your sessions?¡± Claire asked.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± Melmarc stared ahead and found that Naymond was slowing down. ¡°My therapist told me that I handled it well and that I was doing fine.¡±


    ¡°What of your parents?¡±


    ¡°The same thing.¡±


    It was the main reason Melmarc had believed he was fine even after all these years. If there was one thing he could be certain about in life, it was that his father never lied. It wasn¡¯t a son¡¯s delusion of their parents, it was a learnt fact from growing up.


    Their dad only either told the truth or said nothing. It was just the way it was with him. Their mother didn¡¯t make a habit of lying, but she lied when she had to. If his reports from the therapist had been given to him by his mom, then maybe he would¡¯ve believed that there was a lie in there somewhere.


    But not his dad. His dad could never bring himself to lie.


    Claire shrugged. "If you didn''t have this problem before gaining your class, then maybe its a Gifted related issue. I know a few hospitals currently doing researches on this particular phenomenon. Maybe you can get permission from your parents to check it out."


    "To check if I''m bipolar because of my class?"


    Claire nodded. "Yes. It happens to people. It''s just best to be sure that it''s not happening to you."


    From ahead of them, Nelson spoke for the first time in a long while.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked.


    The urgency of his voice pulled Melmarc and Claire from their conversation. They looked up and found Naymond standing right in front of a door. It was the first door they were coming across since Nelson had opened the massive doors.


    It was normal sized with a faint orange hue around it.


    Naymond folded his arms, frowning. ¡°Let¡¯s not panic, alright?¡±


    At his age, Melmarc knew that if you wanted a group of people not to panic at the information you were about to give them, asking them not to panic before giving them the information wasn¡¯t always the best way to start.


    Unsurprisingly, Jude raised his gun and aimed at the door.


    A bit trigger happy, Melmarc guessed.


    Jed placed a hand above the barrel of Jude¡¯s gun and guided the aim down to the ground.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± he asked Naymond. ¡°Are we lost?¡±


    ¡°Well, anyone can argue that we¡¯ve been lost since we got into the portal.¡± His face pinched in thought. ¡°You know, there¡¯s no map and all that.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯re lost?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve always been lost.¡± Naymond shot a troubled glance at the door. ¡°But that¡¯s not the problem.¡±


    ¡°Then what is?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Naymond scratched the back of his neck. ¡°There¡¯s a problem behind this door.¡±


    That was odd. Melmarc couldn¡¯t sense anything behind the door. In fact, now that he was paying attention to it, he realized that the door wasn¡¯t even showing up in his senses as far as [World of Insight] was concerned.


    To the skill, there was no door there.


    That was definitely a problem.


    ¡°What¡¯s the problem behind the door?¡± Nelson asked.


    Naymond fidgeted.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± he looked worried, but not for their life. ¡°There¡¯s a person on the other side.¡±

 SEVENTY-TWO: Naymondeel Art Hitchcock

    Melmarc squinted, peering at the door. There was a part of him that knew [World of Insight] didn¡¯t work that way. Still, it was simply a human response.


    Why can¡¯t I see past it?


    It was a little disconcerting to him. His eyes told him that there was a door right in front of him. It was dark, very dark, and made of wood with a gold knob stained green with verdigris. But every other part of him told him that he was just imagining it. To be more precise, every other part of him simply told him that nothing was there.


    The part about imagining it was just his brain¡¯s interpretation of it.


    Jude currently had his finger inside the trigger guard of his gun. Jed still had a hand held over the gun¡¯s barrel. He kept its aim fixed securely to the ground.


    Nelson walked up beside them. He shot Jude a look that Jude didn¡¯t seem to care about before turning his attention on Naymond.


    ¡°Can you tell what the person is doing?¡± he asked.


    Naymond nodded. ¡°He¡¯s just staring at the door.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell if he¡¯s aware of us?¡±


    Naymond did a perfect imitation of Melmarc and peered at the door. After a while, he shook his head. ¡°Nope.¡±


    "Do you know who it is?"


    Naymond paused, squinted. "Wow. You know what? I actually can''t. That''s interesting."


    Nelson frowned.


    Beside Melmarc, he noticed Claire move a step behind him subtly. It was a single step, silent and intentional. He wondered if it was something she¡¯d learned how to do so easily from her years of playing a support role in a Delving team.


    ¡°I say we take him,¡± Jude said.


    Is he always this untrusting?


    Melmarc didn¡¯t see why they had to take whoever was on the other side of the door. Naymond had already confirmed that it was another person. From all ramifications, wouldn¡¯t it be more natural to assume that it was another Delver?


    After all, they hadn¡¯t come across any other human being since entering the portal.


    ¡°Should we?¡± Naymond mused to himself. ¡°He doesn¡¯t seem worried in anyway. He is moving like he¡¯s annoyed, though.¡±


    They were all talking in low voices, whispering to each other.


    Melmarc looked between them.


    ¡°I say we find another way,¡± Claire opined.


    This was getting a little crazy to Melmarc. Why was the thought of another person something hostile?


    Maybe you¡¯re looking at it from a wrong point of view, he thought.


    He had to be missing something. With Jude going for hostility, that was normal. But every other person agreeing with him meant that there was something he was not aware of¡ªinformation he was lacking.


    Looking between everyone, they still seemed in sync. Certain that whoever it was would be an enemy.


    ¡°I say we open the door and flag them down,¡± Jude insisted in a harsh whisper. ¡°We can¡¯t take the risk. Trust me. I have experience on this.¡±


    Everyone looked at him.


    Naymond raised a brow. ¡°You have experience. Isn¡¯t that interesting.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Jude looked at him, confused. Then he looked at the others. They continued to stare at him. ¡°No. I don¡¯t mean it like that. Not like, hands on experience.¡±


    Hands on experience?


    ¡°What am I missing?¡± Melmarc asked, tired of trying to figure it out by himself.


    ¡°I say we find another way,¡± Nelson insisted, seeming to not have heard him.


    Jude turned to him, sighing in exasperation.


    ¡°Which way, big guy?¡± He gestured around them dramatically. ¡°In case you haven¡¯t noticed, it¡¯s a one way road. In front is a door. On both sides are walls. Behind is a road.¡±


    Nelson frowned. ¡°Then we go back.¡±


    Jed rubbed his chin in thought. ¡°Take the other road.¡±


    Naymond shook his head. ¡°Personally, I¡¯d rather take my chances with what¡¯s behind door number one, if that¡¯s okay with everyone.¡±


    Melmarc remembered how Naymond had been glancing at the second path when they¡¯d met the fork in the road. What had he sensed there that he would rather not return to.


    Also¡­


    ¡°What am I missing?¡± he asked, his voice a little louder.


    He was beginning to learn that he really did not like being ignored. It was a far cry from the boy he had been who would¡¯ve been alright with blending into the background.


    Everyone paused to look at him.


    ¡°Why?¡± he asked slowly, ¡°are we trying to put down what might be another Delver here to help?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not here to help,¡± Jed said simply. There was too much certainty in his voice.


    ¡°Well,¡± Naymond raised a hesitant finger. ¡°That¡¯s potentially not entirely out of the question.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow at that but let it be for now.


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t he here to help?¡±


    ¡°Because we¡¯re the only Delvers that are supposed to be in this portal,¡± Nelson answered, eyes fixed firmly on the door.


    It took Melmarc a moment, but he finally pieced it together.


    ¡°Raiders,¡± he muttered.


    Personally, he was surprised that it had taken him this long to figure it out. Raiders weren¡¯t popular in any way. But Melmarc was friends with Delano. And Delano was friends with the Dark Web. And Raiders were popular on the Dark Web.


    They were, in summary, unregistered Gifted¡ªsome of them registered¡ªwho snuck into portals without permission of any kind.


    Some of them went in with the goal of clearing the portal which was morally good but legally unacceptable, while some went in simply looking for some resources or the other to steal and sell on the black market.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t see how it was supposed to apply in their current predicament. C-rank portals were among the least important portals there were.


    ¡°How does the kid know about Raiders?¡± Jude asked.


    Naymond leaned closer to the door. ¡°He¡¯s moving away.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if we wait he¡¯ll just go away and we can proceed,¡± Claire said.


    Jude looked at them as if they had their priorities misplaced. ¡°Am I the only one that¡¯s beginning to think that The Blight didn¡¯t tell us everything we needed to know?¡±


    Claire sighed. ¡°I take it you don¡¯t know a lot of teenagers, Jude.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s a Contractor,¡± Jed said. ¡°I doubt he spends his time around any normal person.¡±


    Jude still looked confused.


    ¡°Teenagers tend to know more than you give them credit,¡± Claire explained. ¡°I¡¯ve got a cousin who has a friend who knows a guy that¡¯s into illegal exportation. Trust me, you¡¯d be surprised at what teenagers know that they¡¯re not supposed to.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s gone,¡± Naymond said, perking up. ¡°We can go now.¡±


    He reached for the door knob and turned it. The door opened outward, leaving the orange hue to stand over the entrance as if it was some kind of portal. If Naymond saw it, he didn¡¯t show any indication of it.


    Can no one else see it?


    Naymond wasn¡¯t the first to walk through the door. Jude had that honor. Nelson tossed the glow stick inside, illuminating whatever was on the other side as Jude stepped in, gun raised and aimed. He swept the gun barrel from side to side, taking aim as he approached.


    When he passed through the orange barrier, nothing happened. That was when Melmarc realized that he should¡¯ve probably said something about the barrier. It could¡¯ve easily been something only he could sense for some reason.


    ¡°Clear!" Jude announced.


    Jed went in behind him. Naymond followed, then Nelson with Clinton in his arms, then Claire before Melmarc.


    The moment he went through the barrier, Melmarc¡¯s interface popped up.


    [Welcome August Intruder]


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure he liked the look of that.


    [Dear August Intruder, you have trespassed upon the territory of a sanctioned ruler. Sanctioned ruler, Caldath, has been notified of your presence.]


    Melmarc definitely didn¡¯t like that.


    What did it mean that the Demi god was now aware of his presence? Would it now come for him? Would it stay wherever it was and prepare for him?


    Are you seriously considering fighting a Demi-god?


    In all the myths and stories he knew, a Demi-god was not an opponent he would ever want to fight. They accomplished feats he couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom. Most of them fell into the category of what could be considered S-rank Gifted with strength specializations.


    And that was him being generous to the Gifted.


    ¡°Good. You¡¯re all here.¡±


    The first thing Melmarc noticed was that he didn¡¯t recognize the voice. The second thing he noticed was that it had an African accent he couldn¡¯t quite place. Its brogue was so heavy that it almost sounded intentional.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Raiders, he thought as Jude fired off four quick shots. Sadly, Jude was the first of them to go down.


    Melmarc was already moving into action as [World of Insight] swallowed the entire room. He sensed nothing beyond the barrier from where they¡¯d come, but the room they were in was completely within his awareness.


    A grunt filled the room a moment after Jude went down and Melmarc activated [Knowledge is Power].


    The static mana burst out of him and he threw himself into the fray. Their assailant wore casual clothes as he slammed an open palm into Jed¡¯s chest, then spun out of the Delver¡¯s reach so that he could deliver a vicious kick to a downed Jude¡¯s face.


    Jed was already turning despite the blow to the chest and was drawing his knife. He cut through the air and the assailant ducked beneath the slash. A bright blue arc shattered against the wall on the other end of the room.


    Melmarc placed himself between Jed and the assailant just as the man came up with a well placed fist to Jed¡¯s face.


    Melmarc ended up taking the blow to the shoulder. It hurt but only as much as a punch from a regular adult to the shoulder would. He shrugged it off easily and moved to tackle the man. His burst of mana was already coming back. If he could pin the man before his immunity to damage could wear off, they would be succe¡ª


    The man slipped beneath Melmarc, taking advantage of Melmarc¡¯s large frame. In a flurry of actions, Melmarc found himself tumbling through the air and hitting the ground. His burst of mana returned to him as the man darted after other opponents and his world lit up even brighter and he selected a buff quickly.


    [You have chosen World of Insight]


    When Melmarc scrambled back to his feet in the hopes of avoiding or intercepting another attack, he stopped at the sight he was met with. A green indicator hovered over their assailant¡¯s head.


    It made little sense. But Melmarc trusted his skill. Whoever the man was, he was a friend. And if Alfa had sent Clinton and his team for him and Naymond, then it was safe to say that there was a chance that the man in front of them¡ªSaxi, according to his indicator¡ªwas hired by his parents.


    The first feeling he got was relief. If he was right, then it meant that at least one of them had returned safely from their deployment. Then he felt worry, at least he thought it was worry. If the man in front of them was here for him and was fighting off the others, there was a chance he could kill them.


    Beside his name was the simple rank ¡®S.¡¯ A single letter that implied so much more.


    Jed slammed into the wall from an attack and Saxi ran a knee into his head, practically throwing himself into the strike. Jed¡¯s head cracked against the wall, bouncing terribly off it, and Saxi was already moving. Going after Naymond.


    Melmarc rushed for Naymond who was backing away with a very worried expression, hands held up in surrender. Claire moved to Jude, the farthest person from Saxi, and Nelson moved to intercept Saxi even with Clinton in his hands.


    Melmarc got to Saxi first. He watched the man¡¯s eyes move in their socket. It switched from its focus on Naymond, took note of his approach. Melmarc noticed it too late. Saxi drew up short, dropped himself lower so that Melmarc barreled into him as if running into a very low fence. He would¡¯ve toppled over gracelessly but his body seemed to right itself so that he wouldn¡¯t topple so uselessly.


    Melmarc¡¯s gladness at his body¡¯s automatic response was short-lived. Saxi was already moving. With another quick move that Melmarc could not place, Saxi sent him toppling over him. Surprisingly, when he hit the ground, it wasn¡¯t as painful as he expected.


    ¡°Saxi! Stand down!¡± Naymond barked just as the man danced out of Nelson¡¯s reach.


    Saxi paused, then backed away from him. A frown creased his brow. ¡°Identify yourself!¡±


    The room settled into a stalemate, or maybe it was more accurate to call it a momentary truce.


    ¡°How do you have my name?¡± Saxi pressed.


    Then he squinted at Melmarc. His brows furrowed in confusion.


    ¡°You¡¯re a kid,¡± he said, matter of fact. Then his jaw dropped in worry. ¡°Shit.¡±


    Naymond¡¯s lips twitched in a smug smile. ¡°Shit is right.¡±


    ¡°I swear, I didn¡¯t notice.¡± Saxi took a step towards Melmarc.


    Melmarc lowered his stance, hands out on both sides. From what he could tell, despite being an S-rank, Saxi wasn¡¯t very strong physically. He¡¯d put a little too much force into his kick when he¡¯d attacked Jude, and he¡¯d practically thrown himself into the knee to the head he¡¯d given Jed.


    That only happened if you assumed you were the weaker person in the fight. There was also the blow Melmarc had taken from the Delver to the shoulder. It had been normal. Regardless, the man had thrown him twice, which meant that whatever he lacked in power, he made up for in experience and technique.


    Saxi stopped mid step, noticed Melmarc¡¯s reaction and raised his hands up in placation.


    ¡°Boss is going to kill me,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°I swear, Mel¡ªyou¡¯re Mel, right?¡ªI didn¡¯t mean you any harm.¡±


    The indicator above his head continued to remain a steady green. The fact that he was calling him Mel was all Melmarc needed to know that someone from their family had sent him.


    A small groan slipped from someone¡¯s mouth in the corner. Claire had her hand to Jude¡¯s mouth and was making sure it wasn¡¯t touching the man¡¯s mouth. That made sense. Melmarc could imagine just how unhygienic it would be if she kept putting her hand on all her teammates¡¯ mouths.


    Naymond held his hand out to the side. He motioned a still approaching Nelson down.


    Saxi gave the tank a brief glance. Melmarc noticed a small touch of worry in it. Worry or alertness.


    He sees him as a threat, he realized.


    Melmarc was doubly sure that Saxi was significantly lacking in the strength department for an S-rank. The most common classes that had that problem were support classes. Even agility classes had sufficient strength at S-rank.


    After all, you couldn¡¯t expect someone to go around swinging blasts of mana as heavy as thirty kilograms or more over significant distances with average human strength stats. Which meant that Saxi was a support role.


    Which means he has to have come with a team, right?


    Saxi still watched everyone in a quiet way. Eyes watched each individual as if assessing their individual threat levels. Claire caring for Jude. Jed holding onto the side of his head as he leaned against the wall. Saxi looked displeased at that. He kept most of his attention alternating between Naymond and Nelson, though.


    Nelson was most likely a physical threat while Naymond was a threat based on the fact that he knew what he wasn¡¯t supposed to.


    Melmarc, however, was more focused on the fact that an S-rank support class had nearly undone an entire team of C-ranks. And at close combat, no less.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Naymond began, a little awkwardly. ¡°What now?¡±


    ¡°You tell me how you know my name,¡± Saxi said, voice curt.


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m an information class?¡±


    Saxi¡¯s eyes darted to Melmarc. Melmarc shrugged. Saxi might come from his parents and have a green indicator, but on this topic he was going to default to following Naymond¡¯s lead.


    He didn¡¯t know Saxi, after all.


    ¡°What the hell was that about?¡± Jed asked. He was finally on his two feet, without support from the wall to stand. Then he looked at Naymond. ¡°I thought you said he¡¯d left the room.¡±


    ¡°He did,¡± Naymond said. ¡°But you can¡¯t be so sure with people like him.¡±


    ¡°People like me?¡± Saxi asked. His voice said he was slightly peeved by it.


    Naymond paused. ¡°Oh, no. I didn¡¯t mean it like that. I¡¯m not racist. My mentee is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Quit while you¡¯re ahead,¡± Melmarc found himself saying, realizing what was going on.


    Saxi was dark skinned with a thick African accent.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± Nelson asked, cutting through the entire chaos of the conversation.


    ¡°How,¡± Jed put emphasis on the word, ¡°are you here?¡±


    Saxi looked between the both of them. He gave them no answer. Instead, he touched a finger to his ear.


    ¡°I¡¯ve¡ª¡± He frowned suddenly, as if just realizing that he was displaying a bad habit he¡¯d been trying to quit for a long time.


    When he put his hand down, he said nothing.


    Jed remained alert in the corner. ¡°We asked you a question, Raider.¡±


    Melmarc was surprised at that.


    Did he forget what he just did to us?


    Maybe Jed hadn¡¯t. Maybe he felt that now that they were alert, it would be harder for Saxi to put them down as easily. Somehow Melmarc doubted it. If anything, Nelson would be the only one standing, in the end.


    Melmarc could still feel the stat boosts that came with [Bless Your Kindness]. He felt lighter and stronger.


    Saxi spared Jed a simple glance.


    ¡°C-rank,¡± he said casually. ¡°Is it confidence that makes you speak the way you are or are you trying to rile yourself up?¡±


    That was¡­ condescending.


    Jed lowered his stance, knife in hand. The Delver clearly didn¡¯t like being talked down to. As for Naymond, he simply sighed and ran a hand down his face.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your communications specialist?¡± Naymond asked like a tired superior officer.


    Saxi looked at him. ¡°I¡¯m liking you less and less¡­¡± his words trailed off with a frown. ¡°You¡¯re the one that got the kid in this mess, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Such accusations!¡± Naymond hissed, appalled. ¡°How dare you?¡±


    Saxi scowled while everyone wide awake¡ªJude not included because he wasn¡¯t wide awake¡ªlooked at Naymond.


    ¡°What?¡± Naymond looked at them. ¡°I said it was an accusation. I didn¡¯t say it was false.¡±


    Nelson let out an audible sigh.


    Saxi laughed. ¡°You won¡¯t be so cocky when you have to answer for your mistakes.¡±


    ¡°Nobody¡¯s answering to any body,¡± Jed said. ¡°We may not like him but he¡¯s under our protection, and he¡¯ll have it until our mission is complete.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate that,¡± Naymond said. ¡°I really do. But this one¡¯s a lot above your punching power. Mr. Lockwood, please be nice enough to tell our friends his rank?¡±


    Saxi paused, surprised. But it was only for a moment.


    Melmarc thought he would be more worried about having his rank exposed to everyone. Instead, Saxi simply stood with folded arms. He waited patiently.


    Was this how S-ranks were? Confident to the point of being cocky and condescending? The Delver looked like a king waiting to have his position and authority announced to peasants who hadn¡¯t been aware of it.


    Melmarc was suddenly feeling petty.


    ¡°He¡¯s a B-rank Weaver,¡± he said, looking the man pointedly in the eye.


    Naymond started at that. Jed¡¯s grip tightened on his knife.


    ¡°That would explain the speed but the lack of strength,¡± Jed said in assessment. ¡°I see no problem unless he¡¯s a self weaver.¡±


    Weavers were known to boost one thing in exchange for another. They could make a light blue pot a deeper shade of blue at the cost of its durability. Well, it wasn¡¯t really that precise but it worked something like that. From what Melmarc knew, there were limits.


    Self weavers, however, could only do it with themselves. Reducing one of their attributes to boost another was their purview.


    In the aftermath of Melmarc¡¯s words, Naymond suddenly laughed.


    ¡°Petty,¡± he said. ¡°I like that. I never thought you had it in you, especially with what¡¯s been happening recently.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t thought so, too. Knocking the S-rank down a peg was nice, if he was being honest. Watching the smug look on his face fall off was surprisingly nicer than he¡¯d thought.


    ¡°That was interesting to say the least, Mel,¡± Saxi said, comporting himself, ¡°but I¡¯m not a B-rank Weaver.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re an S-rank [Guide],¡± Melmarc said. ¡°I know.¡±


    That startled Saxi once more. It prevented him from enjoying the worried expressions that went through the faces of the others.


    ¡°S-rank?¡± Jude said, groggy. ¡°What the hell¡¯s going on?¡±


    Saxi looked down at him.


    Jude held a hand to his head.


    ¡°Yea,¡± he muttered. ¡°Why¡¯s an S-rank [Guide] here?¡± He looked at everyone, confused. ¡°Am I the only one that¡¯s worried?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be.¡± Naymond waved him down. ¡°If anything, I¡¯m the one in trouble. I kind of knew this day would come, but I¡¯ve been praying.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe in God, though,¡± Melmarc pointed out.


    Naymond shrugged, unbothered. ¡°Never said it was to a God.¡±


    Saxi pointed between the both of them. ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡±


    Claire shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t try to figure it out. The man¡¯s got an odd personality and the kid speaks Naymond.¡±


    Melmarc turned at that. ¡°I don¡¯t speak Naymond.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc frowned at that. The skill must be broken because he definitely did not speak Naymond.


    Dissonant.


    ¡°This is getting confusing,¡± Saxi said with a frown. ¡°Let everyone just calm down. We¡¯ll wait right here.¡±


    ¡°So the others are already on their way?¡± Naymond mused. ¡°Is Deoti with you?¡±


    Melmarc knew Deoti. She was nice.


    ¡°Who the fuck is this guy?¡± Saxi was growing annoyed. He turned to Melmarc. ¡°I thought you only met him at the mentorship program?¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve asked the same question if he didn¡¯t already know that Naymond knew his dad.


    ¡°Careful,¡± Naymond said. ¡°I¡¯m kind of under his protection right now. It won¡¯t be very good to go pissing him off.¡±


    ¡°What the hell do you mean by that?¡± Saxi asked.


    Claire sighed. ¡°Ignore him, please.¡±


    Saxi did not. He took a menacing step towards Naymond. Melmarc had no idea what Naymond meant when he said he was under his protection but he found himself stepping between Saxi and Naymond. Nelson joined him.


    Saxi looked up at Melmarc in the light of the glow stick.


    He shivered visibly. ¡°The resemblance is uncanny.¡±


    ¡°I know, right.¡± Naymond leaned to the side to look around Melmarc. ¡°It¡¯s the eyes. Would you believe me if I said, he wasn¡¯t always like this?¡±


    Saxi frowned at him. ¡°You are disrespectful.¡±


    ¡°I think the word you are looking for is annoying. But thanks for the compliment.¡±


    Saxi stepped forward. Melmarc fought the urge to move. Oddly, it wasn¡¯t really much of a fight.


    Saxi stopped in front of him but looked around him at Naymond. ¡°I don¡¯t like you. You¡¯re cocky, and arrogant, and disrespectful. And annoying.¡±


    And all of a sudden, too, Melmarc thought. Ever since he said he was under my protection.


    What had that been about.


    Saxi pulled up to a stop suddenly.


    ¡°You!¡± he pointed a finger at Naymond.


    Naymond smiled. ¡°Me.¡±


    Saxi groaned and stepped back in annoyance. ¡°You¡¯re the Prisoner of War.¡±


    Naymond¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. It wasn¡¯t quite a frown, but it was something. It was an expression Melmarc didn¡¯t think he had seen before.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you need official permission to change stewardship?¡± Saxi continued. ¡°From the little I know, you haven¡¯t gotten any. You can¡¯t just¡ª¡±


    Saxi clamped his mouth shut so suddenly it was as if someone had shocked him.


    ¡°There¡¯s still much you don¡¯t know,¡± Naymond said through his teeth. ¡°So I¡¯d say that you¡¯re lucky someone was quick to shut you up before you continued.¡±


    Everyone looked at Naymond. This time it wasn¡¯t because of something unreasonable he had said but something outrageous he had done.


    He had practically talked down on an S-rank Gifted as if he was talking to a child that had annoyed him.


    Around the room, everyone was growing wary.


    ¡°From here on out,¡± Naymond folded his arms in defiance, ¡°I will speak only to your commanding officer. And you will speak only to mine.¡±


    Saxi gritted his teeth. ¡°And who is your commanding officer?¡±


    ¡°Melmarc Lockwood.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s interface appeared in front of him.


    [Player <Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B)> requests Sanctuary of the Oath.]


    [Sanctuary Designation: Prisoner of War.]


    [Oath right falls under the purview of War.]


    [Oath of War not detected.]


    ¡­


    [As an August Intruder you are currently granted partial Oath rights to your world.]


    [You meet the qualifications to grant a Guest or Intruder temporary sanctuary.]


    [Would you like to grant Player <Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B)> sanctuary?]


    [Y/N?]


    What the hell?

 SEVENTY- THREE: Forward

    It had been a significantly long time since Melmarc had been well and truly confused on what exactly his emotional state was.


    Staring at the notification in front of him, he could confidently say that he didn¡¯t know. Naymond was a Player. And as much as he would¡¯ve loved to say it made sense, he couldn¡¯t. None of it made sense.


    In fact, of all the impossible things in life this one had not been one of them. It wasn¡¯t even close.


    Around him, everyone just stared as if they were witnessing something outrageous. Jude, ever the one to stand out negatively was the one to break the silence.


    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡±


    Melmarc ignored him. He stared at the notification in front of him. His interface stared back. The words were clear, and yet blurry somehow.


    Naymond¡¯s a player.


    Jude looked around, from one person to the other. He gave the rest of his teammates odd looks as if they were the ones who were being unreasonable for not asking questions.


    Saxi for his part, stood quietly. He looked as if he wasn¡¯t even here. To be more precise, he looked as if he wasn¡¯t listening to anything that was happening here.


    Melmarc gritted his teeth. He¡¯d always hoped to meet a Player one day, but not for any good reason. He couldn¡¯t say he planned on being hostile to them, but he also couldn¡¯t say he planned on being a friend.


    He didn¡¯t know what he planned. What he knew was that he just always wanted to meet one.


    ¡°Your father says that you should tell me that you are not his commanding officer,¡± Saxi said suddenly, looking confused.


    Naymond¡¯s face fell at the man¡¯s words.


    A part of Melmarc had expected the [Sage] to try and persuade him, regardless. To see him so clearly subdued was a surprise.


    ¡°So he came,¡± Naymond muttered.


    Saxi said nothing to that. Instead, he walked all the way to one end of the room that had a door and opened it. He stuck his head outside, looked from side to side, then brought his head back in.


    ¡°I¡¯m to take you to your father, Mel,¡± he said calmly.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how he felt being called ¡®Mel¡¯ by a stranger. Surprisingly, he didn¡¯t like how subdued Naymond suddenly was. The [Sage] looked worried.


    ¡°What happens if I don¡¯t tell you that I am not his commanding officer?¡± he asked Saxi.


    The Delver paused for a moment. Then he frowned as if something had pricked him.


    ¡°Nothing happens,¡± he said after a while. ¡°Saying it is more about him than you. He¡¯s just trying to drag you into something you aren¡¯t really a part of.¡±


    Melmarc looked at Naymond and couldn¡¯t agree with Saxi. Naymond had known something. And even if he hadn¡¯t known something, he¡¯d suspected it. The [Sage] hadn¡¯t tried to drag him into something that he wasn¡¯t a part of, he¡¯d tried to drag him into something that he¡¯d suspected he was a part of.


    Let¡¯s leave it for now, Melmarc thought, dismissing his interface with a thought.


    Even though Saxi had said that his dad wanted him to deny Naymond, all he had to go on was the man¡¯s words. And he didn¡¯t know the man enough to trust it.


    What if it was Deoti¡¯s words?


    The answer to that came easily as well. Deoti was nice, but to Melmarc and Ark, she was more like that friend of your parents that showed up once every five years or something. She was always nice to them in that detached way a parent¡¯s friend was nice to their child or you were nice to your friend¡¯s significantly younger sibling. Or even their parents.


    She was nice to him because he was his father¡¯s son. So she was nice. But that was all she was.


    Besides, she holds no power in this decision. It was less of a thought and more of an instinct.


    So, no. He wasn¡¯t going to take Saxi¡¯s word for it.


    He did, however, focus on one thing.


    ¡°Dad¡¯s here?¡± he blurted, taking a step forward before he even noticed it.


    Saxi nodded. ¡°It hasn¡¯t been long since we got here, but we decided to split up to cover more ground.¡±


    The news did nothing to please Naymond and Melmarc remembered why. Naymond had been afraid of what would happen if his father ever found out about what had happened here, how he had accidentally endangered Melmarc¡¯s life.


    It can¡¯t be that bad, right?


    ¡°Where¡¯s dad?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Somewhere in this building,¡± Saxi asked. ¡°We¡¯ll just need to navigate our way back to him.¡±


    Saxi stared at the air, looked at nothing, yet his eyes moved as if he was reading something.


    No, not reading, Melmarc realized.


    Saxi¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t move from side to side but around. If it had been from side to side, he could¡¯ve come to the conclusion that the man was reading his interface. But around meant something else.


    Saxi frowned before finally looking back at them.


    ¡°He¡¯s not very far,¡± he said.


    ¡°Great.¡± Jude threw his hands up in exasperation. ¡°Kid¡¯s dad¡¯s a Delver, too. And a Raider at that.¡±


    Saxi was already moving. In a matter of seconds, he¡¯d crossed the distance between him and Jude and had the man pinned to the wall by the neck. With his other hand, he held the barrel of Jude¡¯s gun down and away from him.


    ¡°Watch your words, Delver,¡± he said in a quiet, menacing tone. ¡°Words can get you killed in the presence of more loyal men. No one here is a Raider.¡±


    ¡°Put. Him. Down.¡± Even with Clinton curled up in his hands Nelson remained a terrifying figure with his size.


    At least when he wanted to be. And it seemed like he wanted to be a terrifying figure right now.


    ¡°No need to stand up for me, big guy,¡± Jude muttered with a grin.


    His hand twitched as the words left his mouth and Saxi was already slipping out of the way. A small shockwave left his open palm and blasted into the wall on the other side of the room.


    This was beginning to feel like the time when Jude had accused Melmarc of being a Skin Walker all over again.


    Is he always this testy? Melmarc wondered. And what did Saxi mean by more loyal men?


    Saxi frowned at the attack then looked back. ¡°Don¡¯t you know that getting on the bad side of an S-rank is never a good idea?¡±


    Jude didn¡¯t respond. He didn¡¯t even look intimidated. From what Melmarc knew, S-ranks were treated with a mix of fear and respect amongst Delvers.


    Saxi sighed and released Jude.


    ¡°I apologize,¡± he said. ¡°Old habits made me react.¡±


    Melmarc understood in this moment why Jude and Nelson weren¡¯t afraid of the man. He¡¯s a [Guide].


    No one feared the non combat classes. What were they going to do? Support you to death?


    ¡°Alright,¡± Saxi announced, unbothered by the slight chaos he¡¯d caused. ¡°I have orders to bring the kid and his¡­ friend to my superior. The rest of you can do whatever you want.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry but we can¡¯t allow that,¡± Jed said simply. ¡°The kid is under our protection. And we really don¡¯t trust you.¡±


    ¡°For fuck sake,¡± Saxi muttered under his breath. ¡°I just had to be the one to run into them.¡±


    He paused in thought after that.


    ¡°Is there a way we can negotiate on this?¡± he asked nobody in particular.


    ¡°We could follow you,¡± Claire offered.


    Saxi pursed his lips in thought, then shook his head. ¡°Nope. I can¡¯t risk one of you saying the wrong thing like your friend over here. It could get real messy.¡±


    ¡°We survived you just fine,¡± Jude said, voice smug.


    Saxi chuckled at that. ¡°He¡¯s funny,¡± he said to Melmarc, then turned to Jude. ¡°You¡¯re funny.¡±


    ¡°Also honest,¡± Jude said, simply.


    Saxi¡¯s brows furrowed at that. He seemed confused, but his confusion cleared a moment later.


    ¡°You guys have no experience with S-ranks,¡± he said in realization. ¡°You just think that they¡¯re powerful Gifted. Then you met me.¡±


    He let out an amused chuckle. It was almost loud.


    ¡°Oh you poor guys.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m S-rank, but I¡¯m a support. Don¡¯t you understand what that means?¡±


    ¡°It means you¡¯re an A-rank, potentially a B-rank when it comes to combat,¡± Jed said.


    ¡°Which means¡­¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t hold the level of importance the combat S-ranks hold.¡±


    ¡°Which means?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not as arrogant as they are rumored to be,¡± Melmarc said.


    Saxi nodded. ¡°So I don¡¯t look down on people as much.¡±


    ¡°But you do look down on people.¡± Jude was rubbing his neck.


    Saxi walked up to the door and opened it. ¡°Yes. But that¡¯s because I¡¯m rich. Now come along and practice your best behavior.¡±


    The first sight they met when they stepped out was a [Damned] lying dead on the floor. It had lost one arm, severed at the shoulder in one clean cut.


    A skill? Melmarc wondered before discarding the thought. The [Guide] class didn¡¯t have any attack skill. At least none that was known to the public or Delano.


    He spared it a glancing look as he stepped over it.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    They walked down a hallway that turned every now and again in silence. Each time the hallway forked, Saxi simply took any turn without hesitation. He was like a man walking in his own castle, fully aware of where he was going.


    ¡°I have a skill for it,¡± Saxi explained when he made the fourth casual turn at the fourth fork in the road.


    Melmarc picked up the pace so he walked beside Saxi, leaving the others behind them. Saxi was busy keeping his attention on the road, although he looked like he wasn¡¯t necessarily focused on it.


    He reminded Melmarc of how Delano looked whenever he was typing and talking at the same time.


    ¡°How does it work?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°The skill.¡±


    Saxi looked back, checked on the others, before turning his sight forward. ¡°It¡¯s called [Wanderer¡¯s Compass].¡±


    Melmarc had a feeling it wasn¡¯t a very complicated skill.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a complicated skill,¡± Saxi continued. ¡°I first have to know where I¡¯m going. I don¡¯t have to know how to get there. Just where there is.¡±


    ¡°What happens if you don¡¯t know where there is?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Saxi shrugged. ¡°Then it won¡¯t activate.¡±


    ¡°Does your interface tell you why it won¡¯t activate?¡±


    They walked past a bump in the wall. [World of Insight] told Melmarc what the bump was but he was still surprised enough that he had to look at it twice.


    It was a hand.


    A single hand jutted out of the wall, drawing the painting on the wall¡­


    Now that Melmarc thought about it, the wall wasn¡¯t painted. It was just like one massive slab, just like the wall outside that they¡¯d blown a hole into. It was a very dark shade of grey that was almost black.


    The hand jutted out of the wall, stretching it as if it was some kind of elastic cloth. Then it just stayed there, reaching out as if in supplication. It was eerie to look at.


    ¡°Grotesque piece of artistry if you ask me,¡± Saxi said, pausing long enough for Melmarc to know he was waiting for him.


    Melmarc nodded in agreement and continued walking.


    ¡°So as long as you know the location, the skill can guide you to it?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Not entirely. Like I said, it¡¯s a bit complicated.¡±


    They passed the first door they were seeing in a while. Saxi ignored it even though Melmarc was aware that the man hadn¡¯t missed it. So he ignored it too.


    ¡°So you could know where something is but the skill still won¡¯t be able to get you to it?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    Behind them Melmarc heard Naymond say, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t open that if I were you.¡±


    Curious, Melmarc used [World of Insight] to focus on what was on the other side of the door. It worked easily and he almost gagged.


    Saxi gave him a curious look. To the man it must¡¯ve looked like he¡¯d almost gagged out of nowhere.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Saxi asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Just something I noticed.¡±


    The room had bodies, and Melmarc wasn¡¯t talking about the bodies of the [Damned]. There were human bodies in there, most of them adults. There were also animal bodies, though. Melmarc did understand why.


    The room was actually stuffed with them, but there was no smell. But Melmarc¡¯s mind was too focused on the state of the bodies and the number of bodies.


    Saxi¡¯s brows furrowed in thought but he said nothing further on the subject.


    Still curious about the skills of an S-rank [Guide] Melmarc pushed the conversation along. ¡°So how do you work as a guide when you enter a portal with my dad.¡±


    Saxi gave him an odd look.


    ¡°I assume you work with my dad, entering portals.¡±


    ¡°How much do you know about your dad¡¯s job?¡± Saxi pointed to the right as they came up on a T-junction.


    Melmarc walked on his right and took the turn easily. ¡°I know he¡¯s a Delver and he works for the government.¡±


    I know a bit more now than before I got stuck here.


    Saxi made a sound that came out as a noncommittal grunt. ¡°I work quite well with your dad, actually.¡±


    ¡°And your class usually work as scouts, right?¡±


    Saxi smiled. ¡°You¡¯re wondering how I help if I can¡¯t find what I don¡¯t know the location?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    Saxi stopped at door. It had the same orange hue as the one Melmarc had seen that had led them to Saxi. Behind them, the others came to a stop, Naymond closer than the rest.


    Saxi looked at the door, frowned, thought about it, then moved away. Melmarc moved as well.


    ¡°What¡¯s behind that door?¡± Claire asked. There was genuine curiosity in her voice.


    Saxi took a deep breath, then let it out.


    ¡°So the reason I¡¯m helpful is because that¡¯s not the only skill I have,¡± Saxi said to Melmarc, ignoring her.


    ¡°You won¡¯t answer her?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°If I answer every question they ask, they¡¯ll be motivated to ask more questions,¡± Saxi answered. ¡°And if I encourage that, they¡¯ll feel they are free to say whatever they want whenever they want. For their own health, I will not encourage that.¡±


    ¡°And they can hear you,¡± Jude said from behind them.


    ¡°But you answer me,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Saxi took another turn. They passed another door with an orange highlight. ¡°I answer you because you can talk whenever you want to talk and say whatever you want to say.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± That sounded like Melmarc was more important than he was supposed to be. ¡°Do you work with my dad or for my dad?¡±


    ¡°A bit of both. But more of the second one.¡±


    Behind them, Naymond snorted in amusement. ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it.¡±


    Saxi shot him a scowl.


    ¡°What about me?¡± Naymond asked cheerily. ¡°Do I get to say whatever I want whenever I want?¡±


    Saxi ignored him and returned his attention to Melmarc. ¡°So, the way my skills work together is that I have another skill that kind of works like echo location.¡±


    ¡°So you get a general idea of where something is.¡± Melmarc could understand how the two skills could create the perfect tracking skill.


    ¡°I also have a simpler one,¡± Saxi continued. ¡°If I already have a location and an accurate enough geography, I can pull up a map.¡±


    ¡°Like a video game map or like you can draw a map?¡±


    Saxi chuckled. ¡°A video game map. It¡¯s actually kind of cool. I still remember how impressed the others were the first time they saw it.¡±


    ¡°Wait, others can see it?¡±


    Saxi scratched his jaw with a finger. ¡°Well¡­ not really. There are other factors in it. We¡¯ve got a team member that has a skill that helps with that one.¡±


    ¡°I knew a Gifted with a tracking skill,¡± Jude piped up. ¡°She could track something as far as eight blocks away.¡±


    ¡°Deoti wants to know how long you¡¯ve been with these guys?¡± Saxi asked Melmarc.


    Dissonant.


    ¡°Does Deoti want to know or do you want to know?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Saxi paused. He looked at Melmarc through narrow lids. ¡°That was very eerie. But yes, you¡¯re right. I¡¯m the one that wants to know.¡±


    ¡°I met them last night. Yesterday evening, actually.¡±


    ¡°Does that one always talk that much?¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t say for certain if Jude talked a lot. One thing he could say, however, was that the man was quite different from the others.


    ¡°He¡¯s kind of different from the others,¡± was the only answer he could give.


    Saxi chuckled. ¡°Definitely different from the others. Peacock-y, if you ask me.¡±


    Melmarc looked at him. ¡°Peacock-y?¡±


    Saxi walked up to a door and opened it. There was no orange hue over it. ¡°Likes to show off, draw attention. But with his mouth.¡±


    ¡°He is a bit paranoid,¡± Naymond confirmed.


    The room they walked into was large. It looked more like a hotel suite than a normal room. There were scattered chairs all over the floor. Brown like oak even in the light of the glow stick. Melmarc counted four. They were wooden, like what you would expect from an old movie.


    There was also a fire place. It was old and dusty. Ancient from disuse.


    A king size bed occupied the center of the room, still neatly dressed, covered in sheets of white and red, even if extremely dusty. It sat comfortably on a beige mattress. Over turned at one corner of the room, as if flung in annoyance, was a brown oval table the same color as the chairs.


    ¡°Guest room?¡± Jed guessed.


    His words were followed by a groan that came from Nelson. Clinton stirred in the large man¡¯s arms. It was a good sign. Melmarc realized that he was waiting for the leader of the second team to wake up while he anticipated a meeting with the leader of Saxi¡¯s team.


    Saxi didn¡¯t look around.


    ¡°We should keep going,¡± he said, walking over to the other end of the room where another door waited for them.


    ¡°Are we going to my dad?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Saxi opened the door. ¡°No. We¡¯re going to Deoti. Deoti¡¯ll take us to your dad.¡±


    Melmarc was glad. True to form, he doubted his dad would¡¯ve ever shown it but he knew his dad would¡¯ve been worried sick since finding out where he was.


    ¡°How is he?¡± Melmarc asked, unsure.


    Saxi smiled, then gestured for Melmarc to go through the door. ¡°You know your dad. What do you think?¡±


    ¡°Blank expression.¡± Melmarc smiled as he walked through the door into another hallway. ¡°Simple words. Grunts.¡±


    Saxi walked after him.


    ¡°Intimidating.¡± Naymond stepped out, too.


    Jed was behind them. ¡°Is that how you describe your father?¡±


    Nelson and Jude walked in. Then Claire.


    ¡°To be fair,¡± she said, ¡°he kind of just described himself.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not intimidating,¡± Melmarc muttered to himself.


    ¡°Not right now.¡± Naymond patted him on the back amiably. ¡°But I¡¯m sure you can be when you want to be.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to be powerful but he wasn¡¯t sure intimidating was the word he was looking to be described with. Yes, he wanted to be intimidating to anything that came out of a portal or was inside a portal. But not to people on earth.


    Bad guys, too, he thought. He also wanted to be intimidating to bad guys.


    But that was the risk of being powerful. If you wanted people not to mess with you, you had to be intimidating in some way. Ark wasn¡¯t intimidating to him but everyone else found Ark intimidating. And because of that, nobody had messed with Melmarc back in school or anything that had to do with Ark.


    Melmarc wondered if he could find that line between being powerful and being intimidating. He didn¡¯t want people who didn¡¯t know him to meet him for the first time and find him intimidating.


    ¡°Trust me,¡± Saxi said from beside him. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about the intimidating part, you shouldn¡¯t be. You¡¯re not that intimidating.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc let out a sigh. So much for trying to assure him.


    They walked a little longer. They crossed two more rooms and Saxi was telling Melmarc how Deoti wasn¡¯t far now when Jed hurried up to them so that he walked side by side with Melmarc and Saxi.


    ¡°I have a question,¡± he said, his hand casually rested on his side arm.


    ¡°I do not have an answer,¡± Saxi replied.


    Jed glanced at Melmarc, then back at Saxi. ¡°How did you do it? In the room. You have the [Guide] class. And if I¡¯m not mistaken, your class doesn¡¯t get any boost to any combat stats.¡±


    Melmarc was curious about that, too. Especially how he¡¯d reacted to Jude¡¯s final attack before the man had even made it.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m kind of curious, too,¡± Melmarc said.


    Saxi groaned as if he really didn¡¯t want to say anything and Jed smirked.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell us if you don¡¯t want to,¡± Melmarc added hurriedly. ¡°I was just curious, but it¡¯s obviously not important.¡±


    Saxi was silent for a moment. However, his face went through a few expressions as if he was having an argument in his head.


    ¡°We don¡¯t get a lot of boosts in our combat stats,¡± he said in the end. ¡°But we do get stat boosts. It¡¯s no secret that the [Guide] class comes with a stat boost to perception and speed.¡±


    Naymond slipped in between them. ¡°Don¡¯t forget that one point to intelligence.¡±


    Saxi ignored him. ¡°And I also have a skill that helps with that. But I didn¡¯t have to use it for you guys.¡±


    Melmarc found himself wondering what the skill was. From what he knew, combat skills for guides weren¡¯t a thing. But there was always the possibility of turning a skill that was meant for one purpose so that it was used for another.


    Hypothetically speaking, how possible was it for him to use the skill [Wanderer¡¯s Compass] to find how to attack where he wanted to attack. After all, all he needed was to know where what he was looking for was.


    If you focused on figuring out where you wanted to strike, the skill might be able to show you how to get there. If it worked like most of the tracking skills Melmarc had heard of, then it was possible for Saxi¡¯s skill to give him the alternative ways to make the attack work.


    With a heightened perception it should be possible, right?


    Saxi came to a sudden halt. Everyone stopped behind him just as abruptly.


    Naymond looked at him. ¡°That¡¯s quite the reach you have.¡±


    ¡°Not the time for jokes.¡± Saxi looked left and right.


    They were at a junction. A path led to the left and the right. One led forward. Saxi looked very uncertain. He scratched his head, fingers scraping through a wooly head of hair. In the end, he ran his hand over it, patting it gently as if trying to arrange it somehow.


    He let out a sigh. ¡°This will be a problem.¡±


    ¡°Trouble on the horizon?¡± Jed asked.


    Saxi turned to him, addressing him properly for the first time. ¡°How good are you guys in a combat situation?¡±


    ¡°Not bad,¡± Jed answered.


    ¡°Define not bad.¡±


    ¡°I killed four of those monsters¡ªB-rank¡ªbefore we got into the building.¡±


    Saxi was quiet again, thoughtful. Everyone waited for him to finish his thoughts. Although Melmarc was of the significant opinion that there were no thoughts to be finished.


    ¡°So what did they say?¡± Naymond asked. ¡°I take it you have a comms specialist on your team.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no way around,¡± Saxi answered, turning to Melmarc. ¡°All the paths to Deoti have monsters in between.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t sense anything. It meant that Naymond¡¯s reach with [World of Insight] was significantly far as was whatever skill Saxi was using.


    ¡°How many are there?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Forward has the least number.¡±


    Melmarc wouldn¡¯t say he was looking for the least number. Now that he knew he would still get [EP] for an assisted kill, he really wanted to go all in.


    Don¡¯t risk others, he told himself. Better yet, don¡¯t risk yourself.


    It would be stupid if he went and got himself killed when he wasn¡¯t far from his dad. Maybe he could circle back with Deoti and kill whatever [Damned] they couldn¡¯t get this time.


    ¡°Please tell me the kid isn¡¯t thinking about it,¡± Jude said. ¡°There really isn¡¯t anything to think about. We go through the path with the lowest number.¡±


    Saxi let out a tired breath and stepped aside. He gestured dramatically at the path forward like a gentleman opening the door for a lady. ¡°Go on or shut up. I¡¯m here for Melmarc not you.¡±


    Everyone stood quietly. They waited.


    Jude looked at everyone. His teammates to be precise. ¡°You guys have got to be kidding me. If we go together, we can make it.¡±


    Jed sighed. ¡°You seem to forget that we¡¯re here for the kid, too.¡±


    Jude paused. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now let Marc decide.¡±


    There was no thinking to be done. The answer was clear.


    Melmarc pointed. ¡°We¡¯ll go forward.¡±


    Hopefully, there would be enough time to circle back and gather as much [EP] as possible with Deoti. He remembered his mom talking about how strong Deoti was once upon a time.


    ¡°Forward, it is.¡± Jed raised his gun and took aim.


    He took two steps forward before coming to a halt. He looked down at his gun, thought better of it and dropped it. He replaced it with a knife and continued forward. Jed followed behind him, grumbling about how he didn¡¯t sign up for this.


    Nelson turned to Saxi and offered him Clinton¡¯s sleeping form. ¡°Can you carry him?¡±


    Saxi reached out and took Clinton. He grunted a bit but held the Delver, adjusted a bit, and finally threw him over his shoulder.


    ¡°Careful,¡± Claire said softly. ¡°He might throw up if you move him around too much.¡±


    Saxi craned his neck to look at Clinton. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because he''s drunk,¡± she replied with a sigh. ¡°Drunk on vitality.¡±


    [Vitality of the Drunk], Melmarc thought. No wonder she recovered sleepy. She was drunk.


    Saxi nodded. ¡°Got it.¡±


    He didn¡¯t look like he really cared.


    Ahead of them, Jed called out. ¡°Contact!¡±


    Melmarc moved forward and Saxi rushed after him.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Saxi asked, not stopping him.


    ¡°Joining them,¡± Melmarc answered.


    A small smile touched Saxi¡¯s lips. ¡°I get to see the Boss¡¯ kid in action¡­ Nice.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what that was about, but it wasn¡¯t very important right now. What was important was getting his [EP].


    Wait. Melmarc looked at him. "Where''s Clinton?"

 SEVENTY-FOUR: War Of Ideas

    Saxi¡¯s feet almost faltered beneath him as he came to an almost stumbling stop. Melmarc spared him a backwards glance, but only a brief one. In that shot time, Saxi gave him an assuring smile to let the boy know that he was alright.


    Are you sure? He asked in his mind. He was sure to make sure he used his inside voice. Apparently, telepathic communication was easier for people who had active inside voices.


    Although, some of them had overactive inside voices and had to learn to control them. Saxi had spent his time learning to have one.


    Certain. The voice that came back in his head was Deoti¡¯s.


    No longer running, Saxi strolled after Melmarc. Doesn¡¯t that kind of go against keeping him safe?


    You¡¯re still keeping him safe, Deoti replied.


    You sure that¡¯s a good idea? Fendor¡¯s voice popped up inside Saxi¡¯s head. He was always one to question anything Deoti said just for the fun of it.


    Sometimes Saxi wondered if the man really didn¡¯t like Deoti romantically. There was a quiet bet within the group that he did like her. David wasn¡¯t a part of the bet, though.


    He¡¯s been stuck in a Portal for a few days, Deoti answered. I think it would be good to see what he¡¯s at least capable of. Saxi, you can just hang around and keep him safe. You can do that, right?


    Saxi could. Still¡­


    It sounds kind of harsh to me. In the distance he could already hear the chaos of fighting. The sound of gunshots lasted only very shortly before being replaced by the sounds of bodies clashing and walls being struck.


    The walls in the castle were broken but they didn¡¯t break. Not anymore. Even the Boss had been unable to break it with a single punch.


    Every one in the team agreed that with a few more he could probably succeed in destroying a few of the walls. After all, they¡¯d seen him break down what should¡¯ve been the impossible with enough punches.


    It was very likely a skill no one knew about.


    Saxi cocked his head from side to side and reveled in the relieving pops that came with it. I need a gun and a source of light, Fendor.


    Where are you?


    Saxi spared the map at the left bottom corner of his vision a glance. North West. I¡¯m the only one in that area.


    Got you.


    A moment later, two black holes appeared beside Saxi at shoulder level. He reached into it and his hand settled on the handle of a gun. He closed his hand around it and pulled the gun out. When he put his second hand, it came out with a bright orb.


    It glowed a nice white. He placed it on the ground.


    The gun was a simple handgun, but only at a glance. Its internal workings, however, had enough force to pack a significant punch.


    Thanks.


    Saxi came to a stop over thirty feet away from the chaos of the fight. At the end of the hallway, it opened up into what looked like an oversized living room. Like the rest of the castle rooms it was nothing short of a mess. The carpets were tattered, their colors faded from age and potential disuse. Everything was more brown from dust than any real color. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling. It was made of wood. It was the kind of chandelier used in the old days when there was no electricity. Fashioned to be filled with lit candles.


    It still had unlit candles scattered around it, half-melted from having once been used some time ago. The place was lit from the glowstick the team had been using that was now on the ground


    Saxi activated a skill as he watched the fight, going closer as the battle moved away from him and deeper into the living room.


    [You have used skill Sense of the Survivor]


    The skill was an interesting one. He had gotten it on his fifth skill upgrade and it had been the skill that had turned him from a simple S-rank scout, to an S-rank scout that could hold his own even in a combat situation.


    [Sense of the Survivor (Mastery 38%)]


    The Gifted is aware of the roads leading to their demise.


    The description had been simple and very precise when it had been offered to him. It would¡¯ve been stupid not to take it. Then he¡¯d gotten it and it had been so useful that he¡¯d focused on it through out its entire evolution.


    As far as he was concerned, every ten percent mastery he gained in it, he pushed forward with its evolution. No alternate skill was chosen from it.


    At first, it had served to keep him alive. Then it had hit thirty percent mastery and Saxi had realized how to use it to keep others alive.


    Before he knew it, he was standing in the living room, securely placed at the wall, far from the real fight.


    From what he was seeing, some of the things he knew about the Lockwood family weren¡¯t making sense.


    Marc¡¯s the good one, right? he asked. The favorite one?


    Lisa sighed and he panicked.


    Is Boss still on this line? He couldn¡¯t believe he¡¯d said that.


    Lucky for you, Axe answered, he¡¯s not.


    Saxi relaxed slightly.


    During their missions, when they weren¡¯t in any real combat situations like right now, David allowed them their own secure telepathic line. It was like having a group chat at work while your employer told you to have a group chat specifically for only the employees.


    Whenever they reached such a decision, one of them always remained with David. Today, Lisa was the one that was with him.


    So, Marc¡¯s the good one, right? he continued.


    First, Axe interrupted, so that you do not repeat this mistake in the wrong company, there is no favorite one.


    Saxi was confused by that. I could¡¯ve sworn I heard something about favorites.


    He was the only member of the team that hadn¡¯t seen the Lockwood family. Not even Mrs. Lockwood. He¡¯d joined them long after she¡¯d left the Oath program. From the little he knew, she was the only known person to have left the Oath program in the entire world.


    You heard right, Fendor said. You just misunderstood.


    Deoti chuckled. Correct. Marc is my favorite. Emphasis on the ¡®my.¡¯


    Oh.


    Still, that wasn¡¯t what was important. Favorites were out of the question.


    So¡­ he continued, his attention never leaving the fight scene. He¡¯s your favorite because he¡¯s calm and collected.


    He¡¯s a large teddy bear who wouldn¡¯t even hurt a fly.


    Arguable, Fendor thought. It¡¯s not that he wouldn¡¯t hurt a fly. It¡¯s more about him being a little too timid.


    The attack changed him, Lisa thought.


    I wouldn¡¯t say that, Fendor disagreed.


    Yea, Axe chimed in. The kid¡¯s always been on the timid side. He only came alive when his family was around.


    Specifically Ark. There was a little disapproval in Deoti¡¯s voice.


    Ark¡¯s not so bad, Fendor thought. He¡¯s just a really active kid.


    They were going tangent as far as Saxi was concerned. So Marc¡¯s the quiet one and Ark¡¯s the loud one.


    Marc¡¯s the good one and Ark¡¯s the bad influence. Deoti was fixed on her opinion on the brother. Ark is more violent. I¡¯ve seen his school reports.


    You¡¯ve seen them? Axe asked, surprised.


    Deoti hesitated. Not physically, obviously.


    Saxi raised his gun and took aim as [Sense of the Survivor] came alive. A small red line tracked from one of the [Damned] that was fighting the Delver called Jude. It made a straight line, tracking a clear path to Melmarc.


    Saxi was about to pull the trigger when the creature turned abruptly and charged at Melmarc in a single motion. In the end, he didn¡¯t. Jude blasted the creature with a skill that sent it staggering before it had even cleared half the path.


    Saxi lowered his gun and returned his attention to the fight. You sure I shouldn¡¯t help them?


    Our job is to keep Melmarc safe, Deoti answered. The others can take care of themselves.


    Saxi almost sighed. You do know that there are only C-ranks in that fight, right? Marc¡¯s the only B-rank.


    If they can¡¯t survive, then that¡¯s their problem.


    A collective sigh went through the entire telepathic communication. Deoti was the perfect stereotype of what the Delving world thought of S-rankers. You only registered to her if you were an A-rank.


    She didn¡¯t hate you or discriminate against you if you weren¡¯t up to A-rank. You simply didn¡¯t matter. Anything below an A-rank was as important as an ant to a normal person. You didn¡¯t think of them until they became an inconvenience. And it took a very significant amount of benevolence to show them kindness. A significant amount of cruelty to show them wickedness.


    Her discrimination, however, was reserved specifically for the [Enchanter] class. It didn¡¯t matter the rank. Deoti had the [Mage] class. And while people looked down on the [Faker] class as a false [Mage] class, she looked down on the [Enchanter] class as the weak [Mage] class. A blight on the class.


    Why? No one knew.


    Saxi grimaced as he watched Melmarc turn. With a bright white ring of mana shining around his wrist, he delivered a vicious back handed slap straight into the lowered head of a [Damned].


    The blow sent the thing staggering at least eight steps to the side. More surprising was the fact that Melmarc didn¡¯t even flinch. His attention shifted away from the creature just as easily and he threw the ring straight into another [Damned].


    This one was suffering under a barrage of attacks from Jed and the ring of mana severed its leg at the knee. The monster dropped to the severed knee and Jed claimed its head with an arc of blue mana to the neck flashing from one of his knives.


    Melmarc had done everything without a single expression on his face.


    You sure he¡¯s the good kid? Saxi found himself asking.


    Fendor laughed. The sound echoed inside Saxi¡¯s head as if it were his own thought even though his mind knew it was not.


    Timid, Fendor corrected. Not good.


    Timid is also good, Deoti scowled.


    The inability to do violence doesn¡¯t make you good, Deoti. It¡¯s the ability to do violence and not do it that makes you good. When he started his self defense lessons with Ark, their instructor said that he was having a hard time fighting back.


    Saxi¡¯s brows furrowed. Do all self defense class involve fighting back? Aren¡¯t they more about defending yourself?


    It¡¯s complicated, Deoti answered dismissively. Mel isn¡¯t violent because he¡¯s good.


    Mel isn¡¯t good just because he¡¯s not violent, Fendor disagreed. He¡¯s not violent but that doesn¡¯t make him good. He¡¯s just timid.


    I¡¯ll be honest, I agree with Fendor, Lisa said.


    Me, too, Axe agreed.


    Ever since the attack the boy has been too timid, Lisa explained. Sometimes I worry that the therapist was wrong about him and the attack had affected the boy greatly.


    I love Mel, don¡¯t get me wrong, Fendor said. But let¡¯s be honest, sometimes he can be present and you¡¯ll forget.


    I remember when Ark got in trouble for beating up a kid because he said Mel didn¡¯t have a personality. Lisa laughed. I had to teach Ark calming techniques for a day to help with his temper.


    Saxi couldn¡¯t believe the conversation that was happening in his head as Melmarc shoved one of the creature¡¯s head into the wall, then proceeded to bash it in with at least four blows with a ring of mana around his wrist.


    As if it was not enough, he ripped the helmet off, along with its head and a length of rotten spine and flogged a random [Damned] with it.


    Sometimes I think Mel should be put in trying positions, Deoti said. With his size I¡¯m sure he can be a force to reckon with if he just put his mind to it.


    Saxi¡¯s jaw almost dropped. What the hell were these people saying? The boy fought like his father that one time they¡¯d been forced to fight a SS-rank Demi god.


    That¡¯s why you didn¡¯t want him helping? Fendor said. Because you want to force the boy to grow? I don¡¯t think Boss is going to like that.


    He¡¯s six feet and two inches at sixteen, Deoti said simply.


    Saxi was confused. I don¡¯t see what you¡¯re getting at.


    He plays basketball but not well enough to qualify for the school team, Fendor explained.


    That¡¯s not very surprising.


    The coach said its because he¡¯s not physical enough. He keeps avoiding contact. And the sport is a contact sport, if we¡¯re being slightly honest.


    Still nothing out of the ordinary. Saxi almost chuckled when Melmarc took a kick to the chest that sent him staggering back and into the wall. He¡¯d defended the blow with raised hands though, and the line that had tracked from the creature¡¯s foot to Melmarc¡¯s chest had been white which meant the damage would be inconsequential, so Saxi hadn¡¯t been worried.


    Let me put it to you simply, Lisa said. He would rather sit and read a book or play a board game if you gave him the choice between one of those and playing any contact sport.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    So he¡¯s a good kid that doesn¡¯t like violence. Saxi shrugged. Sounds more like he¡¯s been trying to control himself to me. Kids his age aren¡¯t usually as large as he and his brother are. It¡¯s only reasonable that he¡¯s afraid of hurting them.


    I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a fear of hurting them, Lisa said. With her communication and people skills, she was the team¡¯s mini-psychologist. I think he¡¯s just afraid of violence itself.


    Saxi couldn¡¯t help the chuckle that slipped from his lips. Trust me, I wouldn¡¯t say he¡¯s afraid of violence.


    His self defense instructor would, Lisa said.


    Deoti had a different response. Why do you say so? How¡¯s he doing?


    Saxi shrugged. He¡¯s doing alright.


    It was the understatement of the year. The boy was unbridled and emotionless violence as far as he was concerned. Saxi would¡¯ve thought that the boy had been fighting for a long while with the way he moved.


    Add a smile on Melmarc¡¯s lips and Saxi would¡¯ve said the boy loved the violence. But with how empty Melmarc¡¯s face was, Saxi wasn¡¯t even sure which he would¡¯ve preferred. A fighter that enjoyed the fight or a fighter that brought so much efficient violence without care, as if he simply did it because he was supposed to.


    Because it was inevitable.


    What about the others? Fendor asked.


    They¡¯re doing alright, too.


    Now that Saxi thought about it, maybe Melmarc was so efficient because he¡¯d been forced to fight for his life from the moment he¡¯d stepped into the portal. When you¡¯re forced into violence, a lot could change about you.


    Maybe that was why the Melmarc in front of him sounded nothing like the Melmarc the others were talking about.


    How¡¯s Boss doing? Saxi found himself asking. Down the hallway, not too far from him, Claire was checking Clinton¡¯s pulse with two fingers to his wrist. Naymond sat quietly beside Clinton with crossed legs and a worried expression.


    He¡¯s doing just fine, Lisa answered. We¡¯re in front of one of those rooms we aren¡¯t allowed to enter.


    Yea, Deoti groaned. One of those ones with the yellow barrier, right? I hate them.


    Me, too, Lisa agreed. Well, the Boss has been staring at it for the past five minutes. I think the orb¡¯s in here.


    So that thing practically said we aren¡¯t allowed to clear the portal, Deoti thought in annoyance.


    I guess it seems that way.


    Or he could just be lost in his thoughts, Saxi offered. It wasn¡¯t as long as five minutes but David did stand and stare at nothing sometimes. Ever wonder what would happen if you tried to read his mind?


    I¡¯d probably turn into a vegetable, Lisa replied without missing a beat.


    That surprised Saxi. Really?


    Lisa was a bit of a bed time horror story among the S-ranks in the country. None of the things they said about what she was capable of doing with her skills had ever been confirmed, but there were terrible rumors.


    Do you know that a [Telepath] once tried to read Boss¡¯ mind, Axe thought.


    Saxi raised his gun again, but Melmarc was already out of harm¡¯s way and body checking the [Damned] with a shoulder thrust that sent it staggering back into Nelson who threw it into a full body slam.


    From Saxi¡¯s count, they were still outnumbered at least two to one. At this point, Jude was the only one struggling out of the three of them.


    What happened to the [Telepath]? Saxi asked since no one else was going to. Since he was the last to join the team, he assumed the others already knew the story.


    Bed ridden for two months. Fendor laughed. In an asylum.


    When he got out, he kept claiming Boss had trapped him inside his mind. Deoti was just as humorous as Fendor. It was hilarious.


    I believe him. Lisa¡¯s voice came out of nowhere.


    Really? Axe asked.


    Yes, Lisa answered seriously. Boss¡¯ mind isn¡¯t the only Oath mind I¡¯ve used my skill on. I can confirm that Shield is the hardest to get into. In fact, when they tested me with her, I only succeeded in getting in when she allowed me. Getting out was difficult but not as much as getting in.


    And the Boss? Deoti asked.


    Getting in¡¯s not the problem. It¡¯s getting out.


    A terrified shiver ran through the entire telepathic link. Lisa was the source. It was surprising because she never let her emotions affect the link.


    That bad? Axe thought, sympathetic.


    Worse. You guys don¡¯t understand how much control he has. The first time I used my skill on him, I got lost.


    I don¡¯t get it, Fendor thought. Was it like a maze?


    No, Lisa answered. It was like a war zone.


    A war zone? Deoti sounded reflective. So like the after math of a war?


    No. Like a literal war. For example, you have an advanced mind which is common to mages.


    Thank you.


    But it¡¯s not really that complicated to navigate. It¡¯s like a maze, at best, but not a complicated one. People with the [Mage] class have minds like that because they spend too much time doing complex things with their skills.


    What about mine? Fendor asked, his tone filled with pure interest.


    Focused, Lisa answered. Like the regular crafter. It¡¯s like a machine just waiting to be turned on. Once it is, it comes to life with creativity. If your minds are sentences, yours are interesting four sentence paragraphs. Deoti¡¯s is a mathematician that wrote an essay but forgot that paragraphs exist.


    What of Axe? Fendor asked.


    No. It was a single word from the Delver. I do not want to know.


    Me, too, Saxi said, half of his attention still on the fight in front of him.


    Another [Damned] had gone down at Melmarc¡¯s hand. He¡¯d thrown one of those rings into its forehead. The ring had exploded and the creature¡¯s head had gone with it.


    The boy was brutal.


    So what¡¯s the Boss¡¯ like? Deoti asked, ever curious about the Oath of Madness.


    Lisa sighed. Give your sentences guns and cannons and swords and shields and have them fight against each other.


    There was a moment of silence.


    It lasted for only a moment before Deoti broke it.


    Oh.


    Oh is an understatement, Lisa replied. It¡¯s like every idea inside his head is fighting against another idea. And there are countless active ideas going through his mind at the same time. The normal person has a lot of things going on in their minds but there is always a hierarchy. An importance amongst them.


    Some of them are subconscious, Axe supplied.


    Yes, Lisa agreed. Like blinking or getting up. But even something as subconscious as blinking is an active idea in Boss¡¯ mind, and its an active part of the fight.


    So what? They¡¯re fighting for supremacy? Saxi asked. For which one will be the most important?


    Lisa snorted. I wish. It¡¯s more like they just don¡¯t want the other one to win. That¡¯s all.


    Saxi slipped his finger back into the trigger guard of his weapon. Something was getting fishy about the fight. So how did you get out?


    I didn¡¯t. Boss guided me out. The [Telepath] wasn¡¯t strictly lying. Boss didn¡¯t trap him inside his mind, the person was simply lost. The way some telepathic skills like the one strong enough to do what mine can do work is that the [Telepath] has to figure out how the subject¡¯s mind works in order to do a good work. But Boss¡¯ mind doesn¡¯t have how it works. At least, if it does, he¡¯s the only one that can figure it out.


    ¡°Ideas fighting each other,¡± Saxi muttered to himself.


    It had to be a tough way to live.


    And his mind is always like that? He asked.


    Anytime I use a skill on it.


    Suddenly, Melmarc moved from where he was standing in relative safety and was behind Jude. Saxi raised his gun immediately as an extremely short line appeared between the swung mace of one of the [Damned] and Melmarc.


    Saxi¡¯s mind was already running haywire with his gun raised when the blood red line suddenly turned a translucent white.


    Melmarc braced himself for impact and swung a defensive forearm into the blow. The mace struck him on the forearm and bounced off as if it had struck a particularly sturdy stone.


    Saxi¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s face twisted in pain, his mouth opened in a soundless cry. Despite it all, he was already on the move. He slipped beneath the creature, caught it by the arm, kicked it behind the knee so that it fell down to its knee, placing it at a comfortable height and pulled its head back.


    ¡°Jed!¡± he called out.


    Jed turned, ducking away from his attacker, and came to a stand. Melmarc pulled its head farther back as if indicating the thing¡¯s neck.


    Jed¡¯s eyes narrowed in a questioning look. Melmarc nodded. Saxi shook his head.


    He could see the entire plan. Melmarc¡¯s intent. It was ludicrous. Saxi had no idea how Melmarc had even survived the first strike but there had to be consequences to what he was about to do.


    But as much as he wanted to shout out his objection, he feared the outcome would be worse. But there was nothing he could do. He didn¡¯t trust his aim well enough to shoot the [Damned] from where it was.


    Jed swung his knife. A blue slash erupted from it and shot at Melmarc. It severed the head of the [Damned] but not completely. The attack stopped at the spine in the neck.


    Jed frowned as the [Damned] continued to struggle in Melmarc¡¯s hold. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have another attack to give since he became occupied with another [Damned].


    With a frown Saxi took aim. The [Damned] continued to struggle. Taking the shot would be difficult. It would be¡­ Saxi frowned.


    There was a mild sensation. It was not enough to be a distraction, but it was there, like the breeze in your hair during a fight. It was there but not enough to dissuade you from your actions.


    A second or two later, Melmarc put his back into it and ripped the creature¡¯s head open with enough strain.


    A red line appeared behind him almost immediately. That one was a [Damned] Saxi could deal with. He shifted his aim and Melmarc stepped out from the line easily. It went from red to nonexistent.


    The [Damned] struck, quick and efficient. It missed entirely.


    Saxi frowned at that. For a moment he wondered if it was luck. Then he saw the look on Melmarc¡¯s face. He looked as if he knew what he did but was surprised by it. He raised his head and made eye contact with Saxi.


    ¡°What just happened?¡± Saxi muttered to himself.


    Melmarc still looked slightly confused on his side of the living room.


    What did the Boss¡¯ friend say Melmarc¡¯s class was again? Saxi asked as Melmarc returned himself into the fray of the fight, ducking, and weaving, and striking.


    He didn¡¯t say, Deoti answered. Why?


    No reason.


    The rest of the fight was smooth and seamless after that. Melmarc fought with the same detached efficiency as he¡¯d done. Surprisingly enough, Saxi couldn¡¯t help but notice that he had become faster since his tag team with Jed. He¡¯d also become stronger. Sharper.


    There was also the more disturbing part of where each time Saxi¡¯s skill informed him of an action that led to a path of danger against Melmarc, Melmarc was always quick to disrupt it or step out of it. It was eerie to watch.


    For Saxi, it felt like watching the version of him people liked to describe whenever that saw him in a fight.


    Saxi had a very strong feeling that the boy was using his skill. Whatever was happening, Melmarc had to be seeing whatever lines that he was seeing.


    I¡¯ve got to ask, Deoti piped up after a while.


    Ask what? Fendor replied.


    In front of Saxi the fight was coming to an end. All four Gifted were bullying the last [Damned]. They were almost toying with the creature as they literally beat it to death.


    Not you, big head, Deoti thought. I meant Lisa.


    I¡¯m listening, Lisa replied.


    Are you telling me that every time you establish these connections for our communication the Boss always has to guide you out of his mind in the end?


    Lisa chuckled, and Saxi had a feeling she¡¯d also chuckled verbally.


    God no, she thought, that would be stressful for me. While I¡¯m in you guys¡¯ head, touching only on your surface mind so that I can link all of you to me, I¡¯m more in the Boss¡¯ ear. Linking him to me would be nothing short of madness.


    Wait, you¡¯re never in his mind? Deoti sounded surprised.


    Oh, I¡¯m there, just hovering at the edge of it, barely touching.


    Then what¡¯s the whole sound effect we hear anytime he thinks? Axe asked.


    It¡¯s so distracting, Fendor complained. Not that I¡¯m complaining.


    Lisa gave a thoughtful pause before she replied. Think of it as the sound of the war of ideas.


    But you just said that you¡¯re not in his mind but in his ear.


    True. Now imagine what it sounds like inside his actual mind.


    That¡¯s terrifying.


    Yep. Boss is more terrifying than you people think. You have no idea how much control he has to have to have a mind like that and still walk around and act normal.


    Fendor chuckled. Boss doesn¡¯t act normal.


    Trust me, Fendor. The fact that he acts the way he does already scares me. He¡¯s a walking impossibility as far as telepaths are concerned.


    In front of Saxi, Melmarc and the other Delvers were what was left of the fight. Their entire section of the living room was a mess. Broken chairs were technically crushed. The carpet¡ªwhat was left of it¡ªwas shredded beyond what it had once been.


    Everyone sported one injury or the other. For Melmarc, it was only a bruise on the forearm he¡¯d been kicked in where the others had cut marks and sharp injuries.


    It was a good thing they had a Healer with them.


    Saxi held up his gun and looked at it. ¡°Also a good thing I didn¡¯t have to use this.¡±


    The gun was not a weapon designed for stealth in anyway.


    He raised a hand to catch their attention and Melmarc was the first to turn to him.


    ¡°Nelson,¡± Saxi called out to the tanker. ¡°You¡¯re Nelson, right?¡±


    The large man nodded.


    ¡°Can you come help us with Clinton so we can continue on our way.¡± Saxi nodded towards the hallway. ¡°Our destination isn¡¯t far anymore.¡±


    As Nelson walked back, past him, and towards the hallway, he added: ¡°And get your injuries checked.¡±


    The others started walking over to him. Saxi waited as the others drew near. Jude had the most of the injuries and Saxi found himself wondering if the Delver had even killed a single [Damned].


    Melmarc was staring at nothing as he approached. He was clearly looking at his interface. Saxi wondered if he was checking his mastery.


    Unlike the others, Melmarc didn¡¯t make his way back into the hallway. Instead, he came to a stop beside Saxi.


    ¡°How did you know my class and rank?¡± Saxi asked.


    ¡°I have a skill,¡± Melmarc answered.


    Saxi nodded as if he understood. And he did. Class information was always advisable to be kept a secret unless you had to divulge it. It was a good mentality.


    ¡°You played it a little loose during that fight,¡± Saxi said. ¡°You had reckless moments. Like that thing you did with Jed.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Was it a skill that made you sure it would work?¡± Saxi asked.


    Is the fight over? Deoti asked.


    Yea, Saxi answered.


    How far are you from me?


    Two rooms. I¡¯m approaching you from the, Saxi checked his map, North. Just hold your position.


    Got it.


    Saxi returned his attention to Melmarc but the boy looked like he wasn¡¯t interested in having much of a conversation anymore.


    He was a spitting image of his father in this moment. Lost in his own thought even though he was present. He is so much like his father.


    He¡¯s his kid, so no surprise there, Axe thought.


    Saxi shook his head. Oh, no. You guys have no idea. Trust me.


    ¡°I saw you looking at your interface earlier,¡± Saxi said, unable to shake the urge to be the adult that holds a conversation with a kid just to make them more comfortable. ¡°Did your mastery go up in a skill?¡±


    Melmarc paused. He looked as if he was considering his next words.


    ¡°You¡¯re an S-rank Gifted.¡±


    It was a statement of fact but Saxi still nodded. ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ve experienced a lot of things.¡±


    ¡°Also correct.¡±


    Melmarc blinked. It was slow, purposeful. ¡°Have you ever heard of a skill that goes over ten percent mastery but does not give you an alternative.¡±


    Saxi nodded. ¡°I knew a guy who had a contaminated skill that didn¡¯t give him an alternate skill. Sadly, he¡¯s no longer with us.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, unbothered by the information of the dead Gifted. ¡°What of a skill that passed ten percent but didn¡¯t give an alternative and didn¡¯t evolve?¡±


    Saxi shook his head. ¡°That would be a first. I don¡¯t even think it¡¯s possible.¡±


    ¡°I agree.¡± Melmarc nodded thoughtfully. ¡°Sounds like an error for something like that to happen. An anomaly.¡±


    Saxi nodded slowly. It was difficult to imagine but he wondered if that had happened to Melmarc.


    He wanted to ask but had a feeling that the boy would ignore him. I think your favorite might need therapy again, Deoti.


    It was always in the realm of possibilities, Deoti replied a little saddened. Having to go through all this out of nowhere must be tough. But he¡¯s definitely going to get the best.


    Best believe that, Fendor added.


    Saxi looked up at Melmarc. The empty expression. The now piercing eyes that seemed to be contemplating too many things. Those eyes had been calmer during the fight. Now that he thought about it, Melmarc hadn¡¯t been anywhere he wasn¡¯t supposed to be during the fight.


    He had been in sync with the rest of the team.


    Well, not necessarily in sync with them. The entire team¡¯s teamwork had been a mess, but he had been in the right places. The necessary places.


    When he¡¯d put the [Damned] down and teamed up with Jed, he hadn¡¯t hesitated. He turned in Jed¡¯s exact direction and signaled for the attack as if he¡¯d known where the Delver would be. It was difficult to believe since Jed fought like a Delver with a focus on agility, always moving around and all over the place, doing ten things to achieve a single goal.


    Melmarc was going to need more than just therapy if he was going to return to that sweet harmless boy that Deoti had come to know and love.


    Melmarc looked down at him. ¡°Is everything fine?¡±


    Saxi nodded. ¡°Peachy. Deoti¡¯s just around the corner.¡±


    A frown creased Melmarc¡¯s brow as if something annoying had just happened. It was a shadow of one of the Oath of Madness¡¯ very limited number of expressions.


    It reminded Saxi of the one the Oath of Madness had whenever someone told a lie.


    He looked down at the bruise on Melmarc¡¯s arm. ¡°You should get that checked before we continue.¡±


    Melmarc looked down at it. It was red. ¡°It¡¯s not a problem.¡± He paused, the same look crossing his face once more. ¡°It¡¯s not a big problem.¡±


    It didn¡¯t take long for the other to reconvene with Saxi.


    ¡°So what¡¯s next?¡± Jed asked.


    Saxi looked at their Healer first, Claire. She looked drained. Even he knew that Healers were important. The last thing you needed as a team was to overwork your Healer.


    Although he didn¡¯t think she¡¯d done anything to drain herself. Then again, she was only C-rank, and Saxi was used to S-rank Healers.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡± he asked her first.


    She gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Peachy.¡±


    Melmarc gave her a look but said nothing.


    Saxi nodded. She was obviously lying. But he wasn¡¯t going to push it. They were going to meet their interim Healer who was capable of much violence, after all.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s¡ª¡±


    Saxi was cut off by the sound of a door on one side of the living room opening. Deoti burst out from it with a worried look on her face.


    I thought I told you to hold your position? Saxi scowled.


    Deoti gave him no outward reaction. And I held it for as long as I could.


    Melmarc turned when the door opened and his eyes focused on Deoti. When they settled on her, they softened.


    Deoti gave him a wide smile. Saxi had to admit that it was pretty on her round face. When she smiled, with her crazy bouncy curls, she was actually cute.


    He could see what Fendor saw in her.


    Deoti came to a stop a few feet from Melmarc, her eyes scanning him for any injuries. They settled on his arm immediately and she shot Saxi a short scowl.


    I thought you were supposed to protect him, her thoughts came at him, sharp.


    Saxi shrugged. I did. He¡¯s not some toddler, an injury or two were inevitable.


    ¡°Hi, Mel,¡± Deoti said fondly, as if she hadn¡¯t just had a short displeasure with Saxi. ¡°No hug for aunty Deoti?¡±


    Melmarc took a single step forward, hesitated, then crossed the remaining distance. He came to a stop in front of Deoti.


    ¡°I¡¯m sixteen,¡± he mumbled timidly. ¡°I might be too old for a hug.¡±


    Deoti paled in size next to him. Not in height, though he was taller than her by a good head, but in size.


    Deoti scoffed, still smiling. ¡°Well, then I guess it¡¯s a good thing that the hug¡¯s for me.¡±


    Melmarc looked her in the eye before stepping forward and hugging her. He wrapped his arm around her in an easy embrace and she returned the gesture.


    ¡°You¡¯ve grown,¡± she said.


    ¡°Thanks, aunty.¡± It was all Melmarc had to say.


    She created a little space between them so that she could look up at him. ¡°I hope you haven¡¯t let your brother influence you. You¡¯re still a good boy, right?¡±


    Melmarc looked down and away, shy. Then he scratched the back of his neck nervously. The action made him look bigger. ¡°Yes, aunty.¡±


    Saxi almost chuckled. Deoti had no idea. But she would¡­ hopefully.


    Beside him, the others looked at Melmarc with varying degrees of blatant confusion. It was like watching people stare at a vicious bear acting like nothing but a teddy bear.


    That was the proper reaction to what was happening.


    Naymond leaned out from behind the group and waved at Deoti. ¡°Hello.¡±


    Deoti looked at him and her face tightened in anger.


    ¡°[Sage],¡± she said bitterly.


    Naymond smiled impishly. ¡°[Mage].¡±


    That got a new reaction out of everybody.


    ¡°Saxi,¡± Deoti said, returning her complete attention to Melmarc. ¡°Please punch him in the face.¡±


    Saxi wasn¡¯t sure what that was about but he wasn¡¯t about to punch a [Sage] in the face. More importantly, he was stuck wondering what Melmarc¡¯s class was. The boy had fought like someone with high strength stats. Then there were the hits he¡¯d taken without damage that made him feel like a tank.


    That brought a new question to mind.


    Does anyone know the Boss¡¯ class?


    The response he got came from everyone as one.


    No.

 SEVENTY-FIVE: August Intruder

    Deoti looked down at Melmarc¡¯s forearm. A touch of worry danced on her brows, they furrowed, then squeezed somehow, then relaxed.


    She had extricated herself from their hug, giving Melmarc some reprieve. He felt a little bad to say it but he had really felt embarrassed to be hugged in front of everybody. There was just something about fighting for a couple of days and being taken seriously just to end up being hugged and babied by your aunt that was discomforting.


    Deoti raised his forearm, her own arm surprisingly small in comparison. It made Melmarc wonder just how long ago it had been since he¡¯d seen her.


    Just how big am I getting?


    Deoti stared down at the bruise that covered a portion of Melmarc¡¯s forearm. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of this right now, don¡¯t worry.¡±


    That was surprising, Melmarc thought. Then again, the [Mage] class was as enigmatic as it was versatile. People believed that with enough skill evolution and alternative skills, a [Mage] could arguably emulate any class with the magic they could command.


    Deoti¡¯s hand hovered over the bruise and her fingers danced as if she was sprinkling spices on a meal. To Melmarc¡¯s surprise, soft and gentle colors dropped from her hand onto his arm. They were tiny, like actual grounded spices or finely washed sand. They glittered a soft white and green.


    First, the bruise stopped hurting. It grew numb. Then feeling returned to the portion of his forearm. The bruise turned a light shade of red, then pink, before returning to the color of his forearm.


    Melmarc would be lying if he said it wasn¡¯t impressive. He looked at Deoti and found her looking up at him with that smile she¡¯d always had on the few occasions he¡¯d met her in the past. A time when he didn¡¯t know just how powerful she was. It was the smile you gave a child when you were putting on a show for them and were glad they were impressed.


    I bet she didn¡¯t need to do the whole sprinkling thing.


    Deoti placed a gentle hand on Melmarc¡¯s forearm and tapped it. ¡°Should be good as new.¡±


    Melmarc gave her a grateful smile. Before the conversation could be moved along she reached up to pat him on the cheek. Melmarc didn¡¯t have to but he leaned his head slightly down so that it would be easier for her to reach his face. Not that she needed any help.


    Deoti¡¯s smile grew fonder. ¡°Still a good boy.¡±


    When she was done she stepped back to really take him in. She stood quietly. Her eyes gave him a thorough survey. It settled on his chest for a moment, bare, uncovered behind a torn shirt. She moved on, went to his pants. They were nothing to write home about. While [Knowledge is Power] had done its task of saving him a number of times, it cared nothing for his clothes.


    Deoti¡¯s eyes moved down to his shoes before finally moving back up to settle on his hair.


    She¡¯d scrutinized him, and Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember when last he¡¯d cared about how he looked. Now, however, he was feeling a touch of self-consciousness.


    Deoti¡¯s expression saddened. ¡°You¡¯ve been through a lot, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw tightened. He said nothing. He didn¡¯t nod. He didn¡¯t move his lips. Realization just dawned on him that he wasn¡¯t ready to tell the truth. The truth was evident and obvious, uncovered. But he wasn¡¯t ready to tell it.


    And he couldn¡¯t shrug it off and say ¡®not really.¡¯ People did that with people they knew for one of two reasons. Either they didn¡¯t want the other person to be bothered about what they couldn¡¯t change or they were not ready for the conversation that would come with the truth.


    Ultimately, one thing that existed in both reasons was the subtle need to convince themselves that even if things weren¡¯t going to be fine, or weren¡¯t fine, in that moment, they could be. At least that¡¯s what Uncle Dorthna had told him once when he was small.


    Melmarc almost sighed at his inability to do even that. He¡¯d picked up a useful trait that wouldn¡¯t let him.


    So speaking the truth was something he wasn¡¯t ready to face, but lying would force him to face the truth because he would be blatantly reminded that it was a lie.


    I wonder if a nod would work.


    He doubted it, so he didn¡¯t give it.


    ¡°He¡¯s been through more than a lot,¡± Naymond said from the back.


    Deoti shot him a scathing look. Saxi, it turned out, had not punched him. It was a good thing since Melmarc didn¡¯t want Naymond punched. After all, he wasn¡¯t the only one that had been through a lot.


    ¡°No one asked for your opinion, [Sage].¡± She said his class with such bitterness that it was a sharp contrast to the fondness she was giving him.


    Naymond didn¡¯t look the least bit bothered by it, or threatened. Instead, he gave Melmarc a friendly look and shrugged.


    Deoti scowled. ¡°I swear he¡¯s a terrible influence.¡± She looked up at Melmarc. ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t let him¡ª¡±


    ¡°I heard that Dad¡¯s here,¡± Melmarc interrupted her politely.


    Deoti¡¯s nod was slow.


    She¡¯d always had an odd reaction to their relationship with their dad. Sometimes it was as if she worried for them because of how naturally they took to their father¡¯s lack of emotion or at least his lack of expressive emotions. And while she wasn¡¯t the only one who probably had the same worry, she was the only one who had a difficult time keeping it from her face.


    As for Melmarc, it was good to confirm that his dad was around. Saxi had told him the same thing but it was a different thing to confirm it from Deoti. It somehow made it feel real. Very real.


    ¡°Is he far?¡± he asked.


    Deoti¡¯s head tilted slightly to the side before she nodded. ¡°Not very. A few living rooms and stairs and we should be with him.¡±


    That meant more fights. Melmarc had no issues with that. More fights meant more [EP]s. That reminded him that he hadn¡¯t really checked his current amount. The last fight had given him a handful for the [Damned] he¡¯d killed and the [Damned] he¡¯d affected in some way before someone else had killed them.


    ¡°But you can¡¯t meet your dad like this,¡± Deoti said, drawing Melmarc¡¯s attention. ¡°It¡¯s just not possible.¡±


    Dissonant.


    ¡°Not right,¡± Deoti finished as if correcting herself.


    Melmarc realized something. His dad¡¯s colleagues he had met in the past had a specific habit that he hadn¡¯t really thought about before since he didn¡¯t see them often. Sometimes they could say something that was considered normal only to pause and repeat it with specifics. Just like what Deoti had done.


    They did it regardless of if his parents were present in the same room at the time or not. It made him wonder if one of his parents had the exact ¡®dissonant¡¯ trait he was exhibiting or something similar.


    My money¡¯s on dad.


    Deoti took on a thoughtful expression. ¡°You¡¯ll need something close to your father¡¯s size. Maybe a size or two smaller.¡±


    She held her hand out to her side and something black appeared in the air. It was like a hole. She moved her hand inside and pulled out a folded up shirt. She held it up, examined it. It was clearly too large so she tossed it back into the hole carelessly and it closed.


    Melmarc simply stared. Was it a portal power or a storage power? Both were cool and rare. But a portal power that allowed you move from one location to another was significantly rarer than a storage power.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know of any Gifted that had both.


    Another hole appeared and Deoti pulled out another shirt. This was a dark grey with the words ¡®Love me like you do¡¯ emblazoned on the front in pink.


    Deoti scowled at the shirt he moment she held it up. Her brows furrowed in annoyance and she looked as if she had a few words she would¡¯ve liked to say to the portal as she flung the shirt back in.


    Behind Melmarc, Saxi chuckled.


    The third time the hole appeared, she got a well sized blue shirt, plain with nothing written on it. No words. No designs. No brand sign. Nothing.


    She held it up to Melmarc¡¯s body. ¡°This should be nice¡­ right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. As he took the shirt, he realized that nobody had said a thing since he¡¯d hugged Deoti. He took off the shirt he was wearing quite easily and slipped on the one Deoti had given him over his head.


    When he brought it down and adjusted it, it was a good fit. A size too large but good enough.


    ¡°Your scar,¡± Deoti said. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s hand moved absently over his stomach. He wasn¡¯t sure when it had happened, but at some point after entering the portal he just hadn¡¯t had it anymore. He couldn¡¯t remember when it had happened, specifically.


    ¡°When did that happen?¡± Deoti asked.


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I actually don¡¯t know. It just wasn¡¯t there at some point.¡±


    With that out of the way, he turned, gave some space so that he wasn¡¯t standing between Deoti and the others. The first thing he noted was that Clinton was standing on his own now.


    When did that happen?


    For a moment, Melmarc realized how odd it was not to not know when something was happening around him. He¡¯d grown slightly used to just knowing. If Claire turned and gave Jude a dirty glare, he knew it. If Jed picked his nose when he thought no one was watching, he knew it.


    He had to remind himself that knowing what was happening around him in real time wasn¡¯t normal. At least not for him. Maybe he¡¯d been using [World of Insight] a little too much.


    ¡°Aunt Deoti,¡± he said, gesturing at the others. ¡°This is Clinton¡¯s team.¡±


    Deoti took on a sudden business-like position. She folded her arms over her chest and settled her eyes on the Delvers. She looked like a drill sergeant in a movie very determined to show how strict the military was.


    Clinton gave a small bow. ¡°Ma¡¯am.¡±


    Deoti hated being called ma¡¯am from what Melmarc knew.


    Deoti gave him a simple nod. ¡°How long have you and your team been here?¡±


    Clinton looked from side to side at the others. ¡°A few hours. Almost a day.¡±


    He looked skittish. Like he was at a life changing interview and was worried he might fumble and fail.


    Now that Melmarc thought about it, the others looked the exact same way. The only person that seemed immune was Naymond.


    They hadn¡¯t been this worried and skittish when they¡¯d met Saxi, though.


    Melmarc looked from Deoti to them and back. Was she intentionally being intimidating? That didn¡¯t sound like her. Still, Melmarc wasn¡¯t foolish. The person people were at work and at home were sometimes different. You didn¡¯t expect a father to treat his kids the same way he would treat his colleagues or clients.


    ¡°Where¡¯s your Healer?¡± Deoti asked, tone commanding.


    Claire raised her hand like a student in a classroom during roll call.


    Deoti squinted at her. ¡°You look tired.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, ma¡¯am.¡± Claire didn¡¯t meet her eyes.


    Dissonant.


    ¡°Your tank?¡± Deoti asked, moving on from her.


    Nelson let out a subtle grunt. Deoti¡¯s eyes glanced over him and she nodded.


    ¡°Damage Dealers,¡± she said. ¡°How many do you have?¡±


    ¡°Three.¡± Clinton pointed at himself, Jed and Jude. ¡°That¡¯s us.¡±


    Saxi gestured at Jude with a tilt of his chin, walking over to Melmarc and Deoti. ¡°That one¡¯s not very good.¡±


    Jude¡¯s jaw clenched but he didn¡¯t say anything.


    Deoti gave Saxi a look as if he¡¯d done something wrong. ¡°Did you have to say it out loud?¡±


    ¡°I wanted everyone to know.¡± Saxi shrugged. ¡°And I wanted him to know that everyone knows. He keeps acting like no one knows. Like he can hide the fact that this portal is actually a poor match up for him. It can get someone killed.¡±


    Deoti paused, thought about it, then nodded. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not necessary right now. The path is clear.¡±


    Saxi looked at her, brows furrowed with a question resting between them. ¡°All of it?¡±


    ¡°Just mine.¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t the plan to lea¡ª¡± Saxi paused, then sighed.


    He folded his arms and Deoti shrugged as if it was an answer to a question. After a while, she returned her attention to the Delvers.


    ¡°Did you lose your comms specialist?¡± she asked. ¡°Or is someone playing dual roles.¡±


    Clinton shook his head. ¡°No communications specialist, ma¡¯am.¡±


    Why isn¡¯t she saying anything about the ma¡¯am?


    Something about his thoughts must have shown on his face because Saxi leaned into him.


    ¡°Cool, right?¡± Saxi said. ¡°Look at all of them, at attention like actual soldiers.¡±


    Melmarc leaned down slightly. ¡°What¡¯s that about?¡±


    ¡°Everyone¡¯s terrified of a [Mage].¡± Saxi gestured at Claire with a nod. ¡°Two people you don¡¯t want to get on the bad side of during a Delve. Your Healer and a [Mage], if you have one.¡±


    It made sense. You definitely didn¡¯t want your Healer hesitating to heal you. And the [Mage] class was supposed to be as powerful as it was rare. You don¡¯t want someone significantly powerful turning that power on you.


    The [Mage] class and [Faker] class were really on two sides of a scale. The [Faker] faced disdain and disapproval. The [Mage] class faced fear and approval. Melmarc couldn¡¯t say he blamed the bias. From a base stand point the ability of the [Mage] class was based on their achievement, the [Faker] class was based on the achievement of other people.


    Deoti looked displeased. ¡°An incomplete team from the beginning. I¡¯m surprised you¡¯ve lasted this long.¡±


    ¡°We make it work,¡± Clinton said.


    ¡°You mean your Healer made it work.¡± Deoti unfolded her arms to gesture at Claire. ¡°She¡¯s barely allowed herself replenish her mana.¡±


    Clinton glanced at Claire and a pained look crossed his face. She looked like she¡¯d run a marathon, but without the panting and the sweating. She just looked knackered.


    Melmarc touched Deoti¡¯s arm with the side of his and she looked up at him.


    ¡°Be nice,¡± he muttered, doing his best to make sure his voice was kind.


    Deoti frowned. ¡°Delver teams should be composed. Organized.¡±


    ¡°They were coupled together, I¡¯m guessing last minute,¡± Naymond interjected. ¡°Kind of like a last minute thing.¡±


    Deoti shot him a dark look, the one reserved for him before looking at Saxi. ¡°Please punch him in the face. I¡¯ll pay.¡±


    Saxi looked from her to Naymond. ¡°I get why she doesn¡¯t like you, I¡¯ve known you a handful of minutes and I don¡¯t like you. But that right there is hate. What could you possibly have done?¡±


    ¡°Stole her ca¡ª¡± Naymond perked up and darted behind Nelson. Melmarc tensed up at the same time, a small static going through, something inconsequential.


    A streak of lightning went through the air where Naymond had been standing and dissipated into nothingness.


    Naymond peeked out from behind Nelson with a worried frown. ¡°There are bloody civilians over here. Lower ranks.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please. You know my aim is true.¡± Deoti looked like she wasn¡¯t done aiming. ¡°You were the one that¡­¡± she paused and looked at Melmarc. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, did you feel anything?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. But he was more interested in how Naymond had known she was going to strike.


    Was it her form?


    If it was, then that was a boon in any fight. Almost as big a boon as Saxi¡¯s skill that let you know when harm was being intended on you and from what direction it would come. Being able to tell a person was going to use a skill before they used it was amazing.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    But this conversation had gone on long enough. They¡¯d talked, eased the tension of the fight they¡¯d gone through. There was also the update that there would actually be no more fights since Deoti had taken care of he monsters on the way.


    ¡°Can we go to my dad?¡± Melmarc inquired. There was a part of him that was growing impatient.


    ¡°Certainly.¡± Deoti smiled at him then turned back to the others. ¡°There is only one thing you need to know,¡± she said. ¡°When you meet the person we are going to meet, do not lie. In the short conversation I¡¯ve had with you, you¡¯ve all lied to some degree. Do not lie in front of him.¡±


    Saxi smiled as if he was enjoying himself and shook his head. ¡°You definitely do not want to lie to him.¡±


    ¡­


    Melmarc was looking at his interface.


    [You have slain Damned(B)]


    [You have gained EP +59]


    [EP 562]


    He wondered how much increment he could get on [Optimum Existence] with it. How much was it last time?


    A moment later, Melmarc frowned at his inability to remember. He could pull up his interface history and track the notifications down but that sounded like it would be too much work. Unnecessary work, too.


    With a thought he pulled up [Optimum Existence].


    [Optimum Existence (02.00%)]


    The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.


    Melmarc¡¯s thoughts ran a quick memory. He didn¡¯t go for details, just general knowledge. If [Optimum Existence] was a mere two percent, there was a slight issue. He didn¡¯t remember how much [EP] he¡¯d had before but it was more than what he currently had, and all of that had gotten him only two percent.


    It was [EP] gathered over a week plus, though.


    [Would You like to resume progression of Perk: Optimum Existence?]


    [Y/N]


    Yes.


    [Alert!]


    [Ambient mana is tainted, progress is halted.]


    [Alternate source of progression detected]


    [EP detected]


    [Would you like to consume EP to resume progress?]


    [Y/N]


    Yes.


    Melmarc felt like he should wait, gain the boost when he had the necessary amount of [EP]s. But it would be stupid to not gather as much advantage as he could whenever he could. He was technically in a war zone.


    [Are you sure?]


    [Y/N]


    [Please note that EP can be used to upgrade skill percentage and increase stats.]


    Melmarc paused in his steps. He didn¡¯t know that. He¡¯d never even heard of that before. If people knew there was a way to increase their stats things would go haywire.


    There were already people who entered portals illegally just to see if they could gain some rare materials or just increase the mastery of their skills. There were rankers with weapons that were powerful because they came from portals.


    There was a chance that the Orb of Caldath was going to be a rare resource.


    But that was unimportant. What was important was the fact that he could upgrade his stats. And he didn¡¯t think it was just the stats he had active, not from what [Bless Your Kindness] had taught him. If he could actually go through all his stats and upgrade them at choice, he could be invincible.


    All I¡¯ll need are the [EP]s.


    All he would need were enough portals and enough monsters to kill. He¡¯d had his disappointment when he¡¯d gotten his class. Then he¡¯d gotten the [August Intruder] thing and had seen a ray of hope. He would¡¯ve at least been strong within a portal, stronger than he was outside.


    But this¡­


    This is a game changer.


    ¡°Mel?¡±


    Melmarc raised his head to find Deoti looking back at him. He had stopped walking and was staring down at his interface. His current situation on the subject of [EP] required more thought.


    ¡°He¡¯s a big boy, isn¡¯t he?¡± Saxi said as if on an aside.


    Deoti nodded. ¡°His father¡¯s son.¡±


    She had a look on her face when she said the words. Ark had pointed out once upon a time that she always had a look on her face whenever she spoke of their dad. Melmarc was seeing it now. The problem was that he couldn¡¯t place what it was.


    Wistful?


    He shook the thought from his mind and picked up the pace. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    Deoti patted him on the back and smiled. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you still enjoy looking at your interface.¡± They continued the walk, the others waiting for Saxi to go back to leading the way. ¡°I remember when I got my class. When I first saw my interface.¡±


    Her expression turned nostalgic. ¡°Good times.¡±


    Saxi chuckled from the front of the group. ¡°I remember mine. The first thing I did when I got my class was run from home.¡±


    He laughed some more.


    ¡°Hey, friend.¡± Naymond tapped him on the back. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the kind of nostalgia we were going for. You¡¯re making your home sound kind of on the bad side of things.¡±


    Saxi looked back, saw the expressions on everyone¡¯s faces and paused.


    ¡°Gods, no,¡± he added in a panic. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant. They were amazing people.¡±


    Naymond raised a brow with an emphatically impish grin. ¡°Were?¡±


    Saxi palmed his forehead in frustration. ¡°I should¡¯ve punched you,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°My family members are amazing people. I¡¯m a [Guide] and I got an interesting class that was good for finding things so I got curious and went looking for what I wasn¡¯t supposed to.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I was an overactive and curious child. Always looking for something. In hindsight, my class shouldn¡¯t have come as a surprise.¡±


    Deoti nodded to herself before turning to Melmarc as if she was just remembering something. ¡°Did you tell Saxi that Naymond was not under your command?¡±


    Naymond stiffened slightly but said nothing.


    Deoti looked at Melmarc. ¡°Did you?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Melmarc shook his head. ¡°But I didn¡¯t tell him that he was.¡±


    Deoti turned thoughtful, though she still had a frown on her lips. She cocked her head to the side. Her frown deepened. They continued to walk, going through a door Saxi had opened. After a while, her expression relaxed. Softened.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s alright,¡± she said in the end.


    ¡°Why is it such a big deal?¡± he asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± Deoti looked at a door they passed with a touch of annoyance. It had a barrier like some of the others. ¡°At least it¡¯s not supposed to be. But your dad seemed quite adamant that you not accept. It was kind of odd so I¡¯m guessing it has something to do with him and you being his son.¡±


    Melmarc gave her an intentionally puzzled look.


    ¡°Now that you¡¯re a Gifted, it¡¯s okay to know that your dad holds an important position in the government. So I¡¯m guessing he couldn¡¯t afford to let you do something as his son.¡± She shrugged.


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc simply nodded. He guessed there was more to being an Oath than Naymond and Deoti were willing to tell him. Deoti more than Naymond.


    One thing was for sure. Dad knows everything about this.


    Something told him that his father wouldn¡¯t keep it a secret from him. And if he did, then Melmarc would have to hope he saw Veebee on his way out or he would have to put Delano¡¯s skills on finding out things he wasn¡¯t supposed to know to the test.


    Saxi paused in front of a door and took a deep breath.


    Naymond snorted. ¡°Definitely still new. What are you? One year? Two?¡±


    Saxi scowled at him. ¡°He can be intense.¡±


    Naymond raised his hands in surrender. ¡°I¡¯m not judging. I know what you mean.¡± He glanced at Melmarc. ¡°I¡¯ve still got the trauma to prove it.¡±


    Saxi¡¯s scowl softened. He suddenly looked as if he was looking at a comrade. ¡°Sorry.¡±


    Naymond dismissed the consolation with a wave. ¡°It¡¯s what it is.¡±


    Jude leaned into Jed. ¡°Anyone know who this kid¡¯s dad¡¯s supposed to be?¡± he looked worried. ¡°No one told us anything.¡±


    ¡°He has an S-rank [Mage] answering to him so definitely no one small.¡± Jed looked back, as if making sure he wasn¡¯t offending Deoti with his words. ¡°Why?¡±


    Jude looked back, too. He lowered his voice. ¡°You think the kid¡¯s still annoyed by what happened?¡±


    Jed shrugged. ¡°He doesn¡¯t look like the kind to be petty. He broke your rib as pay back, didn¡¯t he? Besides, he also won the fight. I¡¯d say you¡¯re good.¡±


    Naymond froze where he was standing with Saxi. His head turned slowly, comically. An impish smile settled on his lips when his eyes settled on Jed and Jude.


    ¡°Christmas,¡± he said, grin growing wider, ¡°came early.¡±


    Jude looked confused. ¡°What¡¯s he talking about?¡±


    Deoti moved very quickly. She grabbed Jude by the arm, twisted it up his back and slammed his face into the wall beside the door. ¡°What the fuck did you do?¡±


    Jed winced. ¡°Maybe this wasn¡¯t the right place to ask questions.¡±


    Jude¡¯s eyes went to Melmarc. They were pleading. Begging.


    Deoti pressed his face into the wall. The wall didn¡¯t crack or break but the space between her hand and he wall seemed to reduce ever so slightly. Pain lit up Jude¡¯s face.


    He¡¯s already been punished! A scowl creased Melmarc¡¯s lips. He gritted his teeth to hold back the sudden emotion that bubbled inside him.


    It wasn¡¯t necessarily anger. But it was something.


    ¡°Aunt Deoti,¡± he said, doing his best to keep his words civil.


    Deoti turned to him but kept Jude¡¯s face pinned to the wall. ¡°Yes, dear.¡±


    She still looked pissed but her tone was kind, caring. It was a sharp contrast. It would¡¯ve been worrying if Melmarc didn¡¯t have something more important to handle.


    ¡°Please release him,¡± he said.


    For a moment it looked like she wasn¡¯t going to listen, then she released Jude almost abruptly.


    She took a military step back and Jude basically crumpled to the floor before catching himself. He held his face and Melmarc saw a bruise where it had been pinned to wall.


    ¡°What did he do?¡± Deoti asked, venom in her voice.


    ¡°Nothing that matters anymore.¡±


    Deoti didn¡¯t look like that response was going to be sufficient. ¡°That¡¯s not an answer, Mel.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been punished for it,¡± Melmarc said.


    Deoti shook her head. ¡°Has he? Has he really?¡±


    Insubordination.


    Melmarc shook his head, surprised by the thought. At least partly surprised. At this point he doubted there was anything his mind would throw at him that would surprise him. It could tell him to kill someone right now and he wouldn¡¯t really be surprised.


    Dissonant.


    Alright, maybe not kill someone, he grumbled. But you get the point.


    Regardless, he had to deal with the insubordination. But how did you deal with insubordination when the person was stronger than you and didn¡¯t answer to you. That thought made him realize that his mind didn¡¯t make sense.


    Insubordination only occurred when someone beneath your command and responsibility decided to act against your command and responsibility. Deoti was in no way under his command and responsibility. If anything, he was the one under her responsibility right now.


    ¡°Deoti,¡± Saxi said before Melmarc could say anything. ¡°Leave it.¡± There was something strong in his voice, firm. ¡°Boss will deal with it.¡±


    He pulled the door handle down and a soft click filled the air. Melmarc suddenly realized how quiet everyone had been.


    Naymond¡¯s expression dropped and he gave Melmarc a look. It was almost imploring. Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but feel like the [Sage] was pleading with him to play intercessor.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t mind. Jude had already been punished, he would not be punished for what he had already been punished for.


    Saxi pushed the door and walked in.


    ¡­


    David stood calmly in the room. It was a large bedroom, and it was a mess. The bed was overturned as if there had been a fight once upon a time before it had been abandoned. Lisa stood idly at the corner, watching the only entrance to the room.


    She¡¯d been relaying the mental conversations they¡¯d been having. It was a decision he¡¯d made to reduce the stress on her mana usage that came with being connected to his mind. It was a secret the others didn¡¯t know about simply because they didn¡¯t need to know about it.


    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± Lisa said. She stood up straighter, took on a military alertness.


    David nodded. ¡°I know.¡±


    [A Sapient Being has been detected within close proximity. Prepare to make contact.]


    David hoped it wasn¡¯t a problem. They could¡¯ve brought back someone they shouldn¡¯t have. Caldath, after all, was still yet to be found. They didn¡¯t know what he looked like or who he was. For all they knew, he could be around or not.


    ¡°Is there anyone else with them?¡± he asked.


    The door handle turned.


    ¡°Just the group they spoke off.¡± Lisa paused. ¡°There seems to be an issue. One of the Delvers with them seems to have done something to Mel.¡±


    David clenched his teeth. ¡°What did he do?¡±


    ¡°No one has said,¡± Lisa answered. ¡°Deoti seems to be taking matters into her hands.¡±


    David wasn¡¯t surprised. Deoti had always had a soft spot for Melmarc. For good reason, too. ¡°Let her.¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Lisa looked surprised. ¡°Mel¡¯s stopping her.¡±


    That made David pause. ¡°Stopping her how?¡±


    ¡°He says the Delver has been punished,¡± Lisa said. ¡°But he¡¯s unwilling to say what happened.¡±


    That was surprising, Melmarc would request leniency in certain situations but he wasn¡¯t one to interfere in the affairs of adults, even if he was a part of it somehow. He let the adults talk.


    ¡°Tell her to stand down.¡±


    Lisa turned to him. ¡°Really?¡±


    David said nothing. He merely returned her look.


    Lisa nodded. ¡°Yes, Boss.¡±


    A moment later, the door opened and Saxi stepped in.


    The prisoner of the Oath of War walked in after. He met David¡¯s eyes and cowered as he always did. David didn¡¯t know why he cowered. Even the [Sage] didn¡¯t know why he himself continued to cower. Even now, after years of earning his place in their world ever since his protection had been sent into limbo.


    David felt a slow surge of annoyance. Naymondeel had tried to take advantage of some section of the Law of Bloodline. It angered David.


    Kill him.


    David kept the frown from his face.


    Bleed him. He wishes to be tricky. Tricks can save or crush you. Remind him that it can crush him.


    David focused on the next man to enter. He was a Delver with a bruise on the side of his face.


    Take his pride.


    ¡°Naymondeel Art Hitchcock,¡± David said simply.


    Naymond stood at attention. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Kneel.¡±


    One of the Delvers that entered turned completely shocked. Naymond dropped to his knees without question.


    David said nothing else. The Delver looked from the [Sage] to David, then back. While he did, Saxi walked towards David.


    ¡°We¡¯re back,¡± he said simply. His timidity was slight, nothing like Naymond¡¯s cowering. David knew why. He was still new to the group. New to this. He probably had the man feeling disturbed.


    David nodded in greeting.


    When Deoti walked in, she wore a frown. It turned to a simple smile when she saw him. It was how she often greeted him. He didn¡¯t know why. And since it wasn¡¯t causing issues, there were no issues.


    Melmarc walked in last.


    David paid attention when he did. His son had grown perhaps three inches in height. His hair was rough, unruly. Dark.


    He looked healthy in the shirt he wore. David knew he¡¯d changed it recently because his pants were a mess, torn at different angles. His shoes were a mess. David could see his smallest toe through a hole in one of the shoes.


    He recognized the shoe. His wife had always hated the shoe because it wasn¡¯t an original brand. In contrast, Melmarc liked it because it was fine.


    My wife will be pleased to see it now, David thought.


    Melmarc walked slowly, his steps taking their time. Each one seemed purposeful, intentional.


    He walks differently now, he observed as he watched Melmarc¡¯s eyes take in the room even as they remained on him.


    From what David knew about Melmarc¡¯s ¡®defense classes¡¯, the one his wife had enrolled all his children into, their instructor complained that Melmarc was hesitant to violence. David had seen it, too.


    Most people didn¡¯t see it properly. They saw Melmarc¡¯s hesitance to violence and mistook it for incapability. No, David¡¯s second son was not incapable of violence, he was hesitant to it. David didn¡¯t know why, but Ark knew.


    And that was enough.


    But Melmarc was not the same boy. The boy walking up to him didn¡¯t look hesitant to violence. In fact, in a way, he looked like he was preparing to walk with it.


    What did you go through?


    He remembered what Lisa had told him and a thought came to him. The Delver Deoti had been angry with had been punished.


    Did he punish him, himself? Why?


    Slowly, David¡¯s mind grew muffled. Melmarc was standing in front of him, looking at him. His gaze that had once been simple, curious, was now piercing. He looked as if he was trying to figure him out.


    Something was off. Naymond had tried to make Melmarc his commanding officer. With the Law of Bloodline, there was no knowledge of if it would work. There were speculations of two Oaths birthing a child with possibilities of possessing traits.


    But that would be beyond a stretch.


    He could¡¯ve been calling a--


    Return, claim the orb of Caldath and leave.


    David frowned as his mind ran away from him. He reeled it back in. He wasn¡¯t a magical class. The Orb of Caldath would be of no use to him.


    Melmarc, he told himself. Focus.


    So he did.


    Still, he didn¡¯t know what to do. He was Melmarc¡¯s father. But he was here by the capacity of an Oath. But he was a father¡­


    An Oath¡­ A commander¡­ A murderer¡­ A slayer of A Demi-god¡­ A tool of his world¡­ A¡ª


    He reeled his own thoughts back in. In front of him, Melmarc seemed to be completely focused on him now. Watching. Waiting.


    Something about it made Madness feel like he should be intimidated even though he wasn¡¯t. It was a strange feeling to have in the presence of your own child. In the end, he chose to act in a manner that was non-threatening.


    Why?


    Because. There was nothing more to it than that.


    David released a sigh and finally made his move.


    He and Melmarc moved to sit down at the same time. None of them hesitated. Before long they were seated, looking a each other.


    David remained unsure. He didn¡¯t like being unsure around his family. And this happened at certain times. Times when his emotions rose where times when his control slipped.


    Melmarc broke the silence with a small smile. ¡°Hi, dad.¡±


    David let out a long shaky breath he hadn¡¯t known he was holding. His throat grew dry, choked. Words failed him. He didn¡¯t have a response.


    To his amazement, David''s eyes grew wet. He¡¯d almost lost his child. His child had been placed in a position where the contract he and his wife had made with Dorthna had not been able to protect him.


    His child¡¯s life had been risked once more and where had he been. Out there being an Oath. Taking care of his world.


    David met Melmarc¡¯s gaze and held it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m late.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes softened and he shook his head. ¡°No, dad. You¡¯re right on time.¡±


    His children had always known what kind of man he was and his wife had always been sure of it. So in the practical manner of being understanding that Melmarc had often shown, he initiated contact first, in a manner that wasn¡¯t too much.


    He held his hand out for a handshake.


    One thing did bother David, though. And if he was being honest, it wasn¡¯t bothering him, it was bothering his Oath.


    Why, he thought as he shook Melmarc¡¯s hand, did he sit down?


    Madness¡¯ interface lit up in front of him.


    [You have made contact with a Sapient Being]


    ¡­


    [The Oath of Madness has made contact with the first Sapient Being of your world]


    [Congratulations! Your world has a Representative.]


    [You have met your August Intruder]


    An indicator appeared over Melmarc¡¯s head. It looked as if it was written in white translucent flame.


    [August Intruder]


    This was going to be a problem.


    ¡­


    This was the third report Chetam was reading in the last thirty minutes. With fifty pages it was unnecessary. But the matters it contained were not things to be delegated. They were delicate. One of them spoke of how an Oath had gone against their government.


    He laughed. When would the governments of the world understand that Oaths worked with them out of kindness not necessity? The Oaths did not need them to operate. They worked with them simply because it made their jobs easier.


    Chetam placed the report, half-way through it, on his table. Perhaps it was time to renegotiate the agreements the Oaths had with the governments of the different countries. They were beginning to overestimate their value.


    The Delver training program that the Oaths were establishing in the Gifted schools of different countries, specific for truly unique Gifted was a start to the Oaths preparing the world for what was to come. It had taken them a while but they had finally succeeded in establishing it in at least ten countries on all the occupied continents.


    The reoccurring appearances of players had finally led them to understanding that they were running out of time. It had been the thing to finally bring the Oaths to an agreement, a rare happening. Not since Madness and War had fallen in love.


    Chetam pinched the bridge of his nose. They still had time. They could prepare the world. It had been his idea from the beginning and he expected to see it to the end. As much as some Oaths believed in their own hubris, they could not fight alone.


    He was about to go back to his reading when his interface popped up in front of him.


    [The Oath of Madness has made contact with the first Sapient Being of your world]


    [Congratulations! Your world has a Representative.]


    [Oath of Inevitability, your world has gained its August Intruder]


    Inevitability smiled. It was a bitter smile. A sad smile. The notification was a problem. But this would expedite the process. If he was seeing this, then it meant that every Oath alive was seeing it too. And regardless of whatever was happening, they would know one thing.


    Their world had run out of time.


    ¡­


    Dorthna sat with legs crossed in the living room. He sipped hot water from a mug. In front of him the television played some random piece of information. On the chair to his side, Ark sat a worried hand caressing the top of his demon¡¯s scale.


    He had been terribly worried since coming back from his mentorship program and Dorthna couldn¡¯t blame him. Ark was very protective of Melmarc and right now he knew nothing of where he was or what had happened to him and why he wasn¡¯t home yet.


    [The Oath of Madness has made contact with the first Sapient Being of this world]


    [This world has a Representative.]


    [????, this world has gained its August Intruder]


    Dorthna smiled. It was the first truly genuine smile that had touched his lips in far too many years.


    Between the arrival of a [Demon King] and the rise of an [August Intruder] on this world, things were about to start changing.


    Dorthna was happy. Truly happy.


    ¡­


    Ark wasn¡¯t sure what he was looking at but it worried Spitfire greatly. The demon had grown very alert on his laps and was staring at the same interface that had appeared in front of them.


    [The Oath of Madness has made contact with the first Sapient Being of this world]


    [Congratulations! This world has a Representative.]


    [Demon King, this world has gained its August Intruder]


    Ark had no idea what any of it meant, but Spitfire seemed to.


    And the feeling he got from it was nothing but excitement.


    ¡­


    [The Oath of Madness has made contact with the first Sapient Being of your world]


    [Congratulations! Your world has a Representative.]


    [Oath of Shield your world has gained its August Intruder]


    Ruth paled when she was done reading the notification.


    She had royally fucked up making an enemy of Madness. If the other Oaths were seeing this, then none of them would stand to support her in this disagreement she was having with Madness.


    Not when he had gone off world and finally found the [August Intruder].


    She ran a hand through her hair only to pause and bring her hand in front of her. It shook terribly.


    The Oath of Shield was afraid.


    ¡­


    Out in a world where nothing was sacred, a creature from a line of blood older than time reached a massive claw and tore a hole in existence.


    It created an injury in a place far far away.


    In a world unimportant, a portal opened.


    This creature was not done searching for its creation.

 SEVENTY-SIX: Responsibility

    Melmarc stared at his father. They were both seated, opposite each other.


    He had seen his father and just known that the man was unsure. He didn¡¯t have the foggiest idea of how he¡¯d known it. Maybe he knew his father well enough. Maybe he¡¯d simply assumed that a father would be unsure in his situation. Maybe he assumed his father would be unsure because he was unsure.


    In summary of the truth, he didn¡¯t know. And ¡®dissonant¡¯ agreed.


    They were done shaking hands and his father was staring at the space between them. He¡¯d been doing so since their hands had met. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure why, but he knew the reason he was looking at his father.


    He was doing his best to ignore the notification staring at him.


    [You have met your first Oath]


    [You have met your Oath of Madness]


    For some reason, he wasn¡¯t sure if his interface was telling him that he¡¯d met his first Oath simply because he was meeting his first Oath or if it put it that way to imply his possession of the Oath.


    It worried him a little bit. As for his father, there was a very thoughtful expression on his face. A deep one Melmarc hadn¡¯t seen since the attack.


    So he allowed him think. He allowed the Oath of Madness arrange his thoughts. As a child he¡¯d learned that his father wasn¡¯t one for physical contact not because he didn¡¯t like it but because he had too much on his mind.


    As a child it had simply been, like a law of nature. The way you woke up in the morning and never asked why you wake up in the morning. Or you lived in a house simply because you lived in a house. Or there was electricity simply because there was electricity.


    In the Lockwood house, the father always had a lot on his mind simply because he always had a lot on his mind. And Uncle Dorthna was always around when the parents were not because he was always around when the parents were not.


    With his father Melmarc knew that everything came with strides. Saxi, Deoti and Lisa knew as well because they hadn¡¯t said anything. Lisa hadn¡¯t even done her usual bit of greeting him as if he was a very hospitable host.


    It was a while before his father did anything. He let out a simple sigh that seemed slightly exhausted to Melmarc and said, ¡°Congratulations on your class.¡±


    Melmarc smiled. ¡°Thanks, dad.¡±


    ¡°Was your Uncle Dorthna helpful when you got it?¡±


    Thinking back on it put a different kind of smile on Melmarc¡¯s face. Uncle Dorthna had worked him until he¡¯d experienced mana fatigue. But now that he thought about it, Uncle Dorthna had trained Ark but had simply made him use his skills until he was tired of using them.


    If he was being honest, Uncle Dorthna had simply been present.


    ¡°Delano was nice enough to help more,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Oh.¡± His father¡¯s eyes turned down. He was thinking. ¡°And the other one?¡± He made a gesture, raised a hand up to his ear. ¡°The one that¡¯s almost my height.¡±


    ¡°Eroms?¡±


    His father nodded. ¡°Eroms. Did he help?¡±


    Melmarc thought of it. ¡°He was present. Uncle Dorthna seemed more interested in him, though.¡±


    His father didn¡¯t look surprised. ¡°He has a class, too.¡±


    ¡°He does,¡± Melmarc confirmed.


    ¡°Not surprised. Your uncle has no interest in those without a class.¡±


    Melmarc thought back to it and wasn¡¯t sure he could see it. Uncle Dorthna had always shown interest in all of them. He was free and jovial when he had to be. He took trash from them simply because he could, and rarely ever told them no if it was a request their parents would say yes to.


    Melmarc could still remember the conversation he¡¯d had with his uncle the night Ark had gotten his class. The night Melmarc had been sad about it. There had been an odd touch to his voice when he¡¯d told Melmarc that he was sad for himself and not his brother, that he was human.


    It had been about a month ago.


    Yet it feels like a life time.


    ¡°How¡¯s Ark?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°I do not know,¡± his father answered. ¡°I returned from work and came straight for you. But I know that he is fine. He wrestled¡­ an elephant? I believe that is what your uncle said.¡±


    Melmarc chuckled. ¡°He suplexed a bull.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like something he would do. Try not to tell Ninra. She will worry.¡± A wisp of a smile touched his father¡¯s lips.


    ¡°Try not to tell mum,¡± Melmarc returned. ¡°She¡¯ll be too excited.¡±


    ¡°She will,¡± his father agreed. ¡°Always so happy with your brother¡¯s strength. I have always been glad for that. A parent should like their child as their child and as a person.¡± His eyes took on a distant look. ¡°At least that¡¯s what your uncle always said.¡±


    ¡°Do you know how Uncle D is?¡± Melmarc asked, moving the conversation on, enjoying the rarity of it. ¡°Is he fine? Do they know?¡±


    ¡°Only your uncle knows. But he¡¯s fine. It takes a lot to bother him. A lot.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc looked around, took in the room and its occupants. ¡°Did everyone come?¡±


    His father nodded. ¡°The team is complete. I have the odd feeling that they would not have it any other way.¡± His eyes moved away from Melmarc for the first time and settled on someone else for only a moment. ¡°Except Saxi. But I cannot say I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Saxi chuckled nervously. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t miss this for the world.¡±


    Dissonant.


    His father¡¯s eyes stayed on the Delver a little longer. A second or two longer.


    ¡°Sorry, Boss,¡± Saxi apologized.


    Melmarc turned to look at him in time to catch Deoti cuff him behind the head. It was a simple admonishment of a peer from what he could see, and he caught Saxi mutter an apology to her, too.


    They seemed at ease.


    ¡°He seems fun,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°Troublesome,¡± was his father¡¯s response. ¡°He still makes mistakes but nothing grave. He can be reliable.¡±


    Melmarc raised a brow. ¡°Are complimenting people now, dad?¡±


    ¡°Your mother said good truths motivate people.¡±


    ¡°And bad truths?¡±


    His father shook his head. It was an action of uncertainty. ¡°I still do not understand that one very well. ¡°She says that how you pass it is what matters.¡±


    It was like talking to a man who was doing his best to understand why you put so much interest in trivial matters. Right now, Melmarc felt as if he was watching a father not pretend to be excited about the grasshopper his child had taken an interest in but try to understand why specifically his child had taken an interest in it.


    ¡°And how do you pass bad truths?¡± he asked simply for the sake of asking. Maybe he was enjoying the sight of his father trying a little too much.


    His father paused, seemed to give it some thought. Oddly enough, Melmarc knew when thoughts failed his father. He also knew when he tried again.


    ¡°Deoti,¡± his father said.


    ¡°Yes, Boss.¡±


    ¡°Melmarc is now a Gifted that has survived for more than a week in a portal. He is not simply a child.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss.¡±


    His father¡¯s attention focused on him. ¡°Like that.¡±


    That was all he had. Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised. Words were his father¡¯s sentences and sentences were his father¡¯s paragraphs. And where people wrote an essay, his father would rather demonstrate.


    Melmarc nodded. It was apt enough.


    ¡°Is mom fine?¡± he asked. ¡°Ninra?¡±


    ¡°Your mother was working when I came here,¡± his father answered, choosing his words simply. ¡°Ninra is experiencing heartbreak. Your Uncle Dorthna keeps tabs on her. I believe she would not want the family to know.¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    That was sad. Melmarc didn¡¯t know a lot about his sister¡¯s love life. But the one thing he knew was that she was the kind to hold onto her feelings for someone until she was sure of them. But when she loved, she loved recklessly. With a love that made the oceans jealous and blotted out stars on a night too bright. At least, that was how Delano had described it.


    It was a bit much and biased since it was coming from Delano, but it wasn¡¯t too grand an exaggeration, just too poetic. Ninra wasn¡¯t one to pretend and she loved with everything she had. Melmarc still remembered meeting one of her boyfriends once.


    It had been gross to see her all too loving and caring with none of the interspersed violence she reserved for him, Ark and Uncle Dorthna.


    Normally, he would say that she would be fine. But that was once upon a time¡ªa time when normally for him was normal for everyone. He didn¡¯t have much of a luxury in that anymore.


    So, instead, he said, ¡°Will she be fine?¡±


    ¡°I do not have the slightest idea,¡± his father answered. ¡°Your mother will answer that better.¡±


    Melmarc could agree with that. For now, he wondered what else they had to talk about. He¡¯d covered the basics about the family.


    That can¡¯t be it, right?


    He didn¡¯t have a lot of these conversations with his dad, and he hadn¡¯t seen him in a while. Inside a portal that was out to kill them and on a path to potentially steal an orb and kill a Demi-god¡ªwhich seemed more likely now that his dad was here¡ªit seemed like a childish thing to want to spend more time together.


    You¡¯re sixteen, he reminded himself. You¡¯re arguably still a child.


    He held onto that and the fact that his mind did not charge him with dissonance and moved forward. Melmarc would use all the time he could find. Childish or not, he wanted this break.


    ¡°How¡¯s work?¡±


    His father tilted his head slightly to the side. ¡°You always hated it when your mother and I asked how school was. Your brother said it was because it was a poor attempt at small talk.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°It is. So how¡¯s work?¡±


    ¡°Work was fine.¡±


    ¡°Was?¡±


    ¡°There was an altercation.¡± His father didn¡¯t look bothered. ¡°I had an important place to be and a less important person tried to stand in my way to do it and make me do a thing that was less important to me.¡±


    Melmarc assumed the important place his father had to be was where he was right now. ¡°And how did it lead to an altercation?¡±


    ¡°My colleague would not move. And she would not let me move. So I found a way to move.¡± His father paused. ¡°I will have to return when we are done here.¡±


    ¡°To work?¡±


    ¡°To conclude my altercation with her.¡±


    That was not a good thing. From what Melmarc knew, his father could be set quite vehemently in his ways. It did not matter if it was going to bed early or eating toast with butter not jam. Or keeping the volume at a set level when everyone was more focused on leaving the house.


    At times like that, his mother was often the one to dissuade him. Melmarc had a feeling he would not be able to.


    Melmarc thought of what else to talk about. Work, apparently, had ended up being a dead end conversation. His father had kept his words simple and precise. Details about the altercation would be nice, but it seemed this was all he was supposed to get. Prying any further would be¡­ well¡­ prying.


    ¡°How was your mentorship program?¡± His father asked suddenly. ¡°Before this.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t complain. ¡°Mostly boring. A spent a good deal of time arranging other people¡¯s offices for reasons I still don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°I met Naymond.¡± He gestured back at the [Sage] who was currently still kneeling and slightly pale. ¡°I¡¯m sure you already know him. He¡¯s eccentric and a little weird. But I think his heart¡¯s in the right place. Sometimes.¡±


    This was normally where Naymond would toss in one quip or the other. He did not. Even an S-rank [Mage] like Deoti hadn¡¯t been able to inspire complete silence from him.


    He must really be scared of dad.


    ¡°I am aware of him,¡± his father said simply. ¡°He worked with your mother. He was tasked with the job of a negotiator of sorts in her team. His role was to help her reach¡­ acceptable terms with trying others.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± That explained the negotiating he¡¯d done when Melmarc had wanted Jude punished. ¡°You don¡¯t like him.¡±


    His father made a sound that wasn¡¯t necessarily an agreement or a disagreement.


    ¡°Sometimes he plays mediator,¡± he said simply. ¡°Helping your mother¡¯s team and mine reach an amiable compromise. He is too¡­ dissonant.¡±


    For some reason, the word rang too loudly to Melmarc. Maybe it was [Optimum Existence]. Right now he had an almost complete certainty that he¡¯d gotten the dissonance thing from his father.


    But what do lies have to do with madness? It was a question he really wanted to ask but knew that he wasn¡¯t supposed to. Not with Clinton and his team present.


    Not lies, he corrected himself. Dissonance.


    Lies were intents. If someone said the sky was brown because they believed the sky was brown, it wasn¡¯t a lie. It was wrong, but not a lie. Dissonance was not this. Although, a similar principle would apply.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s necessarily a bad person,¡± Melmarc said gently. ¡°Maybe not trust worthy,¡± he added, remembering Naymond was a Player, a conversation that would need to be addressed. ¡°But not bad. If you don¡¯t mind me asking, why is he kneeling down?¡±


    ¡°Because he has to.¡± The words came out as a statement of fact. ¡°It is safer for him¡­ in the long run.¡±


    ¡°Is he being punished?¡± Melmarc asked. He was trying to fish out what he could. If dissonance was from his father, where was the urge to punish from?


    His father shook his head. ¡°I have never been too good at choosing punishments. My hand is too heavy. Your mother was always better at that.¡±


    That didn¡¯t really give Melmarc much to go on. Did that mean that his mother had the overwhelming urge to punish or that she just understood people better and was a better judge of a befitting punishment?


    Growing up she had always been the one in charge of punishing them. The times Ark got into fights for good reasons or not. When Ninra had gone through her sneaking out phase. When Melmarc nagged Ark too much and Ark reported. When Ark was a little too daring and got Melmarc roped into it.


    That didn¡¯t give Melmarc much to go on. Melmarc didn¡¯t touch the subject, though. He let it be.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell Saxi that you are his commanding officer,¡± his father said after a while. ¡°Correct?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And you also didn¡¯t tell him that you were not.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Is it really important that I say I¡¯m not?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know enough about this,¡± his father admitted. ¡°Your mother was his commanding officer due to certain Gifted reasons. She was the one in charge of him.¡±


    ¡°Is that why Saxi said he needs official permission to change stewardship?¡± he asked. ¡°Mom has to be around?¡±


    ¡°Not really. Saxi only said that because he didn¡¯t know you had official¡­¡± his father paused. ¡°Do you have official permission?¡±


    Melmarc nodded very slowly, unsure of what was going to happen next.


    His father suddenly seemed tired. ¡°Do you want to assume stewardship of him?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure. If he was being honest, it sounded like too much responsibility. It wasn¡¯t because of who Naymond was. Personally, he believed that the best way to deal with Naymond was to simply point him in a direction and keep him away from people with simple lives. Besides that, just give him a list of things not to do and accept what comes next.


    Now that he thought of it, that also sounded like a heavy responsibility to bear. Regardless, the main reason it felt too big for him was because the responsibility had shown up on his interface. Since entering the portal, he¡¯d been learning things about being Gifted that he¡¯d never heard of before.


    His father waited patiently as Melmarc thought about it. In the end, Melmarc decided that it was truly too large a responsibility for him.


    ¡°Do I have to make a decision now?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No,¡± his father answered. ¡°You can ignore it forever. Whatever detriments come from it will be his burden to bear.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure of how he felt about letting Naymond bear the burden after taking a risk on him.


    Not a risk. He was simply trying to use you. He was not taking a risk on you. Not like that.


    ¡°And what happens if I reject his request?¡±


    ¡°He loses every and all protection he is currently under.¡±


    Melmarc looked back at Naymond. The [Sage] didn¡¯t meet his eyes.


    He looked back at his father. ¡°Are they that important?¡±


    His father nodded.


    ¡°How important?¡±


    ¡°Without them, he could¡­¡± his father paused, frowned. ¡°Lisa, is this proper?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss,¡± she answered from where she was standing.


    Melmarc took the opportunity to wave at her. ¡°Hi, aunt Lisa.¡±


    She waved back with a smile. ¡°Hi, Mel. You¡¯re a big boy now. Important, too.¡±


    He returned her smile before returning his attention to his father.


    ¡°Without them,¡± his father resumed, ¡°he could die. There are currently a few people who would actively hunt him down the moment the protections are gone.¡±


    That was¡­ terrifying to think about. But Melmarc understood it. Naymond was a player. As such, he was an enemy, an Intruder. You did not allow the enemy walk about in your territory unsupervised.


    ¡°And what if I accept?¡±


    His father shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know the full scope of the responsibility you will bear. That was your mother¡¯s purview. What I do know is that you will have to give him quests that he will have to complete.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc scratched his jaw. That was definitely responsibility and authority. ¡°And the reward? Does he get rewards?¡±


    ¡°On successful completion within the given criteria. Yes. Punishment for failures as well.¡±


    ¡°And what serves as a reward or a punishment?¡±


    ¡°That I do not know,¡± his father answered. ¡°We will have to ask your mother. She should still remember.¡±


    ¡°Can we ask her how to do it, too?¡±


    ¡°We can.¡± His father studied him. ¡°You are considering it, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I am.¡±


    A sigh left his father¡¯s lips. ¡°I guess that is one way to expand your influence. I will not advice it, but that is the father speaking.¡±


    ¡°And what is the Delver saying?¡± Melmarc asked, pleased to be having a conversation that flowed with his father even if it sounded more business than family.


    ¡°You can never have too much influence,¡± his father answered.


    Melmarc paused, knowing what he wanted to say but not sure if he should.


    His father watched him, paid attention to him. ¡°You are becoming dissonant. It is good to come to decisions so that you do not lose yourself to your own ideas.¡±


    Melmarc took a steadying breath and agreed with his father.


    ¡°What,¡± he asked, ¡°is the Oath saying?¡±


    That got a reaction from Saxi, Lisa, Naymond and Deoti. It was nothing verbal, only physical in the way of the surprise and worry on their expressions. On Naymond it was worry and fear.


    Melmarc¡¯s father¡¯s expression did not change or falter. ¡°I see he reason for the dissonance.¡± He remained silent for a while longer before he finally spoke again. ¡°The Oath will say to spread your influence wisely. Only draw those that suit you within your influence. Your mother once said that you only command those deserving of it.¡±


    There was more to this. Melmarc was sure of it now.


    His father simply got up and dusted his hands. ¡°I have a question,¡± he said.


    Melmarc got up, too. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Why did you sit down?¡±


    Telling his father that he¡¯d sat down because his father had sat down was a lie that wasn¡¯t going to fly. So this is what it¡¯s like knowing for a fact that your parents can tell when you¡¯re lying.


    Melmarc went with the truth. ¡°There was too much on my mind.¡±


    His father nodded as if it made perfect sense even though Melmarc had never done anything like that in his life.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to go,¡± his father said. ¡°We¡¯ve run out of time.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss,¡± Lisa, Saxi and Deoti said in unison.


    ¡°We will have to hurry. Naymondeel, you can get up. I will advise that you do not prove yourself to be an inconvenience to my child.¡±


    Everyone moved to action. Naymond got up from his knees and dusted his knees. Melmarc realized that for the duration of the conversation no one had spoken unless when spoken to, directly or indirectly.


    He had sat in a room full of people with his father and had an entire conversation in silence. He would be lying if he said it didn¡¯t feel a certain kind of way. It had felt powerful.


    Like a king and his son in a throne room.


    It was a slippery slope to go down and Melmarc remembered something Naymond had once told him about how he¡¯d expected Melmarc of all people to not be drawn to the allure of power, to not let it get to his head.


    As much as he would¡¯ve loved to say he wouldn¡¯t let it, all he could say for certain was that he hoped he wouldn¡¯t let it. Having a trait that called him out on his lies and bullshit forced him to reflect on himself more than he normally would.


    ¡°Dad,¡± he said, remembering something when they were ready to leave the room.


    ¡°Yes, son.¡±


    ¡°Deoti cleared out he monsters that were on our way here. Is it possible for us to follow places that haven¡¯t been cleared while we try to clear the portal?¡±


    Everyone else except Naymond looked at him as if he¡¯d lost his mind. His father looked as if he could not be bothered.


    ¡°Will it be of help to you?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Melmarc answered.


    ¡°That makes sense and makes more things make sense,¡± his father said. ¡°Then we shall. Saxi, plot us an alternate path.¡±


    Saxi stared at the air. ¡°How alternate, Boss?¡±


    ¡°Give us a path with the most resistance.¡±

 SEVENTY-SEVEN: Exit

    They had not walked long before Axe had joined them. He¡¯d stepped out of the room, throwing a door open with a kick. Despite his size and his power. The door simply swung open violently, slammed against the wall, and closed back.


    He opened it a second time and walked out with a slight touch of annoyance. He nodded in friendly greeting when he saw Melmarc.


    Despite his size, he was a teddy bear. Or at least that was how David believed his children remembered the tank. He was the one colleague who always greeted Ark and Melmarc with a fist bump. Always. Ninra always got a high five for reasons best known only to Ninra.


    If Axe knew those reasons, he had not shared them, and David had not asked for them.


    Saxi had plotted them a new path as instructed and they had walked it in silence. They avoided rooms with yellow hues around the door. They stepped over dead creatures called [Damned] useless and plentiful.


    Melmarc always had a look of loss whenever they passed them. It was slight but it was there. Like a hungry child walking passed a dropped ice cream they really wanted.


    Now, Saxi had brought them to a stop. The path in front of them, just down the hallway, had a few of the [Damned] jerking about.


    David walked up to the farthest wall and sat casually on the ground. Melmarc moved to sit beside him.


    The others arraigned themselves on the side. His team and the ones sent to save his son. From what David knew, they had been cobbled together in a rush. A poor group. Why they had arranged themselves in a line had nothing to do with him. For all he cared, they could do whatever they wanted as long as it did not get in the way of what his son wanted.


    His team was probably in agreement as well because he had a feeling they had been the ones to cause the arrangement¡ªDeoti most likely.


    Melmarc and David sat and watched the [Damned] jerk about ahead of them.


    ¡°Are they enough?¡± David asked.


    Melmarc was thoughtful for a while. ¡°No.¡±


    David nodded. ¡°We will need more. But we do not have the time.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    David looked at him. ¡°If what I think has happened has happened, we will need to hurry. What is your class and rank?¡±


    ¡°[Faker]. B.¡±


    [Faker] was arguably a difficult class. David knew enough about them, though.


    ¡°Then you will not fight alone.¡± David stared ahead in thought. ¡°For now, do what you have to.¡±


    ¡°Thanks dad.¡±


    Melmarc still smiled often. For that, David remained glad. His time in the portal had shaved some of the child out of him. But he was still a child. David wanted his children to be children until they were not.


    Melmarc got up and started walking forward, down the path. Towards the [Damned]. His shoulders grew slowly alert and he rounded them in slow preparation. His hands opened and closed gently. His shoulders moved slowly with each breath.


    The ¡®self defense¡¯ classes had paid off.


    ¡°Boss?¡± Deoti said.


    David didn¡¯t look away from Melmarc. ¡°Deoti. Saxi. Axe.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss,¡± all three said in unison.


    David¡¯s eyes followed his son as the [Damned] took note of him. To his team present, he had only one word.


    ¡°Go.¡±


    ¡­


    The [Damned] weren¡¯t too much, although they numbered up to ten. At B-rank they gave a number just a little above one hundred [EP]. So if he could kill them, he could get around a thousand [Ep]s. It sounded large. But it wasn¡¯t much when he reasoned his [Optimum Existence]] was still at two percent.


    A few steps sounded behind him and Melmarc looked back. It was a quick glance since the [Damned] now had their attention on him. There was still a significant amount of space between him and them.


    Saxi, Axe, and Deoti stood casually behind him.


    Deoti raised a casual hand. It was a gesture that told him not to worry about them. ¡°Just do your thing, Mel. Your dad just sent us to watch.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think his dad had sent them to watch. And since there was no dissonance so there was a high chance she didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s why Boss sent us,¡± Axe said.


    Saxi shrugged. ¡°Me, too.¡±


    Deoti looked from one of them the other while Melmarc kept his attention on the [Damned].


    ¡°I miss Fendor at times like this,¡± Saxi said. ¡°He¡¯d have the witty line that he can get away with.¡±


    Deoti shot him a glare. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got witty lines, too.¡±


    ¡°Not ones I¡¯ll get away with.¡±


    In front of Melmarc a blue line appeared, trailing from him to a [Damned] behind the first. It was an odd thing to see. It reminded Melmarc that he still had access to Saxi¡¯s skill [Sense of the Survivor].


    Blue means a possible threat. It will attack but there won¡¯t be any severe damage.


    The [Damned] took a pose. One hand was simply a sword blade that extended from its wrist. Its pose placed the blade on a hand raised like a guard in front.


    ¡°Kid¡¯s a [Faker], Deoti,¡± Saxi said. ¡°His class fights best with Gifted around.¡±


    The [Damned] lowered its form. The one in front of it continued walking.


    ¡°They are weak to lightning,¡± Deoti said. ¡°So lightning works. Mel, don¡¯t rush it. Take your time. Learn to use your skills, properly.¡±


    Melmarc heard a crackle behind him. He felt the air against his skin grow charged like the time she had attacked Naymond when they¡¯d met her.


    ¡°Ready, Marc?¡± Axe asked. ¡°Because they are.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Ready.¡±


    The creature burst forward and the blue line turned a bright red.


    ¡°Mel!¡± Deoti called out in worry.


    Melmarc responded.


    [You have used skill Knowledge is Power]


    Mana burst out of Melmarc and the [Damned] shot through the space between them. Melmarc braced for impact. As impervious as he was to damage, he remained not immune to pain. He used his forearm as a shield.


    The tip of the rusted blade slammed into his forearm and he parried the blow. There was no sound from the impact. No clashing of objects. Nothing. The creature¡¯s blade was tossed to the side. Melmarc winced in pain, but he¡¯d been in too much pain in the past few days to succumb to something like this.


    He recovered from the blow first and stepped forward. The [Damned] didn¡¯t hesitate but it was slower. Melmarc drove his foot into its chest. The attack would do no damage, but damage wasn¡¯t what he was going for.


    The [Damned] was sent staggering back. Then it fell into a backward tumble. The sound of its metal sword hand clattering against the floor.


    Melmarc put all his weight behind the kick and sent the [Damned] flying back. Another line appeared. It trailed a path straight for his stomach. Translucent. He moved quickly but was too slow.


    Pain flared in his stomach, and while he would¡¯ve liked to throw the attack back with a forward thrust of his hip, normal people didn¡¯t just thrust forward when the pain of a knife stab was in their stomach. Melmarc fought the urge to fold. He only needed a moment. The pain never lasted.


    The next moment it was gone. He swung a punch at it with all his might. It connected with the creature¡¯s metal helmet. Pain flared in his knuckles and he winced once more.


    The burst of mana was returning to him. The remaining [Damned] were coming too.


    Melmarc rounded his back, tightened it, and set himself into a boxer¡¯s stance. ¡°I¡¯ve got this,¡± he said to the others.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t doubt it for a second,¡± Saxi said with a touch of amusement in his voice.


    Surprisingly, there was no call of dissonance.


    Melmarc heard a grumble from behind him when [Knowledge is Power] came to a conclusion.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +1.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 19.]


    [You have received 10 Potential buffs.]


    [Sense of the Survivor (Mastery 0.02%)]


    The Gifted is aware of the roads leading to their demise.


    [Elemental Magic-Lightning (Mastery 0.00%)]


    The Gifted manipulates the elements of the world around them.


    [World Aegis (Mastery 0.00%)]


    The Gifted possesses a body with a significant defense against attacks.


    [Madness Incarnate (Mastery 15.03%)]


    The Oath Exists in the chaos of madness.


    [Hand of Life (Mastery 100.00%)]


    The Gifted quantifies a target¡¯s health in definable quantity.


    [World of Insight (Mastery 08.63%)]


    The Gifted is aware of their existent present surrounding.


    [Sword of the Immortal (Mastery 02.61%)]


    The Gifted cuts a target at the same strength regardless of health.


    [Soul Damnation (Mastery 0.00%)


    The damned damns their own soul into further damnation through the damnation of their soul by offering their soul to Caldath.


    [Fist of Thunder (Mastery 2.34%)]


    The Gifted wraps their fist in electricity at a mana cost.


    [Stay Away From Me (Mastery 0.56%)]


    The Gifted keeps a target away from their personal space.


    ¡­


    [Buff mastery is scaled based on mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness. Mastery of buff will begin reduction after eight minutes.]


    [Would you like to select a Buff?]


    [Yes/No.]


    [Remaining time: 00:02:59.]


    Melmarc chose [Elemental Magic-Lightning] without hesitation, having heard what Deoti had said. Knowledge of how the skill worked washed through him as he did his best to ignore [Madness Incarnate].


    He had a strong feeling it belonged to his dad.


    Despite the choice of skill, Melmarc did not use [Elemental Magic-Lightning] immediately. Instead, he stepped to the side, hand already moving.


    [You have used Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses 3/4]


    The ring of mana appeared around his wrist. His eyes sharpened as what looked like a dull holographic projection of a dome with an undulating circumference appeared. He slammed the ring of mana into the ground at his feet as a few other [Damned] rushed at him in bursts of speed.


    The ring exploded into a dome of translucent blue, capturing the [Damned] inside with him. Another ring appeared as he twirled his wrist, this one brighter than the last.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses 3/4]


    Melmarc had almost forgotten about the skills refusal to give him an evolution notification. Or even an alternative skill option.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    He felt the weight of it on his hand but didn¡¯t throw the ring of mana. A red indicator dashed at him from outside the dome of [Secrecy]. The moment its body was inside, its attack seemed to taper off. Its speed was gone. Its force and power was no where to be found.


    Melmarc smashed a fist weighted by a ring of mana into its desiccated face. He felt the cracking of bone before he even heard the sound of it. The creature¡¯s face was stopped by his fist but its body shot forward beneath it.


    One of the [Damned[ already downed in his dome of [Secrecy]. Melmarc turned, stepped to the side the way he¡¯d been taught in his boxing classes and threw a right hook straight into its face. There was another crack but no notification of his victory.


    It would take more than a single punch to put them down. Not that he was surprised.


    He twirled his other hand and a second ring appeared.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses 2/4]


    Melmarc stood, facing the group of [Damned] armed with different weapons, some struggling at his feet, within the embrace of [Secrecy], fists raised in a boxer¡¯s stance in constant minute motion.


    A ring of mana encircled the wrist of each fist.


    ¡­


    [You have slain Damned(B)]


    [You have gained EP 127]


    [Total EP 1042]


    Melmarc had a cut on his cheek. It was deep and it stung terribly. Deoti had asked him to take his time, learn his skills. And he was doing exactly that.


    He didn¡¯t know how long he¡¯d fought, but he¡¯d used [Knowledge is Power] four times and had swapped between three different skills. Deoti had been right. Lightning worked best against the [Damned]. They twitched at its touch and staggered as if their brains were disconnected from their bodies.


    But the skill [Elemental Magic-Lightning] was not strong enough to kill them. At least not the mastery he had it at. So most of the fight had been with [Rings of Saturn] wrapped around his wrists.


    The first thing he had learned in his fight was how long he could keep [Rings of Saturn] on his wrists. Two minutes. It took two minutes before his mind started to grow fatigued and his body started to slow and wan. The solution was using the rings, dull as they would finally become. Their effect was also weaker.


    One had literally bounced off a [Damned], ricocheted into some random wall.


    Funny enough, the moment he released them, the fatigue that clouded his mind and body left.


    Then there were the skills. Right now he was working with a tanker skill. [World of Aegis] gave him thick skin. But he¡¯d learned that it wasn¡¯t his skin. Being struck was less painful and he weathered the blows properly.


    His defensive boxing stance supported his size. With raised hands he kept his face protected and rounded his back and hunched his body so that his stomach was also protected.


    If anyone saw him fighting, they would not agree that he was a [Faker]. He did not fight with flare and grace, jumping around and tossing out skills he had stolen from one person or the other. No. He fought like a boxer. Jabs and hooks and weaves and ducks.


    The only thing that identified his class was the occasional adjustments he did to his technique. When he wielded lightning¡ªDeoti¡¯s skill¡ªhe immobilized with it. Electricity went flying with each blow. Then there would be the occasional change of pace were he was fast and precise, using Saxi¡¯s skill [Sense of the Survivor] to evade, which made him seem more like an agility class than anything else.


    Melmarc winced as a halberd struck his raised forearm.


    ¡°Hold it, Marc,¡± Axe said from behind him. ¡°You have to feel the skill go through you.¡±


    Melmarc groaned as metal staff struck him. He felt it bounce off of him. He could feel the pain and the weight of it, but his skin was surviving, withstanding. And Axe was giving out advice.


    Melmarc ducked in time when a sword pierced his defense and almost pierced him. The moment he was out of the way, he rounded the [Damned] in three steps, then ducked out of the way as another struck at him.


    Axe had said he should feel the strength and not shy away from the pain. As easy as it sounded, and with everything Melmarc had been through, it was a different thing to face a sword or halberd head on when he didn¡¯t have [Knowledge is Power] active.


    Rounding the [Damned] gave Melmarc a view of everyone that was watching and not for the first time he saw the look of blatant disbelief on Deoti¡¯s face. With a touch of worry.


    Behind them Melmarc¡¯s father simply watched the battle. Expression empty. He didn¡¯t look it but Melmarc knew he was worrying. He had said that they were running out of time.


    Melmarc used [Secrecy]. A [Damned] dropped beside him like a puppet with its strings cut. Melmarc raised his leg, moved it and a ring of mana appeared around his ankle.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses 1/4]


    He raised his leg over the creature¡¯s head and stomped down on it decisively. With the stacks of the stat effect from his constant use of [Knowledge is Power] and the weight of the ring of pure mana, the moment his leg hit the creature¡¯s head, it shattered.


    Deoti looked away with a grimace.


    [You have slain Damned(B)]


    [You have gained EP 112]


    [Total EP 1154]


    With the same leg, he turned with a high kick and shattered the head of a [Damned] that had stumbled into the reach of [Secrecy]. This was a strategy. A cowardly one, but a strategy nonetheless. He could stack the effects of [Knowledge is Power] until there was no stacks left and walk into a fight.


    Once that was done, he only needed to throw hands and legs with [Rings of Saturn] active. It wasn¡¯t necessarily a strategy that would work in any scenario, but it seemed to be working here.


    [You have slain Damned(B)]


    [You have gained EP 102]


    [Total EP 1256]


    From where he was seated, Melmarc¡¯s father finally got up. He walked up to Deoti, Saxi and Axe but said nothing. He watched, standing, waiting.


    Beside him Axe gave off a slight chuckle. ¡°Fights like his mum, doesn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°Precise, accurate.¡± Deoti¡¯s expression didn¡¯t look happy. ¡°Detached.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s father said nothing as [Secrecy] deactivated and Melmarc used [Knowledge is Power]. He caught a [Damned] that had dashed at him like a battering ram and threw it to the side. He couldn¡¯t inflict damage, but he could put the creature in a position that had something else inflict damage on it.


    ¡°When I found him,¡± Saxi said softly, ¡°he was fighting like you.¡±


    To that, Melmarc¡¯s father nodded. ¡°An imitation. Incomplete.¡±


    They turned to look at him but said nothing. It seemed as if there was nothing to say.


    By the time Melmarc was done with the remaining [Damned], his father¡¯s expression had shifted to something thoughtful. It was minute but it was there, something most people who didn¡¯t know him would not see.


    Melmarc stood in a sea of [Damned] corpses. His chest heaved slowly. He wasn¡¯t tired, but he¡¯d used up a lot of mana, which was surprising because this was the first time it was happening since coming to the portal.


    Is it because they are S-ranks? He wondered.


    Did it take more out of him to use an S-rank skill? A brief thought told him that he hadn¡¯t used one before. Maybe it was how long you kept [Rings of Saturn]?


    His father watched him a little longer before finally speaking.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go to the Orb.¡±


    It was a simple statement that carried far too much weight. Clinton tensed and Jude paled. Melmarc could understand why Jude had grown pale but not why Clinton had tensed up. Now that he thought about it, the rest of the team seemed a little too tense.


    Axe came to stand beside Melmarc. ¡°It must¡¯ve been a lot to deal with.¡±


    ¡°What was?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The skills.¡± Axe took a look at the cut on his cheek. It wasn¡¯t the only one he had. ¡°S-rank skills carry a heavy requirement to use. I think your dad wanted to see how much you could pull from us since you¡¯re a B-rank.¡±


    Is that what affects the mastery?


    Melmarc had never thought of it that way. He¡¯d just always assumed it was strictly compatibility based. But now that he thought about it again, those with the [Faker] class always had skills that they could not copy. Strength based classes were tricky.


    But he¡¯d just copied a [Mage] which was a mana-based class, a tank¡ªhe couldn¡¯t remember Axe¡¯s class¡ªand a [Guide] which was a¡­


    The [Guide] class was tricky. They were known to hover between agility-based and mana-based. Melmarc decided that Saxi¡¯s was mana-based.


    Deoti joined him and Axe in record time. There was no smile on her face, only worry. And she refused to meet Melmarc¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯re a mess.¡± She raised a hand to his cheek. Her voice was low, words muttered. ¡°You should be more careful. It¡¯s called duck and weave for a reason. Duck. And weave.¡±


    Her fingers didn¡¯t twirl in a flair of actions. Instead, the effect of her skill simple moved from her fingers to his cheeks. Melmarc felt the warm touch as his cheek healed. It took less than a second before his cheek was completely healed.


    Deoti touched his cheek softly, a caring aunty. Melmarc could feel it trembling against his cheek.


    ¡°Aunt Deo¡ª¡±


    She took her hand from his face and Melmarc kept quiet. She moved on to a hole in his thigh. He¡¯d taken a blow from a [Damned] with a Morningstar. One of the spikes had caught him the wrong way. ¡°Precise but reckless. You need more training.¡±


    Melmarc said nothing. He was sixteen, barely two months old as a Gifted. And this was his first portal, unplanned and unsanctioned. Of course he still needed training. She was telling him things that anyone knew.


    Personally, Melmarc thought he¡¯d done fine against them. He¡¯d chosen boxing because it was always good to pick a style of fighting when you had time to prepare yourself. His self defense instructor always said that only masters and fools fought with freestyle when they had the time to pick a fighting style.


    Melmarc was not a master, and he didn¡¯t like to think of himself as a fool.


    Years in self defense class and you never quote master John. Melmarc fought back a sigh. This is a Delver¡¯s life.


    Deoti was done with the injury on his leg. The hole closed up, replaced by pink flesh that slowly aged into a color that was the same with the rest of his skin.


    She gave him another glance. Her eyes took him in, checking for injuries. Melmarc stood there, quiet.


    He stood there in silence as she picked out even the most minute scratches on him. No one said anything. Axe was silent, so was Saxi. Even Melmarc¡¯s dad, though that wasn¡¯t very surprising.


    When Deoti was done with him, she gave Melmarc a kind pat on the cheek and he caught the moisture in her eyes before she turned away.


    He looked to Axe for help when Deoti had returned to Saxi¡¯s side. She stood there, back turned to him.


    ¡°Did I do something?¡± he asked Axe.


    Axe gave him a gentle smile. ¡°Don¡¯t hold it against her, Marc.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t hold what against her?¡±


    ¡°She never wanted you to become a Gifted. She meant well. You were her good boy, and her experience with Delvers is that none are good.¡±


    That was an odd way to think. ¡°But she¡¯s a Delver. You guys are Delvers.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯ve done things we are not proud of.¡± Axe sighed. ¡°Being Gifted is special. Being a Delver is different. If you do it long enough, you¡¯ll get to know what I¡¯m talking about.¡±


    ¡°So she thinks I¡¯ll change, too?¡±


    Axe placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I will be honest with you, Marc. You and Ninra were supposed to be the best of us. None of us have kids so we saw you three as our own. Deoti wanted you to live a long good life. A¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Melmarc¡¯s father¡¯s voice was simple. There was no authority or power in it yet it allowed no challenge.


    Axe fell silent. He patted Melmarc once before taking his hand from his shoulder before stepping aside.


    Melmarc¡¯s father came to stand in front of him.


    ¡°Do not hold it against them,¡± he said calmly. ¡°They mean well.¡±


    Melmarc looked past his father. Deoti still had her back to him but it looked like she was cleaning tears from her eyes the way her arms moved.


    His father looked back at her. ¡°She had hoped.¡±


    Melmarc found himself wondering how she would¡¯ve reacted if he was the one that had ended up getting the [Demon King] class.


    ¡°Let us go,¡± his father said, turning. ¡°The Orb is not far.¡±


    ¡­


    Surprisingly, the path to the orb was not long. Melmarc¡¯s father led not Saxi. They moved through three rooms, followed two hallways before they got to their destination.


    It was a door with an orange hue and they met Fendor squatted in front of the door, hands messing around with it. Melmarc¡¯s father and the others came to a stop in front of it.


    ¡°Have you found a way?¡± Melmarc¡¯s father asked.


    Fendor turned and looked up. He was just the way Melmarc remembered. Squared jaw. Dimpled cheeks. A smile that said he was getting older but he wasn¡¯t ready to forget how to be a child.


    ¡°No luck, Boss,¡± he answered. ¡°Oh, hey, Mel. Did you make Deoti cry.¡±


    Deoti kicked him in the shin and he hopped away.


    Clinton and his team were still yet to say anything. They¡¯d been silent as if intimidated. Naymond, too.


    Melmarc wondered if this was a thing with his father¡¯s team or just what the relationship between S-ranks and lower ranks were. He¡¯d heard of the gap between them even socially, but he didn¡¯t know they were this separated.


    ¡°Anyway.¡± Fendor placed a hand against the door and a small mark lit up on the back of his hand. It was a soft and gentle blue with a touch of green. ¡°Still locked out.¡±


    Fendor looked at Clinton and his team and waved. ¡°Hi.¡±


    They looked confused. In the end, they replied with a nod.


    ¡°Any of you ever try going through one of these colored doors?¡± he asked as if they had given him perfectly reasonable responses.


    ¡°Colored door?¡± Claire asked with a touch of a stutter.


    Fendor gave her a boyish grin. ¡°Yep. You guys don¡¯t see it?¡±


    Claire shook her head.


    ¡°May I?¡± Fendor held a hand out to her, palm up.


    Claire hesitated but placed her hand in his.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Fendor pulled her forward and towards the door. ¡°Right here, love.¡±


    Deoti scowled. ¡°Fen.¡±


    Fendor dropped Claire¡¯s hand as if it had burnt him. ¡°Anyway, Delver who¡¯s name I don¡¯t know. Try opening the door.¡±


    Confused, Claire took the handle in her hand and turned. There was a soft click from the door and it opened inwards.


    In Melmarc¡¯s eyes, the orange hue remained. If they can¡¯t go through it, can I?


    Claire looked back and Fendor gestured her forward with a smile. Melmarc saw her visibly gulp.


    ¡°How about I go in first,¡± he interjected.


    Naymond looked from him to the others. He raised a finger as if asking for permission. Deoti shot him a scathing glance.


    ¡°[Sage],¡± she said.


    Melmarc wondered why she hated him so much. He doubted it was simply because he was a Player.


    ¡°How about I go in.¡± Naymond stepped up to the door. ¡°She¡¯s terrified and Melmarc doesn¡¯t like what¡¯s going on. I could just¡ª¡±


    He hopped into the room.


    ¡°Shit!¡± Deoti hissed.


    ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father said. ¡°We just wait.¡±


    And they did. But not for long. In less than two minutes, Melmarc¡¯s interface flashed in front of him.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Quest Completed!]


    [Portal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free these innocent servants from their unfair damnation.


    [Objective Complete: Find the orb of Caldath.]


    Everyone else was looking into space, most likely at their interfaces showing them the same piece of information.


    ¡°That was anti-climatic,¡± Jed said under his breath.


    Apart from his team, no one else gave him any attention and Naymond popped out from behind the hue a moment later. He held in his hand a deep purple orb as large as a watermelon.


    He looked down at it. ¡°I don¡¯t think this can be a personal use item.¡± He hefted it in both hands. ¡°Maybe a war tool. You know, you fix it to power a building.¡±


    He looked around at everybody. ¡°No?¡± he asked. ¡°Alright then. That¡¯s a no.¡±


    He held it out to Fendor.


    Fendor reached out and took it. A hole appeared in the world just beneath his hands and he dipped his hands with the orb inside it.


    ¡°That¡¯s the reward and we helped clear the¡ª¡± Jude¡¯s words died in his mouth at a look from Deoti.


    [Exit Detected!]


    Melmarc saw the notification only for a new one to appear. It was a simple blue indicator that pointed to the side.


    He turned his head in its direction. So did the others. Right there, just a few steps away from them, was a portal.


    It was a perfect copy of the one Melmarc had been shot into.


    The sight of it filled Melmarc with an overbearing sense of relief. He felt as if he¡¯d been carrying a weight on his shoulders that he hadn¡¯t known he¡¯d been burdened with.


    He paused then turned to his dad. The moment Melmarc got his attention he walked up to him.


    ¡°A problem?¡± his father asked.


    Melmarc reached upwards and his father leaned his head down to listen.


    ¡°I got a personal quest along with my portal quest,¡± Melmarc told him in a low voice. ¡°I haven¡¯t done it.¡±


    His father frowned fully. ¡°What is the quest?¡±


    ¡°To defeat the Demi-god, Caldath.¡±


    ¡°A Demi-god in a B-rank portal,¡± his father mused. ¡°It must be significantly weakened. But personal quests are optional. They come with rewards but are ultimately optional.¡±


    Melmarc felt a touch of relief, loss too. ¡°Really?¡±


    His father nodded. ¡°They are optional. But do you want to complete it?¡±


    Melmarc hesitated. ¡°If it¡¯s not any trouble.¡±


    ¡°Do you know where it is? The Demi-god.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± his father said. ¡°We can find it. However, you will need a team. And I doubt mine will be allowed to help.¡±


    Melmarc looked back at Clinton¡¯s team. Something told him that risking their lives would not be a good idea. He turned back to his dad and shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s not necessary.¡±


    His father watched him for a moment before raising a hand and placing it on his shoulder. ¡°Your mother always said that it was best to pick your fights. She will be proud.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, dad.¡±


    His father turned from him. ¡°Deoti. Fendor. You¡¯ll go in first. We might have company so I need a mode of transport ready to go once we arrive.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss,¡± they answered.


    ¡°Mel and the [Sage] go next with me. Then the civilians. Then Axe and Saxi.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss,¡± Axe and Saxi answered.


    The moment the words were out of their mouth Deoti and Fendor made their way for the portal. Fendor entered first. Deoti hesitated at the entrance but looked over her shoulder.


    ¡°We¡¯ll talk on the other side, Mel,¡± she said. ¡°I promise.¡±


    Then she stepped into the portal and was gone.


    Following his father¡¯s instruction, Melmarc made his way for the portal. In a moment he was standing in front of it, staring. He¡¯d been shot into a portal that had begun this entire mess he¡¯d gone through.


    It feels like so long ago.


    Like a lifetime ago.


    He looked back at the rest of the place. The old walls. The single [Damned] corpse at the turn they¡¯d taken just before coming to meet Fendor here. The ancient feel of the place.


    To his surprise, he felt as if he would miss the place.


    I guess I¡¯ll really need therapy.


    For now, he had a home to go back to. He stepped forward, held his hand out in front of him and pushed his way into the portal.


    [Incomplete Quest Detected!]


    ¡­


    [Personal Quest Detected!]


    ¡­


    [Personal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free all from their eternal damnation.


    [Quest objective: Defeat Demi-god Caldath.]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery.]


    ¡­


    [Dear August Intruder, you currently cannot use this feature.]


    [Kindly complete all quests to gain access to Return Portal]


    ¡­


    [Pending Objective: Defeat Demi-god Caldath]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery]

 SEVENTY-EIGHT: Gratitude

    There is a small pain to holding onto something you have always craved yet finding yourself unable to still have it.


    Melmarc felt it in this moment.


    A way home stared at him and he stared back. He had it in his hands but was denied it. His interface stared at him and he stared back. It told him things he did not want to read. Things that wanted to break him.


    In this moment, he almost hated Veebee.


    [Incomplete Quest Detected!]


    ¡­


    [Personal Quest Detected!]


    ¡­


    [Personal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free all from their eternal damnation.


    [Quest objective: Defeat Demi-god Caldath.]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery.]


    ¡­


    [Dear August Intruder, you currently cannot use this feature.]


    [Kindly complete all quests to gain access to Return Portal]


    ¡­


    [Pending Objective: Defeat Demi-god Caldath]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery]


    You wanted to be strong, didn¡¯t you? He told himself. This is how you get there. You face challenging odds and survive.


    But this wasn¡¯t him facing challenging odds. This was him being forced to face challenging odds.


    ¡°What is wrong?¡±


    Melmarc heard his father¡¯s voice, cool and collected behind him. Taking a very deep breath, he dismissed his interface with a thought and turned.


    ¡°I can¡¯t go,¡± he said.


    Axe and Saxi shared a look. Melmarc¡¯s father¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change.


    ¡°Can¡¯t or won¡¯t,¡± Lisa asked.


    To emphasize his point, Melmarc placed his palm flat against the portal. The notification popped up once more but he dismissed it.


    He put his weight on the portal and nothing happened. It was like placing his weight against a brick wall. ¡°Can¡¯t.¡±


    Lisa looked up at his father. ¡°This is a problem.¡±


    And it was.


    You couldn''t go back into a portal if you''ve cleared the quest and exited it. That was simply how portals worked, which meant that Fendor and Deoti wouldn''t be able to come back. Sending someone after them would also be pointless because they, too, would most likely not be able to come back.


    On one side of the team, Jude ran a hand through his hair. Naymond walked cautiously up to Melmarc. Stood beside him. Melmarc looked down at him. For some reason the [Sage] seemed smaller. Terrified.


    Naymond looked at him with an apologetic face. ¡°You got another quest in the chamber, huh.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°An impossible one?¡± Naymond asked.


    Melmarc looked back at his father then at Naymond. ¡°Caldath.¡±


    ¡°Oof,¡± Naymond winced. ¡°Sounds like an impossible task. Those portal beings aren¡¯t known to generally care. I guess that¡¯s a good thing if it¡¯s giving you an impossible task. It is giving you an impossible task, right?¡±


    ¡°It said that I needed one because of who I am,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°It said it was necessary. So it picked one out.¡± He looked back at the portal in front of him, blue and swirling. ¡°It said it was an easy one. This doesn¡¯t sound easy.¡±


    Naymond let out a sigh. ¡°I did not understand a word of what you just said but I¡¯ll assume you were talking about our friend from the portal since I didn''t. That said, what do you need?¡±


    ¡°Not sure entirely.¡± Melmarc turned and looked at his father. ¡°I can¡¯t leave.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± His father folded his arms. ¡°You have to kill Caldath.¡±


    ¡°Caldath?¡± Clinton blurted out, looking like a man unable to stop himself. ¡°As in Ruins of Caldath Caldath?¡±


    Axe spared him a glance like an adult does a child who has acted beneath their age. Melmarc knew that if Deoti was present, the look would be scathing, far more scathing than Clinton deserved.


    Clinton shrunk from the large man¡¯s attention.


    Jed moved to stand at attention. ¡°Permission to speak.¡±


    His eyes were on Melmarc¡¯s father, but Melmarc¡¯s father kept his eyes on Melmarc, thoughtful. Jed remained at attention, regardless, waiting.


    ¡°What would you like to say?¡± Melmarc asked, knowing his father would not answer the man. Experience had since taught him that there were only five people who his father could break his focus on his thoughts to answer.


    And only one of them was in this portal.


    Jed looked from Melmarc to his dad, a touch of confused worry on his face.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Axe said. ¡°If Marc says you can speak, then you can speak.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to sound rude or less,¡± Jed said slowly. ¡°But is it that you can¡¯t leave the portal or we can¡¯t leave the portal?¡±


    Melmarc understood how that could have made him sound less.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to think about the answer to the question, though. Deoti and Fendor had just gone through the portal. And seeing as the others knew nothing about his personal quest, they clearly didn¡¯t have one. They didn¡¯t seem like they did, at least. So the answer seemed simple enough.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it applies to you,¡± he answered. ¡°You can probably go through. It shouldn¡¯t stop you.¡±


    Claire was giving him an odd look. It seemed calculating. It was the same one she had given him just before asking if he was bipolar. Melmarc wondered how he looked to her right now. Could she see how much being unable to go back bothered him right now?


    Did she see that small touch of anticipation slowly bubbling within him at the thought of fighting a Demi-god? His parents had most possibly fought angels once.


    And they came back home like it was just another day at the office.


    Jed met Melmarc¡¯s gaze. ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m asking.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t look away. It took him a moment, but the words registered in his head, and he knew what exactly Jed was asking. He knew why the man had started his words by pointing out that he didn¡¯t mean to sound rude or less. Less hadn''t meant less than rude.


    For a moment he didn¡¯t understand why Jed was asking such a question. They had signed no agreements, made no promises. They were a team with a defined hierarchy, even if the hierarchy was just the one leader. But they were not Melmarc¡¯s team. They were not held by his commands or charged with following him by a person of a deserving authority.


    Just as had been the case from the moment he¡¯d come upon them, it remained the same. They were free to do whatever they wanted. There was no part of him that did not agree with that.


    The conversation was irrelevant.


    But do they know this?


    The words echoed in Melmarc¡¯s head and his mind seemed to focus somehow. It was like staring at a show only to suddenly focus and realize that you hadn¡¯t been watching it at all, only hearing the sounds and seeing pictures move. It was as if he was only now paying attention.


    When he had been speaking with his father, it had felt like a king and his son speaking in the presence of their subjects, loyal and obedient. Now he was realizing that the latter part of the feeling had come from Deoti and the others.


    To Clinton and his team, they must¡¯ve felt like the servants and prisoners. It was why they had been quiet since standing in front of Deoti. They weren¡¯t being respectful. They were being terrified.


    It left a bitter taste in Melmarc¡¯s mouth. So he walked away from the portal. His steps were precise and decisive, almost counted. Everyone remained silent as he crossed the distance between him and Jed. Jed kept his eyes on him, lips pressed in a thin line, head tilting upwards to meet his gaze with every step that brought them closer.


    Defiance or respect? Melmarc wondered. He hoped it was respect. Defiance implied the existence of fear, an oppressive fear that one would not allow to break them.


    That was not who he wanted to be. That was not who he was. At least not to those who had done nothing wrong.


    Standing in front of Jed, he said, ¡°You are not prisoners. Just like when you came here to save me, nothing has changed. You are still free to do what you want.¡±


    Jed¡¯s lips remained pressed into a thin line. ¡°I know.¡±


    Melmarc watched Jed when he spoke and a realization dawned on him.


    You don¡¯t have to know, he told himself, begged himself. You don¡¯t need to know.


    As he¡¯d grown, Melmarc had learned to be aware of his size. He knew just how intimidating he could look to his peers. He¡¯d seen it enough times in how people looked at Ark when he got angry, when he held people up by the collars of their shirts and pinned them against the lockers, violence brimming bright in his eyes.


    He¡¯d seen how they¡¯d reacted and talked to Ark when in his grasp.


    You don¡¯t want to know.


    And yet¡­


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc ignored the thought. It was right, him claiming that he didn''t want to know was dissonant. He softened his expression in case it was hardened from his dismay at being unable to leave, and asked, ¡°Are you afraid of me, Jed?¡±


    Jed had been the only Delver in the group that had been generally uncaring. He had been professional, devoid of emotional reactions except for the times when Naymond spoke.


    Jed¡¯s expression softened. Melmarc saw sorrow there, sorrow for him.


    Jed¡¯s hand moved, he made a fist and placed it against Melmarc¡¯s chest in a show of respect and smiled.


    ¡°Not one bit, kid.¡±


    Dissonant.


    The word had never sounded sadder in Melmarc''s mind.


    In respect for everything Jed had put into making the lie convincing¡ªor perhaps it was not truly a lie meant for him¡ªMelmarc took a step away from him and smiled. He looked at the rest of the team individually. Nelson was the only person he didn¡¯t have to tilt his attention downwards to look at.


    ¡°I was serious,¡± he said, affecting normalcy. ¡°You guys can go.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc had a feeling the thought was in response to the normalcy he was trying to go for. After all, he didn¡¯t think there was anything more dissonant than an expression designed to hide the exact opposite of what a person felt.


    ¡°My dad¡¯s here,¡± he continued. ¡°And his team is quite strong. Naymond always has a few tricks up his sleeves so there¡¯s that, too.¡±


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    He added a soft smile to be more convincing.


    Jed was the first to move. Jude followed quietly behind him, eyes avoiding everyone as it had avoided Melmarc¡¯s eyes when he¡¯d addressed them. Clinton and Nelson were next.


    Claire remained standing.


    When all four got to the portal, Naymond stepped aside. Jed raised his hand. He dipped the entire hand into the portal, paused, and took a deep breath. Jude had raised his hand with him, but he¡¯d merely kept it up against the portal. He looked at Jed and his hesitation.


    Jed frowned.


    ¡°You¡¯re just a kid,¡± he finally said, voice heavy. ¡°A kid who shouldn¡¯t even be here.¡± He paused, the air heavy with the silence. ¡°A friend called me in for a favor and I answered.¡± He pulled his hand from the portal and dropped it. ¡°I can¡¯t call myself a human being if I don¡¯t give it my all.¡± He turned and looked at Melmarc, eyes set. ¡°Let¡¯s go kill the owner of this ruin.¡±


    Clinton and Nelson turned away from the portal, eyes also set in determination. They hadn¡¯t even raised their hands to the portal.


    Jude dropped his hand and stared emptily at Melmarc. Empty wasn¡¯t the correct word to describe the expression. In truth, he looked terrified.


    ¡°I got paid to do a job,¡± he muttered as if he was convincing himself. Compelling himself.


    He was terrified but seemed to be forcing himself to push past it.


    Is it peer pressure? Melmarc wondered. Jude didn¡¯t strike him as the kind of man to do this out of the goodness of his heart.


    It didn¡¯t really matter. The truth was that Melmarc actually wanted them to go. He was about to step into a fight with a Demi-god. His father had said he needed a team, and he had one. Axe, Saxi, and his dad.


    And they were strong.


    ¡°You really don¡ª¡±


    Axe placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. He gave Melmarc a look, and Melmarc was surprised to realize that he understood it. The men in front of him had raised themselves, given themselves the motivation and courage to do what they thought was necessary.


    And you don¡¯t take that from a person.


    There was something else he wanted to know, though. For that he looked at Claire.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go?¡± he asked.


    She shrugged, then gestured at the portal. ¡°Your Healer¡¯s already gone. I figured you¡¯d need one if you¡¯re going to fight the owner of this place. Besides, you¡¯re a good kid. No harm sticking around a little longer.¡±


    In the absence of the one word he was waiting for to crawl into his mind, a genuine smile touched Melmarc''s lips. He wanted to thank her but didn¡¯t know how to. How did he say thank you and let her know he was thanking her for meaning her words and not for staying behind to fight with him?


    In the end, it didn¡¯t matter.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said.


    She would interpret it as gratitude for agreeing to stay but it didn''t matter. Gratitude for something was all that mattered.


    Gratitude, for whatever reason, was always welcome.


    Claire¡¯s eyes narrowed, she seemed to peer at him. ¡°Are you sure you aren¡¯t bipolar in someway. Because I¡¯ve really got to know. It¡¯s so¡­ there. But not necessarily in a terrible way. Wait. Do you have like a mind skill that let¡¯s you switch between which one is necessary?¡±


    Her curiosity was overshadowing whatever had made her silent for so long and Melmarc was glad for it. At least it allowed her see past whatever had kept her silent.


    ¡°Now, how do we find this Caldath guy?¡± Saxi asked. ¡°Because nothing obvious turns up.¡±


    That was a good question. With the portal right in front of them, Melmarc suddenly felt like they were not moving fast enough. Personally, he wouldn¡¯t have minded spending some more time moving around and fighting some more [Damned]. But now, all he wanted to do was be done with this portal.


    Melmarc looked at his dad since Saxi was also looking at him. His father looked at him with a simple expression, at least as simple an expression as he could have. Still, Melmarc read something in it.


    He¡¯s waiting.


    It was an expression he¡¯d seen a few times. He and Ark had mostly seen it as children. As they¡¯d grown older and learned the lesson it was supposed to teach, they saw it lesser until Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d seen it. It was patient expectation. It was the look he gave them when they brought a problem their father felt they could either solve or should learn to solve to him. It was the expression that told them that they were the ones that were supposed to take charge not him.


    ¡°Boss?¡± Saxi said.


    Melmarc¡¯s dad kept his attention on Melmarc.


    It made Melmarc think. If he was the owner of a ruins such as this one, where would he be? The answer was simple, a no brainer. The throne room. Unfortunately, his mind wasn¡¯t in complete agreement with it.


    When they¡¯d made their way into the palace through the underground entrance earlier, that was when his interface had informed him that Caldath was aware of his presence. Not when I entered the portal or when we blew a hole in the wall.


    Didn¡¯t that mean Caldath was supposed to be the one looking for him?


    Then again, being a Demi-god had to come with some level of pride. If a person was defending themselves in their own home and their clash with the enemy was inevitable, would they simply sit on their throne?


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a dick,¡± Jed muttered suddenly, his tone tired.


    Melmarc turned and found Naymond standing with his hand inside the portal. The [Sage] studied his hand in the portal for a moment longer before pulling it out.


    ¡°What?¡± he asked, confused. ¡°I¡¯m kind of with the boy. I just wanted to check if I was locked here with him, too.¡±


    He gave them a friendly smile right after.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised when his mind found no dissonance. Naymond was a lot of things, maybe even a coward¡ªarguably. But Melmarc had never thought of him as a back-stabber. Or a generally terrible person.


    A proud man would wait for the enemy to go through everyone until they got to him, Melmarc thought, his mind actively working in the background even with the Naymond-distraction.


    There was also the fact that Delvers spoke a lot about portals with powerful monsters that had an entire section dedicated to them. They also talk about summoned help whenever the monster was too strong.


    Melmarc found himself thinking they would also have a summoned help. He hoped they would. In spite of everything that had happened, the child in him that had held grand dreams of glory as a Delver and wanted to experience what Delvers experienced really wanted to experience a summoned help in a portal.


    Caldath was most definitely waiting for them in a room. The question was if it was the throne room.


    Melmarc¡¯s father was still looking at him. Melmarc doubted he¡¯d been distracted by Naymond¡¯s shenanigans.


    Axe, Saxi and Lisa were looking at Melmarc, too.


    ¡°Did anyone come across anything like a throne room?¡± he asked them.


    All three shook their heads.


    Then Saxi sighed as if fatigued. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll go scouting.¡±


    ¡°Can you reach Deoti and Fendor, Lisa?¡± Melmarc¡¯s father asked.


    Lisa shook her head. ¡°They''re gone.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised,¡± Saxi muttered. ¡°So what happens? Is the group waiting here or somewhere else while I scout ahead?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s dad said nothing so Melmarc took over.


    ¡°I think that would be best,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s a good idea to just stay were we are for now.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t help but notice Jude remained significantly terrified. The Delver was probably regretting his decision. His burst of courage must''ve dwindled out by now.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Melmarc said when Saxi turned to go. ¡°Let¡¯s go together.¡±


    Saxi gave him an odd look. ¡°You sure?¡±


    Melmarc nodded, an idea in his head. ¡°I want to try something. But I need one of the [Damned]. I¡¯m not sure it will work, but if it does, it will save us a lot of time.¡±


    He really hoped it would work.


    No one opposed, and they found themselves leaving the general area of the portal after Saxi had confirmed without anyone asking that he had marked the location of the return portal so that they could always come back to it.


    As for finding a [Damned], that also happened easily. Too easily. It was a solitary [Damned] stuck in a room. A weird occurrence since the creatures always worked in a group. Melmarc had seen a case of only one of them walking around, but it was almost as rare as catching the sunrise. In his days here, he¡¯d seen a solitary [Damned] maybe once or twice and he''d never caught a sunrise.


    Melmarc walked inside the room and activated [Knowledge is power]. The moment it was concluded, the creature went straight at him. Ignoring the notification that came with the activation of [Bless Your Kindness], Melmarc killed it with two well placed blasts of [Secrecy] to the head.


    The fight had lasted for as long as eight seconds, if he could even call it a fight. Melmarc looked down at his feet as the notification informing him of his victory and his increase in [EP] by a hundred popped up.


    I didn¡¯t even move a step, he thought.


    ¡°So what?¡± Naymond said from behind him with the group. ¡°You¡¯ve got all the locations of the [Damned] just mapped out?¡±


    ¡°You could say that,¡± Saxi answered, smug.


    If scouts had that, then the scouting classes were definitely useful in portals. Mapping out the locations of enemies was a boon Melmarc could not deny.


    Now he only had one thing he needed to do. He pulled up what he¡¯d sought out the [Damned] for.


    [Would you like to use Soul Damnation You will not be able to renege on this decision?]


    [Yes/No.]


    Yes.


    [You have selected Soul Damnation.]


    [Soul Damnation (Mastery 0.00%)


    The damned damns their own soul into further damnation through the damnation of their soul by offering their soul to Caldath.


    I really hope I don¡¯t have to use it for this to work.


    The last thing he needed was to accidentally damn his soul. In the end, he didn¡¯t have to activate the skill.


    Most skills came with knowledge of how to use them. [Soul Damnation], however, came with a powerful pull. It made him want to head in a direction and pledge his soul to the thing waiting there.


    It was not so strong a pull as to be called compelling, but it was there, at the back of his mind. It was as strong as that very brief moment when you ask yourself if you remembered to lock your doors when you left the house.


    Right now, it was guiding him out of the room.


    He turned to the others. ¡°I¡¯ve got it.¡±


    ¡­


    Jude walked behind the others, led to the slaughter like a sheep without a choice. They had summoned the courage to go and do what they did not have to. They had summoned the courage.


    Not for the first time since touching the portal, he looked at his interface.


    [You are not allowed to leave]


    [Your Quest status has been updated by Void-beast designation 12849 to Incomplete]


    [I¡¯ve been watching. You¡¯ve done too much. You are not friend. I don''t like you]


    [Updated Quest objective: Defeat Demi-god Caldath]


    What the hell was Void-beast designation 12849? Why were they up against a Demi-god? And more importantly, why was this happening to him?


    ¡­


    Melmarc stood in front of a great double-door. It was a deep black with grey highlights. At least beneath the orange hue that covered it. For now, his attention wasn¡¯t on the hue that covered it but the depiction that had been carved into the door.


    On one side was a sea of people, bowing in subservience to nothing. Some had hands raised in supplication. Some looked up as if a great glory had descended upon them. It was great craftsmanship. As great as he was capable of telling.


    It was almost as if he was quite literally looking at people molded into the door. The attention to detail was masterful.


    On the other side of the door soldiers died. It was the only way Melmarc could describe it. Armored and armed, they laid on top of each other, depictions of blood in the equal black color of the door accentuated in grey highlights.


    It was grotesque. It was terrifying.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Claire said, standing next to him.


    They¡¯d found the door roughly four minutes ago. The tugging Melmarc had felt from the skill [Soul Damnation] had brought them here. Whatever he wanted to pledge his soul to laid behind these doors.


    When he¡¯d confirmed that, he¡¯d used [Knowledge is Power]. It had shown him nothing beyond the door. But that had not been the purpose. The purpose had been in the selection of skills.


    Before he¡¯d used it, they had gone through the different skills everyone had. They hadn¡¯t revealed their skills to each other, but they had given hints. Melmarc had taken the time to ask the questions. Who had skills that could aid him in combat? Who had this specific kind of skill or that specific kind of skill?


    In the end, with advise from his father on what the kind of beast he was about to fight could be capable of, he¡¯d gone with a defensive skill. Personally, a part of him had wanted to go for Saxi¡¯s skill [Sense of the Survivor], but it wouldn¡¯t have helped. If there was only one beast beyond the doors, then there would be no point of a skill that told you that you were about to be attacked.


    If there was a group behind the doors, then there was a chance that there would be a lot and there would be no point to knowing who was attacking. Knowledge of attacks in a fight were only as good as your speed in responding to them. Melmarc wasn''t going to risk taking a skill that lacked direct offense or defense over one that had for that possibility


    So he¡¯d gone with a skill from Axe called [World Bound]. From what he got from it at its early mastery, it allowed him dispel a level of damage for as long as his feet were planted firmly beneath him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll kill it when I see it,¡± Saxi suddenly growled, his voice colored in anger.


    ¡°Hold your tongue,¡± Axe told him, holding his own anger back. ¡°You know you can¡¯t do anything to it.¡±


    Saxi rounded on him. ¡°You know it did this.¡± He raised his hand so that Axe could see the markings on the back it. ¡°It bound us, knowing very well that this would be necessary. It wanted us to stand and watch, unable to enter. It wanted us helpless.¡±


    ¡°Not in front of them, Saxi,¡± Lisa said.


    Melmarc¡¯s father stared at the doors with a very significantly empty expression. Apart from when he was giving Melmarc the pieces of advice that had led to him selecting Axe¡¯s skill, he had said nothing.


    When everyone had calmed down, Melmarc turned his attention to the next important thing in the room. Naymond had been the one to draw his attention to it when they¡¯d arrived at the door while the others had been in a hurry to start looking for it. The [Sage] had simply gotten to the door, turned his head, and pointed it out. But he hadn¡¯t needed to. Melmarc had felt it from a mile a way. There was a carving in the wall, just beside the door. It looked like an artistic scribble. Nonsense scratches if it was artistic.


    ¡°How did you spot it so quickly?¡± Clinton asked, stepping up beside Naymond.


    Naymond shrugged, nonchalant. ¡°I¡¯m a [Sage]. I see and know things that you can¡¯t even begin to fathom.¡±


    Melmarc had a feeling Naymond was talking about forms. Maybe Gifted weren¡¯t the only ones with it.


    Everyone, except Jude, looked ready enough. If the fact that the S-ranks weren¡¯t going to be able to help them bothered them, they hid it well. Again, apart from Jude who was now visibly trembling in front of the door. The Delver had devolved into something else so suddenly and so quickly. He was acting as if by agreeing to stay, the others had forced him to stay. As if it was a mistake and the world was now actively after his life.


    Melmarc almost wanted to tell him that he could stay behind and not bother entering with them. Almost.


    ¡°I see no more reason for us to wait,¡± Naymond said, nodding towards the artistic scratches. ¡°Why don¡¯t we get our help and have Nelson let us in. I think the double-doors might weigh too much for us.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. He walked up to the scratch and looked at it. Artistic scratches. It was the best he could make of it.


    ¡°So I just place my hand on it?¡± he asked, not happy about how much of a novice it made him sound like.


    But you¡¯re a novice.


    ¡°Everyone remembers the formation, right?¡± Clinton said. ¡°Nelson in front. Jed and I next. Melmarc and Jude next. Then Naymond and Claire. They''re the weakest and most important. Jude and Melmarc will be in charge of supporting us and protecting them. The rest of us will be in charge of killing whatever¡¯s behind this door.¡±


    Everyone nodded.


    Once they were done, Melmarc placed a hand on the summoning symbol. It glowed a soft white with a blue hue, reminding him of the color of his rings of mana. He felt nothing, though.


    Before long there was a burst of light on the other side of the door and everyone turned to look at it. It gathered slowly from all over the place like a million fireflies, coalescing into a shape.


    They watched in awe.


    ¡°Never got to experience this before,¡± Nelson admitted.


    Claire nodded. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    As it took shape, Melmarc recalled all the things he¡¯d heard about summoned assistants in a portal. They were often of different forms, never limited to anything humanoid, going from humanoid to amphibian to reptilian to anything in between. Someone had once gotten a giant bug¡ªtheir description. They were blue-white. Translucent. They did not communicate and acted of their own volition, existing outside of the team¡¯s command. You summoned them and they did whatever they had to in order to achieve the quest objective of defeating whatever enemy you faced.


    When the summoned helper was done forming. It stood in front of them, staring down at the group. It was large, as tall as eight feet, maybe ten. It was wolf like, though humanoid. Like some depictions of a lycanthrope.


    So far, Melmarc didn¡¯t see anything wrong with the descriptions Delvers had given of the summoned assistants except for one thing.


    The creature in front of him had fur covering its entire body. It wore no heavy armor. And it was the color of a greyhound wolf. It was not blue-white or translucent. It was a physically formed entity.


    Above its head was a green indicator with a name and a class and a rank.


    [Failikdajafut Nilk¡¯taifrigth Hkdott (Slasher)(A)]


    Deep blue eyes took in those in front of it with a detached intelligence. It glanced to the side, took in Melmarc¡¯s father and his team, as if measuring them, sizing them up for some reason. Then it moved.


    It walked straight, uncaring of those in front of it. Clinton and his team stepped aside so that it didn¡¯t walk into them.


    It showed no appreciation for their action. Its steps were precise, controlled. There was a grace to it that Melmarc couldn¡¯t place, something feral, animalistic.


    When it got to Melmarc, it stopped and peered down at him. Deep blue eyes watched him, studied him.


    Its already wide mouth somehow split more. The action showed teeth in a manner that made it look like a grin or a feral smile.


    Then it proved Delvers to be liars once more.


    <<This,>> it said in a deep growl, <<will be fun.>>

 SEVENTY-NINE: Oh! Damned!

    Melmarc stared up at the hulking humanoid wolf. He was baffled and confused. How much of the portal had Delvers gotten wrong?


    A portal summoned help was supposed to be a translucent form of blue-ish white or white-ish blue. Yet one stood in front of him in the varying beautifying colors of any living creature. Such a creature was also supposed to be mute, known to only do what it had to do to clear the portal, fight whatever creature was the reason for its summoning.


    And yet, one had just spoken in front of him.


    The creature, Failikdajafut Nilk¡¯taifrigth Hkdott, looked like a lycanthrope. A werewolf capable of standing on two feet like a human. It had clawed hands and feet that were currently exposed and blue eyes that looked at him with a touch of interest. It wore light armor. A simple leather vest that was not at all a vest. It was brown, the size of two heads put together, and was secured firmly over the left side of the creature¡¯s chest.


    The creature wore vambraces on both arms and what looked like shin guards on both legs. They were both brown as the dirt on a forest ground. It wore nothing over its groin and Melmarc made a mental note not to look down.


    The creature¡ªMelmarc had decided to call it Faili¡ªnarrowed its eyelids. It peered deeper at him as if trying to make sense of something.


    Then its feral smile widened. <<You can hear me.>>


    For some reason, while it had been a simple sentence, there was something ominous about it. It was as if he wasn¡¯t supposed to be able to hear it.


    Faili turned its head and looked at Melmarc¡¯s father. <<Can he hear me, too?>>


    ¡°These things always have a class,¡± Saxi said, oblivious to what was currently happening.


    ¡°The summoner is usually the one that gets the piece of information,¡± Claire said. ¡°At least that¡¯s what I¡¯ve heard.¡±


    Faili turned its attention back to Melmarc. It frowned. <<Another dud.>>


    With that, it turned away as if disappointed and stood squarely in front of the door. <<Let¡¯s just get this over with.>>


    Everyone was looking a Melmarc.


    ¡°Do you have its name and class?¡± Jed asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a [Slasher]. A rank.¡±


    Nelson let out a groan. ¡°It means the thing inside there is at least an A rank.¡± He rolled his shoulder, pumped himself up. His face turned solemn. ¡°This isn¡¯t going to end well.¡±


    Everyone knew that if a summoned help in the portal was stronger than those in the group, then the final creature to be fought was significantly stronger. And from what Melmarc knew, summoned assistants were never weaker than the strongest Delver.


    His eyes settled on Faili and the door. Beyond it was an A-rank monster. Maybe an S-rank.


    Were they going to survive this?


    ¡°Pseudo B,¡± his father said suddenly.


    Saxi snapped his finger. ¡°That¡¯s what it¡­¡±


    He trailed off at a look from Lisa. It was clear they knew something, although it was also possible that whatever it was wasn¡¯t really relevant to the current situation.


    ¡°Here¡¯s the trick, Marc,¡± Axe said after giving Saxi a look. ¡°When you are faced with a portal with a final enemy you have to defeat, you give it your all.¡±


    Defeat. Melmarc had a very strong feeling that the word was just a soft and gentle way of telling him to kill whatever was behind the doors.


    Axe walked up to him. ¡°You go in there and fight whatever¡¯s in there like an F-rank fighting off an SS-rank. That¡¯s how you survive. No matter the portal, treat it like you¡¯re the underdog.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He could see sense in a piece of advice like that.


    Returning his attention to Faili and the door, Melmarc sucked in a deep breath and let it out. He prepared himself. There would be nothing truly different here.


    I¡¯m still fighting for my life.


    They arranged themselves in front of the door. Faili in his towering height¡ªMelmarc thought the creature was male since it had a deep voice¡ªstared up at the door, sniffing the air. Then it looked down at the rest of them, standing beside it.


    It didn¡¯t look impressed.


    Melmarc turned his head in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re coming, too?¡±


    ¡°Of course I am,¡± Naymond said, eyes fixed on the door. ¡°How else am I going to convince you to be my commanding officer?¡±


    The [Sage] was putting up a good front, but Melmarc could see that he was worried.


    ¡°You told me yourself that you¡¯re a support class not a combat class,¡± Melmarc told him. ¡°We¡¯re going into a combat situation. This might not be a good idea.¡±


    Naymond raised a finger at him. ¡°Ah, but you see, I¡¯m a support class. I support.¡± He gestured at the line of them standing in front of the door. ¡°This is a team and you are all in need of support. This is where my class shines brightest. And I intend on shining very much.¡± A sly smile split his lips. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to see the reason people like employing members of my class?¡±


    It had been a curiosity for Melmarc once, now, he couldn¡¯t say.


    ¡°Sure,¡± he said in the end. ¡°Why not.¡±


    Faili let out a sigh. It came out like a low growl. <<If Daisukacjtosla was here I¡¯d¡¯ve bet six furtails that none of them walk out alive.>> He placed a hand on the door. <<But so is the fate of the path we choose. I will burn a hunt to the moon in their name.>>


    It was quite worrying to know their summoned assistant didn¡¯t believe in their chances of survival. On another note, Pelumi would be surprised to know that whatever the summoned assistants were, it seemed like they had a life.


    Unless they were actual amalgamations of whatever residue were left of beings that had been here once.


    Melmarc paused. It was odd, thinking about something as normal as a simple conversation with Pelumi. He hadn¡¯t thought of her in what felt like ages. He hadn¡¯t thought of anyone that wasn¡¯t family, Delano, or Eroms in forever.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Clinton said, drawing Melmarc from his reverie.


    ¡°Ready,¡± the others chorused.


    Naymond gave only a nod.


    Faili said, <<A battle fit for the moon.>>


    Then it pushed the door open as if the doors weighed nothing at all.


    With the doors open before them, inside the room was dark, and the hue that had surrounded the door was now nothing more than a curtain of colored air in the space the doors had once occupied.


    Faili looked to his left, then his right. The team seemed to still be prepping themselves mentally because no one took a step forward. Melmarc had a feeling there was no curtain of light in front of them.


    Faili stepped forward and through the curtain of light.


    Understanding that there was no point wasting anymore time, Melmarc followed after. He gave his father one last look and found him standing there with the most awkward motivating smile on his face.


    His father wasn¡¯t known to smile so Melmarc knew for a fact that he was giving it his all. But it was so awkward to look at. If he was being honest, out of context, it would¡¯ve been nothing short of terrifying.


    Melmarc smiled back, then walked through the curtain of light.


    [You have entered an area of Broken Divinity]


    [You have been inflicted with status Debuff Ruin]


    [Ruin]


    Enemies within area of Broken Divinity lose one stat point on all active stats and 3% mastery on all skills.


    ¡­


    [A Sapient life form representing its world has been detected.]


    [August Intruder detected]


    [All status ailments of Broken Divinity are lifted]


    [You have gained immunity]


    Beside Melmarc, Faili scoffed in irritation. <<An annoying type.>>


    The others entered behind them a moment sooner. Naymond was the first, strolling in as if he still wore a perfectly tailored three-piece suit instead of the tattered mess that currently clothed him.


    Clinton and the rest followed after. It wasn¡¯t long after they walked in that Clinton let out an annoyed groan. Melmarc wondered if they were getting a similar notification.


    ¡°This is a problem,¡± Clinton said in a serious tone.


    Melmarc spared the time to look back. He was looking around after all, but in the darkness there wasn¡¯t much to see. He did see Jude pale further. The Delver was ghostly at this point.


    Will he really be alright?


    ¡°Trespassing,¡± a deep voice echoed through the room. It was simple, calm, yet so domineering. ¡°Massacre. Destruction. Genocide¡­ Theft. And as though it were not enough, now you intrude. You step into MY Domain! MY world! You intrude upon MY very being!¡±


    A spark of white exploded in a small burst to their side. Melmarc stopped, his eyes landing on the spark of white. It was a simple tongue of fire, a deep white that hovered atop what looked like a hand held out in imploration.


    Another white flame exploded in another direction. It was of the same size, dancing atop a hand like the last.


    A cacophony of flames exploded, slowly lighting up the entire room. It lit over more hands in a straight line on both sides of the room. Behind Melmarc, the others watched with awe and worry. Naymond did not.


    With the room lit up Melmarc was more enraptured by something else. Once upon a time, when he¡¯d made his way into the castle while walking with Saxi and the others. He¡¯d seen something on the wall. A face. A hand. A body doing its best to reach out of the wall.


    It had looked artistic then, grotesque but artistic. In this room, however, as artistic as it was, Melmarc couldn¡¯t focus on the artistry.


    There were no walls, not by his standard. The entire wall was so covered in the grotesque form of bodies reaching out, seeking escape that it was like a depiction of far too many people trying to escape.


    The entire walls of people were covered in blood red, soaked and drowned. It was a surprise that they were not dripping. Each one was so life like. The largest number of the bodies looked broken in despair, some mouths fell agape in nonexistent screams. There were almost no hands reaching out in supplication, only despair and fear and a desire for help.


    Only a few hands were held out in supplication. From them hovered the flames of white that illuminated the room spanning the length of both walls.


    ¡°That¡¯s terrible,¡± Claire muttered as the group slowly moved into position.


    Despite their experience in the portal so far, Clinton, Jed, Nelson and Jude held their guns up, aimed forward like a military team.


    ¡°Take formation,¡± Clinton said in a low voice.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t paying him much in the way of attention. He and Faili were occupied by something more important. There was a massive throne at the end of the room, right in front of them.


    On it sat a creature as large as Faili.


    <<Fucking Dying,>> Faili spat.


    He said ¡®dying¡¯ like it was a title or a description like ¡®undead.¡¯ As if the creature in front of them was stuck in a perpetual state of dying but refused to die.


    <<This will be an annoying one,>> Faili said. <<No matter.>>


    He held his hands out to his sides and his claws grew slightly longer. It lowered its stance and focused on the creature in front of them.


    ¡°I was a god once,¡± the deep voice came back, calling out from the creature in front of them. ¡°I touched true divinity.¡±


    The creature was massive, clad in crimson armor and desiccating skin on its unmasked face. It sat regally on its broken throne with golden eyes. On its left was as massive broad sword as long as two men and as wide as Eroms if there were two of him with a curved crimson blade. On its right was a spear as tall as ten feet. Red smoke spilled downwards from it.


    It leaned forward and reached skywards with one hand and Melmarc noticed that a number of chains bound it to the throne, black and heavy.


    It stared skyward. ¡°True divinity, like the wisps of a fleeing slimp. Then¡­¡± Its head snapped forward like an annoyed old man¡¯s. ¡°It was taken from me, usurped by those who would not share the power. Greedy fools, all of them.¡± Its eyes settled slowly on Melmarc and Faili. ¡°Now here you stand, inspired by the laws of existence.¡±


    It shook a tired head. ¡°No matter. Like the ones before you, you too shall fall, Chosen of the void.¡±


    It stood up, the motion jerky like the [Damned]. Melmarc wanted to attack but there was something ominous in the creature in front of him. He had a feeling if he struck now, nothing good would happen.


    Faili wasn¡¯t moving either. He stood next to Melmarc, waiting.


    The creature, standing tall, reached to his side and wrapped a gauntleted hand around the hilt of the sword and pulled it free. The sword was so long that he couldn¡¯t hold it down without it trailing on the ground.


    ¡°Now then,¡± it stepped forward, its sword dragging a trail of sparks behind it. ¡°I believe the time has come.¡±


    It stood regally, and looked up. When it did, a notification appeared above its head.


    [Caldath Son of Valoth (Child of the Void) (A/B)]


    Beneath it was a red indicator and a long red bar that spanned horizontally from one end to the other. It was long but confined to rest only above Caldath.


    <<And there¡¯s the health bar,>> Faili said to himself. <<May the path of the warrior begin and the moon guide my claws.>>


    Caldath gave the bar and his name one final attention and nodded as if all was finally right with their presence. Then he returned his attention to Melmarc and Faili.


    ¡°Child of the Void,¡± it said. ¡°An unfitting name. But a child inherits from the father as always.¡±


    It raised its sword, curved at the blade, and swung it backwards. It tore a gash in the ground. Melmarc had never seen anything break since entering the portal and knew one thing.


    We don¡¯t want to be hit with that.


    Caldath nodded to itself, as if proud of what it¡¯s blade had done. ¡°Now then,¡± it turned to all of them, ¡°Let us begin, Intruders.¡±


    ¡°Skill incoming!¡± Naymond announced.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The team fell into motion as Caldath swung his sword in a vertical upward slash. The blade tore through the ground once more, raising rocks and debris. But the skill was different. Three arcs of deep white shot forward like claws as tall as Faili each one of them, maybe taller.


    Melmarc¡¯s first instinct was to activate [Knowledge is Power]. He buried the instinct, suppressed it, and stepped to the side. There was enough space between each slash that it passed him by without touching him.


    To his side, Faili did nothing to evade. Instead, he raised clawed hands and took a slash head on. It clashed into his claws and he turned the skill aside so that it flew off to smash into one of the walls.


    <<Demi-gods and their obsession with pure mana,>> it scoffed. <<As annoying as it is pathetic.>>


    Clinton and his men fell easily into formation. Nelson was already moving ahead, gun aimed, trigger pulled. Clinton was fast behind him, half a step and to the left. Jed followed. The sound of gunfire filled the air. Bullets pinged off Caldath¡¯s armored body and he turned his head to them in mild confusion.


    Melmarc noticed the almost imperceptible decline of the red bar above Caldath¡¯s head. The bullets were having an effect it seemed. But the effect was wholly inconsequential. They could shoot it until they died of old age and still wouldn¡¯t be able to kill it.


    Faili dropped down on all four limbs and bounded off to the side, it ran in an arc as if trying to flank Caldath from the side while the others pelted it with bullets from the front.


    Melmarc¡¯s mind warred with what he should do. There were options, he had them, but there was already a plan. He was supposed to protect Claire with Naymond.


    With a frown and a strong pull towards the respect of hierarchy, he took a step back. Then another. As the others pushed forward, he slowly fell back to protect Claire. The last thing they needed was their Healer dying on them. And he held the responsibility of keeping her alive.


    Faili went after Caldath on the side of its sword arm. It charged him with the kind of speed you would only see on an agility focused class. However, it did not charge into it. It came to a screeching stop and swung one clawed hand. Four diagonal slashes of deep red mana shot out from it.


    Caldath ignored the bullets and swung his sword at Faili¡¯s attack. His blade shattered three of the four slashes, but the fourth phased as if teleporting through a short distance. It appeared behind the swung sword and slammed into Caldath¡¯s shoulder.


    The blow sent Caldath staggering a step back.


    Melmarc watched the red bar reduce. It wasn¡¯t too significant, but alone, it had done at least ten times the damage shooting had done.


    Caldath rounded on Faili and growled something feral.


    Faili growled back. <


    >


    Caldath stepped in his direction, a single step covering over a distance. It was fast, but not fast enough to move unseen. Still, it was fast enough to escape the burst of bullets and swing its blade at Faili.


    The lycanthrope hopped away from where it had been. Caldath¡¯s sword tore a groove in the ground sending rubbles flying. Faili followed quickly. It leapt forward, claws slashing. Caldath took the blow with a raised sword, blocked the attacks. The clash sent a ringing of steel against bone through the entire room.


    At some point Faili dived Caldath, landing with all fours on the flat of the creature¡¯s blade as it threatened to keep the lycanthrope at bay. Caldath heaved forward with Faili on its sword and swung Faili aside.


    Faili soared through the air and landed gracefully on its feet.


    ¡°Games!¡± Caldath hissed. ¡°Sent to me by what is left of the vestiges of existence. You will die like those before you. Like those after you.¡±


    A slash of blue mana shot through the distance, aimed perfectly for its neck. Caldath turned and caught the attack in a raised hand. It shattered harmlessly against its palm.


    ¡°Weak,¡± it spat.


    Melmarc would be lying if he said it was wrong. Jed was a C-rank Delver. Compared to Caldath that could¡¯ve been an A regardless of what its indicator was saying, he was weak. The realization dawned on Melmarc.


    Clinton was the only B-rank amongst the Delvers. Nelson was a C-rank which had Melmarc believing that the Delver would not be able to survive a blow from Caldath¡¯s sword, no matter what skill he used.


    Melmarc took a step forward but hesitated.


    Hierarchy.


    He understood his own thoughts. In all things there needed to be hierarchy. Order was the natural way of things, even in nature among the living. You did not disobey simply because you were right.


    Melmarc gritted his teeth, annoyed at his own understanding of his current limitations. In front of him, Clinton and Nelson continued to do their best to distract Caldath with suppressing fire. It was proving pointless now. In the beginning, it had worked simply because Caldath had been momentarily confused by it.


    Now, it ignored them.


    Melmarc paused. Where¡¯s Jude?


    No sooner had the thought come alive had he found the Delver. Jude paled, cowering in the corner as close to the exit as possible. The doors remained open, however, he was pressed against the curtain of light as if it was a solid thing.


    He broke rank!


    The realization made Melmarc almost bubble in anger. A Delver had broken rank on such an important fight. Jude had had a long space of time to back out of this. He¡¯d encouraged himself in the beginning but his fear had followed him all the way to the entrance.


    I should¡¯ve stopped him from coming in, Melmarc thought with gritted teeth as Faili engaged Caldath alone in front of him. No. I should¡¯ve forced him through the portal when it appeared.


    Jed had given up on his gun wholly, discarded it to the ground like a useless thing. Now he held knives in both hands and was throwing sword slashes at Caldath. While it held Faili in a stalemate, Caldath gave those slashes as much attention as he gave the gunfire. None.


    Each slash battered against Caldath¡¯s armored body, shattering like glass upon contact. It told Melmarc one simple truth.


    This fight is no place for a C-rank Delver.


    Caldath deflected a blow from Faili with the flat of its blade. It was a properly executed parry that left the lycanthrope open for an attack.


    ¡°Skill incoming!¡± Naymond declared.


    Faili¡¯s eyes widened at the announcement. It gritted its teeth and Melmarc saw it brace for impact. Caldath¡¯s hand came up and slapped it in a blur of motion. The impact was like a thunder clap and Faili was sent flying.


    Jude had broken hierarchy. He was deserving of punishment, one that would help him understand that cowardice was not to be tolerated in crucial moments such as this. There was a time and a place.


    Another slash from Jed slammed and shattered against Caldath¡¯s back. It ignored him and pushed forward.


    ¡°Cover me!¡± Clinton bellowed, dropping his gun and charging forward. ¡°If the summoned dies, we¡¯ll be sitting ducks!¡±


    He was right. The only thing that had managed to leave any significant mark on Caldath¡¯s health bar had been that single slash from the lycanthrope¡¯s skill.


    The team plan was a mess, thrown awry by Jude¡¯s disruption. Melmarc knew he was simply making excuses, grasping at straws, but it sufficed for a moment of personal action.


    [You have used skill Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses 3/4]


    The moment the ring of mana appeared, he sent it flying forward. His aim was precise, made to strike Caldath right in the chest, the largest part of it as it approached Faili.


    Caldath froze at the last second and dived away and into a roll. With its large frame, it shattered the ground as it rolled. The room erupted in a chaotic roar of sound as its body moved over the ground. It was like boulders smashing against each other.


    It grated at Melmarc¡¯s ears.


    The ring of mana went through the air where Caldath had been and buried itself in the wall in the distance. There, it exploded, affecting nothing.


    Deep seething eyes of blood red turned on Melmarc. He saw rage and anger in them.


    ¡°You dare!¡± Caldath bellowed. ¡°You¡ª¡±


    Four red slashes slammed into its side, staggering it forward. Its bar decreased some more and Melmarc saw the grey background that was left with each decrease. As much as he wanted to dwell on if the grey was supposed to be another bar or simply a background, Melmarc was more interested in how Caldath had reacted to [Secrecy].


    It wasn¡¯t the rage and the anger but the complete and utter attention it had given the skill. It had been enough to distract it enough that it had been completely ignorant of Faili.


    Claire and Naymond stood behind Melmarc as Faili rushed Caldath once more. Caldath¡¯s attention moved from Melmarc to Faili. It was about to react to the lycanthrope when Clinton charged it from the side. The Delver and the lycanthrope had the Demi-god in a pincer attack.


    Lightning coursed through Clinton¡¯s arms charging him up. Each spark was a deep blue. Faili clashed into Caldath at the same time Clinton did with a vicious blow. They were almost in perfect sync.


    ¡°Incoming skill!¡± Naymond shouted from behind Melmarc. ¡°Power blow!¡±


    Caldath swung his sword in one hand and turned its body to the side. It sword went through the air in a speed that rivaled the blow Caldath had given the lycanthrope. Faili slammed angrily into the blade with enough force to cause an echo. As for Clinton¡¯s attack, Caldath threw a simple punch against it, as if he couldn¡¯t be bothered to attend to it.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t entirely sure what he¡¯d expected from the clash, but Clinton was sent flying back.


    All the while bullets from Nelson¡¯s gun continued to pelt Caldath all over. When Clinton was sent flying, however, the bullets stopped and Nelson dived out to catch Clinton before he landed terribly.


    Caldath was beginning to turn its attention back on Melmarc when Faili let out an ear piercing roar. It shook the room around them and Melmarc watched the roar gain all of Caldath¡¯s attention once more.


    But that wasn¡¯t all there was to the roar. Melmarc saw it as Caldath tried to take a step forward. For a fraction of a second, a very insignificant moment, Caldath¡¯s leg seized beneath it. It growled in annoyance.


    Blood dripped from the side of Faili¡¯s mouth and it smirked at the Demi-god. <<Weak,>> it spat.


    It was an odd thing seeing as it looked like Caldath was the one winning the fight. Once more, Faili and Caldath came to blows. Their exchange was a sight to behold. Caldath was fast with sword swings and thrown fists. At some point, it kicked forward, smashing one of Faili¡¯s front limb.


    Faili let out a loud roar. Its pain filled the air but it did not back down. Suddenly it was behind Caldath, its speed carried it so fast it had basically phased out of place to appear there.


    Caldath turned, arm swinging in a backhanded blow. Faili was gone once more, appearing where on Caldath¡¯s chest. Caldath struggled against the disorientation of its sudden appearance. Melmarc didn¡¯t know if it was the weight of the lycanthrope but Caldath staggered back a single step.


    <<Weak!>> Faili barked. At this point, Melmarc was beginning to think there was something behind the word, something beyond the surface meaning.


    Then Faili bit into Caldath¡¯s neck. For a creature in a room covered in crimson and clad in an armor of blood, Caldath¡¯s blood spilled golden.


    It roared in pain as a good chunk of its health bar disappeared, leaving a large amount of grey in its absence.


    Clinton charged behind Caldath as it struggled in pain, battling to throw Faili off of it. The Delver came up as high as Caldath¡¯s navel if the demi-god had one. With thunder crackling through him, light spilling from his eyes like an overcharged device, he threw a vicious fist into the back of Caldath¡¯s knee with an awkward form.


    Caldath let out a grunt as his knee buckled beneath him. As he dropped Faili released its neck only to take another bite out of it. Caldath let out another roar in pain.


    It took Melmarc a moment to notice why Clinton¡¯s form had been awkward when he¡¯d thrown the punch. It was because one of his arms dangled uselessly at his side, blood dripping from it.


    It seemed it had shattered in his clash against Caldath in his last attack.


    Nelson and Jed rushed over to Melmarc as Caldath continued to struggle against Faili. Clinton had backed away from the two. They struggle was chaotic, loud like the rumbling of mountains if mountains could rumble.


    ¡°Marc,¡± Jed said with pain on his face.


    He didn¡¯t seem hurt. If there was anything hurt about him, it would be his pride from having his skills prove completely useless.


    Melmarc gave him his attention while Nelson stood next to him, watching Faili and Caldath. The demi-god was busy trying its best to pry the lycanthrope¡¯s maw open with one hand. It could¡¯ve dropped the sword and done it with two, but it didn¡¯t. Melmarc couldn¡¯t understand why.


    ¡°We miscalculated terribly,¡± Jed said. His eyes glanced at Jude before coming back. ¡°Clinton¡¯s the only B-rank in the team, which does not bode well for us.¡±


    ¡°Incoming skill!¡± Naymond announced. He had a serious look on his face, his eyes never leaving Caldath for a moment.


    Melmarc was beginning to have the feeling that Naymond hadn¡¯t looked away from Caldath since they¡¯d stepped into the room.


    The air grew heavy suddenly. Not so heavy as to be a physical weight, but heavy enough to be noticed. It drew Melmarc¡¯s attention even as Jed continued to speak.


    ¡°We¡¯re useless against it,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve only got the one attack skill and I¡¯m not too proud to admit that its useless against that thing. And Nelson wouldn¡¯t last a second against it as a tank.¡±


    Nelson nodded.


    Melmarc had his attention on the air that was heavy. Naymond had been calling out the skills even if he¡¯d only given details on it once. How?


    Forms.


    Melmarc remembered him saying that skills had forms. Was he anticipating the skills by their forms? If that was true, how much attention was he paying? Was there some way that skills could be predicted through their forms.


    ¡°What¡¯s coming, Mr. Hitchcock?¡± he found himself asking.


    Naymond shook his head. ¡°I have no idea.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to get me to Clinton or Clinton to me,¡± Claire said. ¡°If we don¡¯t attend to his hand, he might lose it.¡±


    The rubbles of the shattered ground rose into the air slowly. Caldath was done with its struggle against Faili. It still tried to fight back but it let out no sound anymore. It was as if it was focusing on more important things.


    Melmarc was worried about what it would be. There were no questions to be asked anymore, he needed to act.


    Clinton took one look at the rising rubbles and darted behind Caldath, fist cocked back for another blow. He intended to disrupt the current skill, strike before its completion, whatever it was.


    Naymond bellowed, ¡°Skill Incoming!¡±


    Clinton threw his punch as fast as he could with lightning in his veins. His fist shot through the distance at an almost imperceptible speed. Caldath¡¯s sword arm blurred.


    Clinton¡¯s voice filled the entire space in pain. He roared with a voice that shook Melmarc¡¯s chest.


    ¡°Get him here!¡± Claire was already shouting before Melmarc saw the Delver¡¯s bloodied arm hit the wall over on the other side of the room.


    Caldath¡¯s massive sword was held high behind it. Despite it bleeding from its neck, Faili¡¯s jaws biting down, and the red of its health bar very close to empty, it grinned something golden.


    The risen rubbles gathered in the air then coalesced into thin yet long needles of stone, strong and sharp enough to pierce the earth.


    Nelson took a hesitant step forward, but Melmarc was already running. Hierarchy was often broken in the face of necessity.


    Caldath¡¯s eye ball turned to look at Melmarc, to watch him run towards Clinton who was currently on his knees still screaming, blood pooling from the injury at his shoulder were Caldath¡¯s sword had severed his arm and sent it flying into the wall.


    Melmarc would not be fast enough. He could see it in Caldath¡¯s eyes. The Demi-god knew this just as well as Melmarc did. It watched Melmarc only so that they would see it, know it. Caldath¡¯s sword would come down on Clinton before Melmarc got to him.


    And all I did was stand back and watch, Melmarc scolded himself as he ran. He couldn¡¯t remember ever wanting to be unhealthily fast, not as much as he did in this moment.


    [Secrecy], he thought. He could use it, but to do what? Best case scenario, it would terminate whatever skill Caldath was brewing. Worst case scenario the only thing keeping Faili on top of it to drain its health was a skill and he would endanger Faili, too.


    Both situations still ended up with Clinton dead.


    [You have used Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses 3/4]


    Melmarc charged the ring until he could feel the weight of it pulling him down. Caldath¡¯s gaze met his eyes and widened in what looked like horror. Panic filled its eyes and it gritted its teeth as if in self control.


    Melmarc swung his arm, throwing the ring of mana with all the strength he could muster as Caldath¡¯s sword came down on Clinton.


    The sword came down on a screaming Clinton and the ring of mana slammed into the side of the sword. It pushed it from its trajectory and the sword dug a line in the ground right next to Clinton.


    Clinton barely registered it. If he did, he didn¡¯t show it.


    Melmarc got to Clinton, the closest he¡¯d been to Caldath and scooped Clinton up into his arms. Blood drenched his arm as he picked the Delver up but he ignored it.


    The needles overhead came alive, and dropped.


    They shot down like fired weapons, arrows from bows in the sky. Melmarc had gotten Clinton but there was more to it. His brain hesitated too many ideas suddenly coming up to mind. He drowned them out as he activated the skill he needed.


    [You have used skill Knowledge is Power]


    Then he hunched over Clinton, widened his back as much as he could and braced for impact as he continued to run. He would not die. There would be no damage. But pain would greet him like a friend turned foe.


    The first needle slammed into his back and shattered on impact.


    Melmarc screamed in pain.


    [Skill Knowledge is Power is in effect]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    The second one struck him against the neck. Pain flared along with his interface and Melmarc¡¯s eyes almost rolled into the back of his head.


    He staggered once and his knees threatened to buckle beneath him. It didn¡¯t.


    [Skill Knowledge is Power is in effect]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    He pressed forward and the third needle struck. It hit him in the back of the head. This time his eyes did roll up. Everything went blank for the fraction of a second and he heard a howl in the distance somewhere.


    Pain threatened to undo him and he fought against it. He would not go down here. He would not let Clinton die.


    He was stronger than this.


    Dissonant.


    [Skill Knowledge is Power is in effect]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Melmarc¡¯s legs buckled beneath him, and he dropped to his knees.


    It had truly been dissonant. He couldn¡¯t keep going. Ahead of him, he could see Naymond stand with his hands held out in front of him.


    One of the projectiles, like massive needles as tall as a man, shattered on the ground beside Melmarc. In front of him where the others were, none of the projectiles descended.


    Behind them Melmarc watched Jude begin to cower less. His eyes settled on Caldath, widened. Melmarc didn¡¯t care to look back. Naymond looked too concentrated as Nelson rushed towards Melmarc.


    He came to a screeching halt in front of him and Melmarc acted without thought. He leaned forward and shoved Clinton into Nelson¡¯s arms.


    ¡°Run,¡± he told him, voice hoarse and weak. ¡°Run.¡±


    Nelson took Clinton but didn¡¯t go immediately. ¡°I need to take you too.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. The burst of mana from [Knowledge is Power] was still a good way from him. He had time.


    ¡°Go,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m still fine.¡±


    Nelson frowned, then rose to his feet and looked at Melmarc¡¯s back. Whatever he saw must¡¯ve reassured him because he took a hesitant step back.


    ¡°Get her to reattach his arm.¡± Melmarc wasn¡¯t even sure what he was saying. He couldn¡¯t remember getting Clinton¡¯s arm.


    Nelson took a few more steps back before turning and fleeing. It was the right choice. Melmarc knew it. Nelson knew it. There wasn¡¯t a single person currently in the room that didn¡¯t know it.


    This fight was no place for a C-rank Gifted.


    Melmarc turned as the burst of mana continued its return to him. He pushed himself to his feet and faced Caldath. There he saw where the howl he¡¯d heard in the distance had come from.


    Three of the needles had impaled Faili to Caldath¡¯s chest and the lycanthrope struggled in place, whimpering with every action. Caldath bled more from the places where the needles had pierced him to impale Faili.


    ¡°You broken child,¡± Caldath said, staring Melmarc down, taller than him even across the distance and on his knees as the red bar above him finally dwindled into none existence, leaving nothing but grey in its wake. ¡°You do not understand that you have been sent to me to die.¡±


    Its body let out a gentle red glow, one that stained its golden blood and turned it crimson. Then the glow went from gentle to feral. The chains that held it to the throne shook, then cracked. Weakened.


    Something was terribly wrong.


    ¡°I have never been one for the sword.¡± Caldath stabbed his sword into the ground. ¡°It was always my father¡¯s weapon.¡±


    Faili continued to struggle. Caldath paid it no attention.


    Whatever was happening, Melmarc did not like it. Faili pulled its jaw from Caldath¡¯s neck, leaned back as [Knowledge is Power] came to its conclusion, and roared into Caldath¡¯s ear. The sound shook the room once more but Caldath remained unfazed. Faili could¡¯ve whispered into its ear for all its reaction.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses 2/4]


    The ring of mana shone brightly as it crossed the distance to strike Caldath in the face. It made contact only to ricochet of the creature¡¯s face and into the distance.


    Caldath chuckled something dark and amused.


    ¡°I warned you, Intruder.¡± It grabbed Faili by the furs of its back and pulled. ¡°You¡¯ve been sent to die.¡±


    Faili howled and whimpered and cried in pain as it was slowly extracted from the needles that kept it impaled to Caldath. When it was free, Caldath threw it to the side like a broken toy.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses 1/4]


    Again, Caldath didn¡¯t flinch and the ring of mana bounced off his chest. Melmarc¡¯s interface came to life in front of him.


    [Demi-god Caldath has activated Incomplete skill Divine Dominion]


    [All damage taken within his domain is reduced by 99.99% for 5s]


    Caldath kept his eyes locked on Melmarc¡¯s and he raised what had once been his sword arm to his side.


    ¡°Valoth perfected the sword.¡± It flexed its fingers and the spear beside the throne shot out from its spot to place itself in his hold. ¡°Mine has always been the spear.¡±


    The spear glowed a deep red, resonating with the color of the room and Caldath¡¯s armor. The chains cracked more.


    The bodies in the walls began to move, squirm. The mouths that hung agape, contorted. From them came a terrible echo. A symphony of madness that pierced Melmarc¡¯s ears. It was like the grating of mountains in an attempt to destroy each other.


    When Caldath spoke again everything was different as its crimson aura settled like a mantle upon it.


    ¡°Oh! Damned!¡± It called out solemnly, rising wearily to its feet. ¡°Play me to victory once more!¡±


    Melmarc stared at the indicator above its head. With a grey bar, it read something new.


    [Caldath Son of Valoth (Child of the Void) (A)]


    As terrifying as everything was, the new rank, the chanting walls, the terrible music, Melmarc was more enthralled by something else.


    Caldath¡¯s indicator.


    It was red, with a hue of grey.

 EIGHTY: You Are Not Worthy

    There were probably a thousand rules it was almost breaking, but Veebee wasn¡¯t sure it could bring itself to care. For one, it was helping, for another, it was having fun.


    It looked at the interface in front of it once more before turning its head to the side.


    At the other end of this part of the path between worlds two of the sentients that had come in with the Oath of Madness sat on the ground, refusing to finally exit the portal. A man and a woman.


    They looked, from Veebee¡¯s experience watching sentients come and go, worried.


    They were unimportant so Veebee ignored them.


    [Would you like to update personal Quest for Jude?]


    [Y/N]


    Jude had been a thorn in the side of Veebee¡¯s sapient for so long that it had been all Veebee could do not go in there itself and do something about it. So when Jude had tried to leave, it had skirted the rules a bit, made sure that the thing couldn¡¯t leave.


    Veebee would¡¯ve loved to eat the sentient called Jude but somehow it felt a death within the ruins of Caldath would be a more fitting experience for him. So, it had kept him there, guided him to suffer.


    Then Jude had made his way into the final stage and had just sat in the corner like one of the worst things to ever be alive. Even void beasts understood the concept of cowardice. It was poor and sad and generally looked down on.


    You fight until there is no more fight left in you, Veebee thought. Then you fight some more. Even when all the odds are against you.


    By its calculations, Melmarc was a child by the standards of his species and Jude an adult. Yet, Melmarc had been more of what an adult should be than Jude had been so far.


    Update quest, Veebee thought.


    Just as the others had motivated themselves to help Melmarc, Veebee was going to motivate Jude to help Melmarc. It was only right.


    [Quest Update]


    [New Quest Detected for Jude]


    [New Quest- The Way Back Home]


    You have been locked in a world beyond your sentient ken. In order to make your way out, you must assist in the defeat of the Demi-god, Caldath. Failure to do so will result in an inability to leave the ruins of Caldath.


    [Objective: Assist in the defeat of Caldath]


    [Reward: Exit Portal]


    [Bonus Objective: Deal the decisive blow that slays Caldath]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery to any skill of your choice]


    The bonus objective was Veebee¡¯s own personal touch. A very unfair one by its standards. In fact, it was so unfair that it could be called unjust. But Veebee cared nothing for cowardice. There was even a possibility that it would get into trouble for doing this. But it was a void beast and would be judged by void beasts. They would understand the need to punish a coward.


    Veebee would survive whatever punishment.


    But that was if Jude chose to seek the reward for the bonus objective. If he did, then that would be greed. Greed would be his downfall. After all, there was a reason simple Sentients were never given the task of facing creatures like Demi-gods and Demon Kings and Archs and Blights and Voiders and the like.


    There was a reason you did not send a sentient to do a Sapient¡¯s job.


    Veebee looked aside once more. The Sentients were still talking. They spoke in whispers, but Veebee didn¡¯t like the fact that they had to remain here with it. Sadly, it couldn¡¯t force them to leave, not when the portal wasn¡¯t collapsing.


    Besides, the only method it could use to make them leave was to convince them to leave. It almost bristled at the very thought of it. Talking to a Sentient without an interface¡¯s command was beneath it, it didn¡¯t matter the reason.


    So it stood there, hovering in the air, right in front of the next exit portal that may or may not open. It waited.


    It had kept one of these Sentients from leaving. It wondered if the Sentient would finally find a way to leave the ruins of Caldath.


    ¡­


    ¡°Deoti, he¡¯ll understand,¡± Fendor said, voice low in a whisper. ¡°Trust me.¡±


    Deoti didn¡¯t look like she believed him. ¡°You didn¡¯t see the way I looked at him, Fen. He¡¯ll hate me. I¡¯m a terrible aunt.¡±


    Fendor wanted to point out that she really wasn¡¯t related to Mel by blood just for kicks, but he didn¡¯t. No matter how much of a comedian a person was, there was a time for jokes and a time for seriousness. This was the time for the latter.


    ¡°Mel is a good kid,¡± he said. ¡°If it¡¯s explained to him, he¡¯ll understand.¡±


    ¡°Understand that my dream has been for his dream to never come true?¡± Deorti scoffed. ¡°What kind of person claims to love you and yet stand against your dream with every fiber of their being.¡±


    ¡°Love works in the strangest ways,¡± Fendor answered. ¡°Loving you does not mean that I should pray for you to do everything you ever wanted. Support isn¡¯t the only way love can be shown. Sometimes you can oppose someone for the mere reason that you love them. You know I¡¯m right.¡±


    She looked at him and her eyes were wet, rheumy. ¡°He¡¯s wanted to be a Delver all his life, Fen.¡±


    ¡°And we all know that.¡±


    ¡°And I wanted him to never be a Gifted. I wanted him to never know the blessing of skills and classes.¡±


    ¡°Because you never wanted him to know the wicked ways of our world.¡±


    Deoti scoffed. This time, it sounded gravely derisory. Self-derisory. ¡°Thanks for trying to make me sound like a good person but we both know that I am not, Fen. I didn¡¯t even want him to have a class as simple as [Baker].¡±


    Fendor almost let out a sigh. This, if he was being honest, was tiring. Deoti was often a mess when it came to matters involving the Boss¡¯ family. Melmarc to be specific.


    So, instead of telling her, he was going to guide her to realizing the truth. It was something Lisa tended to do quite often. Something therapist did a lot.


    ¡°And why didn¡¯t you want him to gain any kind of class, Deoti?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m a shitty person.¡±


    That much wasn¡¯t really a lie. Deoti was shitty. She looked down on the [Enchanter] classes so badly that if they were a race, it would be completely and uncompromisingly racist. He knew how many times he¡¯d had to stop her from going too far in her dislike of the class.


    ¡°I get that you think you¡¯re a shitty person,¡± he began cautiously. ¡°But let¡¯s keep that aside for a moment and work with fact, just the way the Boss likes it, okay?¡±


    Deoti paused for a moment before nodding.


    ¡°Now,¡± Fendore said. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you want him to get a class? And don¡¯t pretend to think about it because I know you¡¯ve already thought about it.¡±


    Deoti looked down at the swirling clouds of deep blue that covered whatever ground they were currently sitting on. She almost looked conflicted.


    Fendor knew that she had the answer. What was happening was simply her preparing herself to articulate it into words that she would hear.


    Finally, she spoke. ¡°I didn¡¯t want it because he would find a way to use it and become a Delver. If he got the [Baker] class, he would join a Delving team as their cook or something. If he got the [Butler] class, he would join a Delving team as their butler. Mel is so enamored with being a Delver that nothing would stop him short of not having a skill.¡±


    When she was done, she looked at Fendor once more. A drop of tears rolled down her left cheek.


    ¡°And now he suspects that I¡¯m not happy with him being a Delver,¡± she said. ¡°And now that he¡¯s a Delver, he¡¯ll have questions. He¡¯ll ask questions. Questions lead to answers, Fen.¡± She buried her face in her hands. ¡°What do I do?¡±


    ¡°You apologize.¡± It was as simple as that as far as Fen was concerned. ¡°You apologize and hope for the best.¡±


    ¡°Hope,¡± Deoti said. ¡°I don¡¯t like banking on hope.¡±


    Fendor could understand that. After all, he¡¯d been banking on hope for a while now, hope that Deoti would see him as more than just that quirky and annoying teammate. That she would see him as something more. But none of it had happened. Hope had looked him dead in the eye and spat in his face.


    So, now he was running out of hope and couldn¡¯t wait to be done with it. Hope was for those that were not Delvers.


    Deoti turned her attention back to the exit portal they had just walked through. ¡°Do you think it will work this time?¡±


    Fendor looked at it. His answer was always going to be the same. Unless the portal creature did something, they would not be able to go through the exit portal they had just come in through.


    They had almost gone through the second portal at the other end when they had realized that the others were not behind them. As a team, they always ensured that everyone alive was inside the space between the portals before anyone stepped through the second portal.


    When they¡¯d noticed it, they¡¯d stopped and turned back. The exit portal, however, had not allowed them to return through it. And the portal being had completely ignored them, standing off to the corner, staring at nothing.


    Fendor shook his head. ¡°You could try, but I¡¯m ninety-nine percent sure that you won¡¯t be able to push your way through.¡±


    Deoti turned her attention to the portal being. ¡°Do you think we can convince it?¡±


    To that, Fendor snorted. ¡°Good luck getting it to talk to us.¡±


    So they sat there, feet buried in a cloud of swirling blue like the world around there. They waited, and hoped, and hoped some more. Whatever was happening within the portal was now beyond them.


    Fendor couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d felt so helpless.


    But they would be fine. The rest of the team was there. Boss was there. If Boss¡¯ presence did not ensure the safety of those that mattered, then nothing would.


    Around them, the tunnel continued to swirl blue. It was chaotic in its order. It was like watching one of those smoke artists go to work. Twirling the smoke and moving it about. It was as if someone was moving it by themselves because sometimes, he would watch it swirling one way just for it to stop and swirl the next way. Or return in reverse.


    It was, in a way, mesmerizing to watch. Fendor came to a sudden realization. He¡¯d never been in a portal that did this before. The smoke and the clouds were not new, but the patterns were. They almost seemed alive.


    ¡°How bad do you think it is?¡± Deoti asked.


    ¡°They are probably trying to clear out all the monsters,¡± he answered. ¡°Maybe they changed their minds, and Boss has decided to give Mel some experience.¡±


    ¡°What of that hand?¡±


    Fendor remembered the hand she was talking about. When they¡¯d turned back in search of the others, a hand had slipped through the portal. It had been for a moment, a few contemplative seconds before being pulled back.


    Fendor had no idea who had been.


    A while after, while he and Deoti had been trying to push their way back into the ruins, another hand had poked through. Deoti had wanted to grab the hand, pull the person in, but Fendor had stopped her.


    His argument had been that there might have been some kind of conversation going on. Not a moment later, the hand had retrieved itself back.


    Deoti had been so worried about Melmarc being stuck in the portal that for a moment she had been telling herself a lot of things, talking herself into calmness.


    It had taken a lot of convincing from Fendor for her to calm down.


    As for them sitting on the ground and waiting, that had been Deoti¡¯s idea. Once a portal was cleared, this path would slowly begin crumbling. It would not be instantaneous, but there would be signs.


    Right now, there was none. So, it meant that there were more tasks to be accomplished within the portal. Tasks that the others were probably considering doing. It was the only explanation that made sense.


    Unless, Boss has decided to look for Caldath, Fendor thought. Yet, he didn¡¯t believe so. Their Boss was a lot of possible things, but he would never do anything to put his family in jeopardy. If he had decided to take on Caldath, he would¡¯ve sent Melmarc into the portal already.


    But there was really no point in thinking about it.


    Once this place started collapsing, Fendor and Deoti would have no other choice but to go through, return to their world.


    Until then, they could only wait.


    ¡­


    Melmarc shook his head, discarded his momentary enthrallment. He had bigger issues to deal with.


    [Would you like to use EP]


    [Y/N]


    Caldath stood ahead of him, sword stabbed into the ground and spear in hand. His aura, brimming red like boiling blood in a witch¡¯s cauldron, remained about him, a mantle of devastation, staining his golden blood crimson.


    [What would you like to affect?]


    [Skill? Stats? Optimum Existence?]


    Everything was moving quickly, his interface responding with the speed of thought. Yet, it felt so terribly slow. Why hadn¡¯t he just done all this before entering this place? The answer was simple, he hadn¡¯t known what specifically he would¡¯ve needed.


    He knew he wouldn¡¯t have put it into skill or [Optimum Existence] but he hadn¡¯t known what stats would be important. He¡¯d thought he would have the time to think. Now, he realized just how stupid that idea had been.


    [EP 1256]


    [1 stat point = 200 EP]


    [1% Mastery = 250 EP]


    Melmarc had six stat points to work with.


    Caldath did not level his spear as the world sang around them, their dying cacophony a terrible discordance in Melmarc¡¯s ears. He simply stood, as if he was waiting. Melmarc knew that the demi-god was not. Whatever he had done to gather his mantle and strength around him, was what left him unable to attack.


    Melmarc needed strength. That much he knew. So he put two points into strength.


    [Strength 3(+3) -- > 5(+3)]


    He put two into speed. He would be stupid to believe that he didn¡¯t need speed.


    [Speed (+3) -- > 2(+3)]


    What else do I nee¡ª


    ¡°Incoming!¡± Naymond roared.


    Something flared in Melmarc¡¯s view. It was nothing more than a blip, almost missed. It was so fast that Melmarc barely moved in reaction to it. A line of pain flared in his neck, strong and terrible. Deep, too.


    Melmarc felt something warm trickle down his neck just as someone in the background cried out in pain.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Nelson cried in the background. ¡°Don¡¯t do this to us Claire! Please no!¡±


    Fear threatened to cease Melmarc¡¯s heart. Caldath hadn¡¯t even moved. Yet its skull head seemed to smile at him in mockery. Its spear glowed a soft red in its hand.


    ¡°You barely survived,¡± it said with a touch of amusement. ¡°You didn¡¯t strike me as the kind to survive such an attack.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s breaths were coming fast, and he added two more points into speed so that it became four points instead of two.


    I almost died.


    The thought reverberated in his head. He¡¯d almost died before, but he¡¯d never come this close. It had never felt this certain.


    Worse, with the wailing behind him, he feared to look back. Whatever attack Caldath had intended for him had hit someone else. Melmarc knew who it was. It was more reason why he couldn¡¯t look back.


    Finally, Caldath moved. He leveled his spear at Melmarc and said, ¡°Come, being. Show me what existence has brought to me.¡±


    From the list of skills [Knowledge is Power] had brought to him, Melmarc selected the one he felt would be strongest.


    [Would you like to use Call of The Wild You will not be able to renege on this decision?]


    [Y/N?]


    ¡­


    [You have selected Call of The Wild.]


    [Call of The Wild (Mastery 4.90%)


    The Gifted calls from the depths of their being affecting the world around it as they choose.


    Caldath moved. He dashed forward with terrifying speed and Melmarc activated his new skill. His body reacted as he did. It knew what was expected of it. He took a single powerful step forward, hit the ground with all his will, and roared.


    [You have used skill Call of The Wild]


    Caldath¡¯s footing seized up beneath it and it almost stumbled. It wasn¡¯t that the creature¡¯s feet had simply stopped working. It was more as if the thing¡¯s entire body stiffened for the briefest moment.


    It broke its rhythm, threw its cadence off.


    Melmarc capitalized immediately, his mind and body acting even before his thoughts were complete on what exactly was happening.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 3/4]


    The ring of mana shot forward, thrown from his hand like a discus. Caldath staggered forward and raised his spear to take the blow. There was a touch of panic in the action. It wasn¡¯t as precise or confident.


    The ring of mana struck the haft of its spear and Caldath turned the ring aside with an obvious show of strength. Melmarc took notice of it once more. The creature was weak to pure mana.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    He threw another and Caldath ducked it, allowing it blow into the air. Melmarc frowned at that. That was a wasted ring.


    He needed to be more calculative. In the distance Faili looked like he refused to be out of the battle. Melmarc could see the lycanthrope struggling to rise to its feet even with all the blood dripping from its countless injuries.


    ¡°Incoming!¡± Naymond shouted as Caldath raised its spear, point to the ceiling.


    The cacophony of songs and hymns that grated at Melmarc continued, giving them an accompaniment in their battle. It was loud and symphonic in its madness. Like a thousand off key choristers singing their parts in a perfectly discordant rhythm.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t need anyone to tell him that this was the song of the damned. Souls that had given up. Souls that would never be more than the less they had become.


    Melmarc moved, hoping to be faster than Caldath.


    [You have used skill Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 2/4]


    He saw its range, a hollow and translucent blue. It was a dome that would encompass Caldath and more. And he threw it, all the force he could muster buried into the single action.


    The ring of mana struck the ground just in front Caldath¡¯s feet as its spear brightened in its red. Then the skill activated.


    The spear let out terrible sparks of red, activating at the same time that [Secrecy] did. Caldath turned to look at the weapon in momentary shock before its eyes turned down to where the ring of mana had been only a moment ago.


    ¡°You¡ª¡±


    Whatever it had to say died on its lips at what it saw.


    Melmarc had trusted his skill, acted on it. Even if whatever Caldath had been trying to do had come to fruition before [Secrecy] activated, Melmarc believed that the simple act of the skill activating would still deactivate whatever skill it was.


    So, the moment [Secrecy] had hit the ground, he¡¯d moved.


    Now, Caldath found himself being charged by six feet and possibly four inches sixteen-year-old boy with rings of raw mana wrapped around his hands. It was nothing compared to the creature¡¯s near eight feet of height.


    The weight on Melmarc¡¯s hands was there and he rushed forward, but the rings were not as heavy as he remembered. Not as heavy as he thought the rings of mana he¡¯d summoned would be. In the blink of an eye, he was already skidding to a stop in front of Caldath.


    Now they both stood within the domain of [Secrecy].


    Since the beginning of this fight, they had been struggling within Caldath¡¯s domain, but now it was different. As small as it was in comparison, [Secrecy] was Melmarc¡¯s.


    And in this moment, they were in Melmarc¡¯s domain.


    Caldath spun its spear with lightning speed, angered to great levels. The point of the spear struck downwards, lightning fast. Melmarc took a boxer¡¯s stance and weaved to the side. With how quickly he had gotten here and come to a stop, his legs would not react on time. He knew this, so he weaved his body, rolled it to the side.


    The spear missed him and tore a gash in his thigh. Pain flared in Melmarc¡¯s mind, threatened to undo him. He refused to let it. Receiving so much pain from the safety of [Knowledge is Power] had made something else of him.


    Gritting his teeth so hard that a dentist would pale at the sight, he rolled his torso once more, just as he¡¯d been taught for so many years now, and threw a power right hook. It slammed into Caldath, a powerful body blow.


    It was like throwing an uppercut from the side.


    The sound of contact was like a muffled cannon. It reverberated throughout the confines of [Secrecy]. Pain flared in Melmarc¡¯s fist, but he allowed it take none of his attention. Instead, he let it wash over him.


    His fist bounced off of Caldath¡¯s body while the body blow staggered the creature. Melmarc thought he heard a gasp but couldn¡¯t really be quite sure.


    It didn¡¯t matter. There would be no time to think. He was going to burn bright and burn fast. This would not be a drawn-out battle. He would work fast and keep Caldath¡¯s attention on no other person but him.


    Grab it!


    Just as quickly as the thought came, his other hand shot out. Its fingers took purchase within the crevice of Caldath¡¯s armor, a chink just between its upper armor, near its waist. The moment his fingers took purchase, Caldath jumped back.


    To Melmarc¡¯s surprise, the creature left the ground, his muscles tightened to the point of pain, and he brought it back down.


    Shoulder throw!


    Power Slam!


    Punish it!


    Melmarc rolled his shoulder into the attack. He turned with all his strength and punched it in the stomach.


    This time when the echo of impact exploded, he heard the groan slip from Caldath. Then the spear turned again but didn¡¯t attack. Melmarc¡¯s eyes moved about, constantly cataloguing. It sought out weaknesses as easily as it sought out strength and Caldath¡¯s health just below its indicator.


    Above!


    Duck!


    Take it like a beast! Show it fear!


    The thoughts were all his, thoughts that would usually be buried within the recesses of his mind. They were the thoughts you had when your bully stood in front of you, but you were too scared of the repercussions that would come from acting. They were the thoughts that would as easily put you in trouble as they might get you out of them.


    Melmarc threw his head forward. Releasing Caldath, he threw his head straight into the creature¡¯s stomach.


    His head rang on impact. A powerful headache took a hold of Melmarc even as he realized how stupid his action had been. Still, it helped to destabilize Caldath. The creature didn¡¯t stagger once more, but its blow never completed its trajectory.


    Behind it Faili was back on his feet. Blood adorned him and he had a feral look on his face.


    ¡°Power Blow!¡± Naymond shouted.


    Where? When?


    Dodge!


    Roar!


    Take it!


    Fight Back!


    Melmarc turned his head skyward, straight into the raised hand. His mouth opened wide in something inhuman.


    [You have used skill Call of The Wild]


    A roar shook the entire room even though it was focused on Caldath.


    Caldath¡¯s fist seized up as its body had once before. Melmarc capitalized on the opportunity and swung a vicious kick into one of its legs. As his leg moved, he took advantage of the momentum, and his interface lit up.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 3/4]


    A ring of mana appeared around his ankle. Its weight threatened to pull Melnarc¡¯s foot down. It slowed the momentum of the kick but did not stop it. Melmarc¡¯s leg slammed into Caldath¡¯s in a vicious strike that swept the foot off the ground.


    It destabilized the creature and it staggered to the side. Melmarc allowed it. They were no longer confined to a single space. The only advantage the creature could create was space. Melmarc wasn¡¯t going to allow that.


    As Caldath staggered, Melmarc rushed it.


    [Secrecy] had run its course. Melmarc¡¯s domain was done. But it did not mean he was so honorable a child that he would not spam it.


    [You have used skill Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 2/4]


    The ring of mana hit the ground two steps behind Caldath. Melmarc saw the creature¡¯s eyes follow the ring. He watched the creature try to stop itself from falling back.


    There was honor in a duel, you gave your opponent a fighting chance and tried to best them at their best. It was common in a video game amongst friends. But this was not a duel, neither was it a video game.


    With the weight of [Rings of Saturn] on his hands and one leg, Melmarc barreled into Caldath. He ran it into the domain with all the force he could muster as [Secrecy] exploded once more.


    The both of them went down and to the ground. Melmarc scrambled for supremacy as they went down even if he was already on top.


    Caldath¡¯s spear shot forward at an odd angle. It was, from what Melmarc knew, its only real threat. As long as he kept [Secrecy] active, there would be no skill to worry about.


    A [Faker] avoiding skills.


    [Faker] classes around the world would laugh at him if they heard this. Melmarc didn¡¯t care.


    He moved at an odd angle just as the spear came. Refusing to relinquish his position on top of Caldath, there was not much he could do in evasion. Pain flared as the spear tore his side only partially avoided.


    He couldn¡¯t help the cry that slipped from his lips. But it didn¡¯t stop him. With both hands raised over his head, he brought them down on Caldath¡¯s torso.


    The creature was so wide that Melmarc doubted both of his hands together were as wide as the thing¡¯s heart. The blow echoed. Caldath gasped once more.


    ¡°You fight without honor!¡± it spat, golden blood spilling from its lips.


    Once upon a time, Ark had made Melmarc watch a medieval movie about war. It had had a soldier who fought without honor. Once, at the end of a battle, he had been accused of fighting without honor. The man¡¯s response had been simple.


    ¡°Look to the corpses that bathe the field,¡± he had said, ¡°and ask them what gift honor has brought them.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t agreed with the idea then, but he believed he had understood it. But now he knew that he had been wrong then. He had understood the words, comprehended them and as such had felt he knew what they meant. He had not.


    Now, however, fighting for his life, knowing that there was a very high chance that Claire was dead, slain by an attack that should¡¯ve taken his life, he knew.


    He understood.


    Honor had its place. And this was not it. You only fought the honorable with honor when honor was on the line.


    Melmarc scrambled up, bleeding, and threw a fist at Caldath¡¯s face. The first of¡ª


    The ring of mana around it flickered, then died out as his fist struck the creature¡¯s face. Without the ring of mana, a punch had become a slap.


    A massive grin split Caldath¡¯s face as it realized what had happened. As it felt the new weight of the blow.


    ¡°Honor has fled you,¡± it said with a widening grin, voice grating, commanding in the backdrop of that horrible hymn the walls of the room continued to sing. ¡°Now it will guide me!¡±


    Melmarc dove forward and threw an elbow into the thing¡¯s massive head. It connected with its bony jaw and Caldath¡¯s head bounced off the ground. The creature was silenced for a moment.


    Melmarc threw three more, strikes he¡¯d been taught were too devastating to use in any kind of sparring in his defense classes. Each blow struck Caldath in the jaw. Each time its head bounced against the ground, sending its jaw ricocheting into the next elbow.


    With each strike, Melmarc could feel his elbow failing him. He couldn¡¯t put in more power because each blow hurt him terribly. It was like striking a shotput with all his force.


    [Secrecy] shattered around them and Melmarc wondered if it was just him or the skill had lived shorter than the one before it.


    He didn¡¯t care.


    Rip its head off! His mind barked. Rip it off with your mouth!


    Melmarc opened his mouth and dived forward. Why? He had no idea. He wanted to do it. He didn¡¯t just want to slay Caldath, he wanted to decimate it. He wanted to ruin it. Crush it. He wanted to leave any who saw the outcome in fear.


    But most importantly of all. He wanted to rip its head off with his teeth.


    Caldath¡¯s hand shot out of nowhere, straight for his head. Melmarc opened his mouth wider.


    [You have used skill Call of The Wild]


    Caldath¡¯s hand seized, but only for a moment. Before Melmarc could do anything, the hand covered the remaining distance. It clamped around his head, large enough to cover it completely. Then it squeezed.


    Melmarc was not going to die here. The moment pain filled his head, another skill came alive.


    [You have used skill Knowledge is Power]


    The pain did not stop. Melmarc did his best to hold on to his sanity and his consciousness as the pain filled his head.


    Before long someone started screaming. It was loud and chaotic. Terrifying.


    Melmarc tried to blurt it out as the pressure of the hand tightened around him and pain filled him. The scream grew louder. Something stabbed him in the stomach. His vision blotted out by the massive hand around his head, he didn¡¯t know what it was.


    All Melmarc knew was that it was painful. He needed to fight back. He needed to do something. Anything.


    [You have used skill Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 1/4]


    The hand abandoned him quickly. The body beneath him moved in a frenzy, scrambling to leave. It destabilized him.


    The moment Melmarc¡¯s sight returned to him, the pain fled him. It disappeared as if the madness had never been there. It only took Melmarc a moment to realize that the screaming had been so close and loud because it had been coming from him.


    <<MOVE, CHILD!>>


    The words came from behind Melmarc as he staggered back, thrown of Caldath¡¯s body as the creature scrambled away from him. He tried to twist himself out of the way as he fell backwards. With one last act in his decent, he threw the ring of mana forward, aimed it with enough accuracy.


    He felt his arm adjust itself as if it was an age-old muscle memory. The ring left him and embedded itself in Caldath¡¯s chest.


    Caldath¡¯s hand shot up immediately, batting at it. For all its strength, nothing happened. The ring exploded in its chest. It created its domain with Caldath at the center and Melmarc watched a chunk of the grey bar above its head disappear.


    There was barely twenty percent of what had been there remaining.


    With the explosion, a chunk of Caldath¡¯s chest amor was blown out, exposing a desiccated chest.


    Faili fell on the creature with a vengeance. Its first attack was unfortunately a skill. Melmarc watched red lights trail along its claws before disappearing abruptly. Faili stood, flabbergasted for a moment.


    Caldath capitalized on the moment of stunned confusion to slap the beast off it. Again, Faili was sent flying, soaring through the air to hit the ground. However, unlike before, he rose back to his feet quickly, growling in anger or maybe it was annoyance.


    Melmarc was on his feet too and was already moving. When [Knowledge is Power] returned, hitting him, he gained no benefit. [Bless Your Kindness] did not activate.


    [Skill Knowledge is Power is concluded]


    [Skill Bless Your Kindness does not take effect]


    The first thing he did as he ran, Faili following right behind him, was kick at the air. The ring of mana still around his ankle shot forward. Its weight had been disturbing his cadence and balance. Now that he was free of it, he ran better.


    As for the ring, Caldath batted it aside with its spear. This time, its face was contorted in anger, unadulterated.


    It leapt back, crossing enough space to pull it out of the confines of [Secrecy] and Melmarc knew they had lost the upper hand. What he and Faili needed to do now was focus the creature¡¯s attention on only the two of them in order to keep the others alive.


    ¡°Go left!¡± he said to Faili, voice raised over the symphony of terrible hymn, hoping that the fact that it could understand him would not lead it to believe that he¡¯d been able to understand it all along.


    Faili changed its approach, darted out to the side. Caldath stamped the butt of its spear on the ground without taking its eyes off Melmarc.


    The spear flickered as if trying to remain in reality and leave at the same time. The rubble rose around it from the ground. Melmarc knew the skill but didn¡¯t know how to counter it. [Knowledge is Power] was done. Still on cool down, he couldn¡¯t use it.


    The rubble came together. Forged above Caldath¡¯s head they were spikes ready to inflict pain, bring death. Melmarc easily counted twelve.


    He kept running, keeping the creature¡¯s attention on him. Faili was going at it from the other side. They would place the creature in a pincer attack if it let them.


    Caldath raised a regal hand, unbothered. He pointed it at Melmarc. When he dropped it, the spears above it shot forward.


    Melmarc hoped to God that the increase in speed would help. What use were the stats if they did nothing. But they did something.


    The moment he stepped to the side, a spear shattered against the ground where he had pain. Pain seared in his leg from the injury Cakdath¡¯s spear had inflicted on him. His thigh throbbed and so did his side. But he did not succumb. They slowed him but did not stop him.


    He dodged again and another spear shattered. And he dodged. And dodged. And dodged.


    Melmarc avoided over ten spears, moving and switching, staggering and stumbling. He was locked in place for the space of seconds that seemed like minutes.


    But for all his speed, he wasn¡¯t perfect. He was not a speedster. One of the spears took him in the hand. It pierced through his palm and impaled itself to the ground. It traveled at least half way through his hand before stabbing into the ground.


    Pinned down, Melmarc cried out in pain. It was not a metaphorical expression. It was not the grace of the hurt. It was not the pain of a hero in some fairy tale told where dragons were slain and demons were vanquished. No. It was the pain of a child. The unadulterated cry of a child experiencing true pain for the first time.


    Unlike the pain he felt when under the protection of [Knowledge is Power], it did not come and go in an instant. It lingered and stayed. Ever growing. It screamed in his hand and battered at his brain. Tears streamed down his eyes, poured terribly.


    Melmarc was a child, sixteen. This was no place for him. He wasn¡¯t supposed to be fighting monsters and keeping people safe. He wasn¡¯t supposed to be¡ª


    I won¡¯t lie down and die!


    Melmarc pulled himself forward and stepped to the side. The final spear missed his right shoulder by barely an inch and shattered against the ground.


    All the spears had shattered except the one that had gone through his hand.


    Why?


    Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was unnecessary. The why of it would not save him from it. What he needed to do now was escape. He couldn¡¯t be pinned down.


    Staying one place is choosing to die, he thought, tears streaming down his cheeks, snot threatening to fill his nose.


    I won¡¯t die here. He pulled his hand forward, tried to pull it up and out of the spear so that the spear would go through him. Pain exploded in his head, and he let out another cry. He abandoned the endeavor as quickly as dropping an object that was too hot.


    Ahead of him, Faili was going another round with Caldath. He was losing. The lycanthrope was landing a few blows of its own, phasing in and out of reality just to appear in a third location. He used his clawed attack. He roared with what Melmarc assumed was [Call of The Wild]. He used a skill that made him grow slightly larger so that his muscles bulged even from beneath all his fur.


    He battered Caldath with all his fury. He shaved more from the grey bar. He gave Caldath hell.


    Caldath gave better than it got.


    In the end, Faili lost as Caldath ran its spear through the lycanthrope¡¯s chest. It impaled him through the chest and pinned him to the ground.


    Faili struggled against his position on the ground, clawed at the spear in his chest, teeth snapping forward in defiance.


    Tears still streaming from his eyes in his ever-growing pain, Melmarc found himself wondering how the lycanthrope could even afford to move so violently with a spear through his heart. The pain of a spear in Melmarc¡¯s hand was already threatening to undo him. How he still remained unconscious was beyond him.


    Caldath leaned down until its head came face to face with Faili¡¯s. It was just out of reach to avoid being bitten off. If Caldath was worried about miscalculating the distance, it did not show it.


    It looked into Faili¡¯s eyes and uttered a single word.


    ¡°Weak.¡±


    Then it ignored the lycanthrope. It stood back to its massive hieight then looked up at the bar still above its head. There was barely anything left of it.


    ¡°Pathetic,¡± it muttered in derision. ¡°How weak I have become to almost be bested by a child and a mutt.¡±


    It let out a sigh then. Around it, its bloody crimson aura was dissipating. Its golden stains of blood returned to their golden color, a sharp contrast against its crimson armor.


    ¡°I was great once,¡± Caldath muttered, turning its head in the direction of the others. ¡°Powerful.¡±


    Melmarc panicked.


    Caldath was no longer brimming with power, and the symphony of the walls was dying out, slowly dwindling into nonexistence. Silence had almost returned to the room.


    Still looking at the others, Caldath reached a hand for its spear. Again, Melmarc wanted to draw its attention back to him. Faili was still snapping and struggling but to no avail. As for Melmarc, it broke him to know that he couldn¡¯t draw Caldath¡¯s attention.


    He wanted to scream and shout and roar. But the pain in his hand and side and thigh were a constant throbbing. They were a terrible thing. They demanded his attention, reminded him that death stared him in the face with a firm hand on his neck.


    Despite all his will to keep the others alive, his fear of dying was proving stronger. His voice choked in his throat, and he failed to cry out¡ªto draw Caldath¡¯s attention.


    Caldath¡¯s hand stopped before it reached the spear. ¡°Do not despair, boy. That fear you see, many greater than you have succumbed to it. Greater and older.¡±


    It did not pick the spear up, instead, it flicked it with a finger. The spear fazed in and out of reality, flickering once, and pain exploded in Melmarc¡¯s head.


    He roared and cried as a translucent spear appeared right in front of him. It stabbed his foot, pinning him down to the ground.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done what is expected from a child.¡± Caldath flicked the spear again and pain exploded once more as it impaled Melmarc¡¯s second foot.


    Melmarc wept.


    For the first time in a while, he turned his head to look at the others. Nelson had Claire cradled in his arms. She was motionless, bleeding from her chest. Clinton was pale, too pale.


    Naymond was on his knees, eyes empty and dazed. Blood spilled from his mouth.


    Even holding onto Claire, Nelson was pale. He looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulder.


    Melmarc wanted to be angry at them. He was about to die here yet Nelson and Jed just stayed there, staring ahead, silent.


    Then it came to him. The symphony of the walls. The broken divinity his interface had been telling him about. He had only been able to function by his status as [August Intruder]. What if there was more to the skills than that? What if the others had never been meant to enter this room?


    If all that was true, then Melmarc had led them to their deaths. That was not something he could live with.


    There were too many emotions that could motivate a person. Just moments ago, fear of death had choked his cry in his throat and kept him from calling out to Caldath.


    Now fear of leading everyone present to their deaths motivated him.


    ¡°YOU FUCKING BASTARD!¡± Melmarc roared at Caldath.


    Caldath turned its face away from the others to look at him. ¡°Are you finding your honor now, child?¡±


    Melmarc had no answer. At least none in words. Instead, he chose defiance.


    [You have used skill Call of The Wild]


    It was stupid and useless. Even as the sound spilled from his lips, ripped from his throat, he knew it would do nothing.


    As expected, Caldath¡¯s entire body seized up for only a moment. The creature frowned. Its eyes narrowed slowly, and it flicked its spear with its finger one more time.


    Pain exploded in Melmarc¡¯s other hand. He didn¡¯t need to look to know all his limbs had been impaled. Pinned to the ground.


    Faili pulled itself up suddenly, almost pulling itself out of the spear. Caldath saw this and drove a fist into the lycanthrope¡¯s face. It snatched its face up in its hand and uttered a single word. The word dripped with mockery.


    ¡°Weak.¡±


    The next moment, as Melmarc dealt with his new pain, Caldath appeared in front of him.


    ¡°Be proud, child.¡± It held his face gently in its hand. ¡°You have done something most in your place have failed to do. Most greater and older. Warriors. Be proud for, though you have no honor, you have done something great.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°However, I cannot let you be,¡± Caldath continued. ¡°In my world, once upon a time, I would¡¯ve been kind and generous. I would¡¯ve rewarded you for your bravery and achievement. I would¡¯ve allowed you live, perhaps giving you a place amongst my ranks. But, alas, I cannot. After all, you wield that abominable mana like a mockery of divinity. It is disgusting. A weapon of a mortal too scared to be divine.¡±


    It shook its head as if it was a solemn father talking to a child.


    ¡°I have not impaled you out of cruelty,¡± it continued. ¡°Instead, I have taken your ability to use that power. My life hangs on a thread so I will not risk dying to something so disgraceful and dishonorable. Had you another skill, one that belonged to you, perhaps I would¡¯ve fought this battle to the very end. But you do not.¡±


    It spared a momentary glance at Naymond before returning its attention to Melmarc. ¡°Your soldier tried to turn my skill against me and paid the price for his actions. Honorable, it was. Stupid, but honorable. In respect for you and his actions, I will allow those alive to leave this place as long as they vow to never return. But you must die.¡±


    Melmarc raised his head to meet Caldath¡¯s gaze. The creature¡¯s eyes were empty, void of emotion, yet its voice brimmed with honesty.


    The fight was not out of Melmarc, though. Caldath¡¯s honesty be damned, he wasn¡¯t going to just lie down and die. He wasn¡¯t a sacrifice. He was not here by choice, so death was not a consequence he was supposed to bear with whatever honor Caldath was so obsessed with.


    Melmarc refused to die here.


    A wicked grin split Caldath¡¯s lips.


    ¡°Yes!¡± it declared with a feral grin. ¡°Stand proud, boy! For even without honor, you are strong! And for that, I will grant you the gift of a proper death.¡±


    It stood back to its full height and raised its hand. Its spear disappeared from Faili and appeared in its hand. It aimed it downwards.


    ¡°The strong, even without their ability,¡± it said, spear poised. ¡°Always die on their feet.¡±


    Melmarc met the creature¡¯s gaze in defiance.


    I will not die here. His hips moved slightly. I refuse.


    Caldath¡¯s eyes were drawn to his hips and its eyes widened. It struck forward with its spear in anger and rage and panic.


    Melmarc¡¯s interface flashed in front of him.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    A massive ring of mana shone to life around his waist and blasted forward. It slammed into Caldath before its spear could cross the distance and sent it flying.


    Caldath slammed into what was his throne before falling to the ground. Above its head no bar existed. All that was there was its indicator of deep red with a grey hue and its name.


    [Caldath Son of Valoth (Child of the Void) (A)]


    Its spear fell maybe five feet out of its reach, lying on the ground, covered in its own golden blood, Caldath, son of Valoth, reached for the weapon. Its hand didn¡¯t reach it.


    ¡°Even to the end,¡± it muttered.


    To everyone¡¯s surprise, Jude was suddenly standing in front of it. He stood, a trembling mess, but remained there.


    By the life of him, Melmarc didn¡¯t know how the man had done it. He didn¡¯t know how the man had gotten there. But he had.


    Jude looked down at the creature. He picked the massive spear with both hands, struggling with the action. The moment he did, the red aura began gathering to him. The spear that impaled Melmarc¡¯s hand crumbled to nothing and the others that kept his other limbs pinned vanished as if they had never been.


    Caldath looked up at Jude. ¡°You are not worthy.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Jude agreed. ¡°But I will be rewarded.¡±


    Then he struck with the spear.


    ¡­


    A more unfair portal than this had never graced Jude before. Nothing about what he was experiencing made any sense. His interface had been speaking to him as if it was addressing him. First had been when it had asked him not to do too much when he¡¯d entered the portal. Then it had quite literally told him that it didn¡¯t like him as it kept him from leaving the portal.


    Then, not long ago, it had updated itself. It had demanded that he help the boy kill the terrifying creature, offering a reward of increased skill mastery if he killed it himself.


    As a C-rank Gifted with a D-rank growth potential, five percent increase in skill mastery was a steal. It was arguably three years¡¯ worth of growth. Only a fool would refuse it.


    So here he was, against all possibilities, standing above the terrifying monster. It was as if fate¡ªor some greater being¡ªhad orchestrated all this. He was meant to be here. The world had made it possible for him to stand in front of Caldath in its final moments and deal the finishing blow.


    Caldath looked up at him. ¡°You are not worthy,¡±


    No one knew that better than Jude. Melmarc was the worthy one. In fact, Jude knew that he was arguably the only one in this group that was without worth. But there was a reason he was a mercenary. There was a reason that was the life he¡¯d chosen.


    He knew what he was.


    So, he looked down and met the monster¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± he said. ¡°But I will be rewarded.¡±


    Then he struck.


    The spear hit the monster in the eye and his interface came alive in front of him.


    [You cannot slay this creature]


    [You do not deal damage]


    [A Sentient Being cannot take the life of a Sapient Being of Broken Divinity]


    ¡­


    [You have done too much]


    ¡°What the hell?¡±


    The words were barely out of Jude''s mouth when Caldath¡¯s weak hand moved.


    Off in the distance, Jude thought he heard Naymond say a single word. But perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it was nothing but a figment of his imagination.


    ¡°Incoming.¡±


    Pain was nothing but a momentary pinprick. It was almost imagined.


    Regardless, darkness took Jude violently.

 EIGHTY-ONE: One Without Honor

    The entire room was silent. The symphony of the damned had been cast into nonexistence. The walls held silence in its stillness. Faces with mouths that had once moved stood statuesque. Imploring hands implored no more. Yet, the flames of white sat carefully atop open hands. That did not change.


    Each face held a grey indicator above their heads. Countless as the faces on the walls. Above them was a single harmless title.


    [Damned(F)]


    Pain still riddled Melmarc¡¯s mind. It danced and hopped upon his brain, filling him with almost nothing but itself. Only one hand had been truly impaled. Blood dripped from it in terrible rivulets, stained the ground and marked it with his presence.


    As for his other limbs, while the pain remained, there were no physical damages.


    Faili lay helpless on the ground to the side. He was bloodied, too bloodied. At a point it sounded as if it was whimpering, like a dying thing. There was no surprise there, it was meant to be dying. Still, its eyes focused on Melmarc. It watched, waited.


    For what? Melmarc did not know.


    In the distance, the others remained the same. Nelson¡¯s paleness was fading, though. The color was returning to his face. Claire, however, had not changed. She still bled. She still didn¡¯t move.


    Jed sat helplessly on the ground. He looked ashamed and relieved at the same time. But there was also something in his face. A kind of pain and loss, as if something had been taken from him. Something that had been necessary to be here.


    Courage, Melmarc thought, identifying it without knowing. No. His will.


    As for Clinton, the leader of the team, he sat with a broken arm, a shattered arm. His other shoulder remained without an arm of its own, but at least it was no longer bleeding. Clinton stared at Claire¡¯s body with pain in his eyes. Guilt.


    Melmarc felt like he understood it. He had cost Claire her life and Clinton his arms. All for what? To kill a Demi-god that they didn¡¯t need to kill.


    And at what cost?


    Naymond¡¯s shoulders rose and fell very slowly. He remained on his knees, however. Blood still dripped from his mouth.


    With no Healer, there was nothing that could be done for them.


    Gritting his teeth in annoyance at how easily he was accepting Claire¡¯s death, like a casualty of war, Melmarc turned his gaze away from them. As he panned it, he took note of Faili¡¯s continued whimpering. The Lycanthrope¡¯s breaths were coming slower now. Its torso wasn¡¯t heaving so heavily anymore.


    Melmarc''s eyes settled momentarily on Clinton¡¯s arm, perfectly sliced off by a massive sword. It rested in the corner. A trail of blood mapped out how it had flown through the air, leaving blood scattered about, before hitting the ground and sliding to a stop where it currently was.


    Moving past it, Melmarc¡¯s eyes settled on Jude.


    The Delver rested against the wall. He sat down, eyes open. His entire chest was a bloodied mess. His vest was soaked in blood so deep that the red was obvious. It was as though he¡¯d taken his vest, dipped it in blood, then put it back on.


    His eyes were almost empty, hollow. But they saw. They moved. Twitching ever so slightly, they looked as if they were trying to search for something. Melmarc wasn¡¯t so sure what it was and found that he couldn¡¯t care.


    So, he didn¡¯t try to care.


    He had wasted too much time on the unimportant. Tasks awaited him. Something existed that had to be done.


    With a step to begin his journey, he dragged himself through his pain and approached Caldath¡¯s fallen form. The task of walking brought him so much pain. It was as if his mind tried to comprehend too many things at the same time.


    Caldath watched him approach, lying on the ground. Lazy eyes stared from broken eye sockets.


    Melmarc got to the beast. He stood far enough away that the creature¡¯s arms would not reach him if it tried.


    ¡°Oh, child of no honor.¡± Caldath¡¯s voice was a weak whisper. Golden blood streamed from its lips. ¡°Have you come to end me, or have you come to gloat? Have you come to revel in your victory?¡±


    Melmarc had no answer to give.


    Caldath gave out a weak sigh. ¡°Alas, it matters not. Every child faces its demise in the end. Even I. Son to a broken father. Father to a nonexistent son. Husband to a betrayed wife. I have spent my years searching for a way to liberate my people from the chains of existence. I have failed.¡±


    Melmarc stood there. The creature had judged itself. Husband to a betrayed wife, it had called itself. What had it done to its wife?


    ¡°In the end...¡± Caldath¡¯s breathing was slow. ¡°In the end I was bested, not by a warrior or a god, not by a being of existence, but by a boy. A child.¡± Its eyes steadied, focused. They trained themselves on Melmarc. ¡°I do not know if that says a lot about me, child, or if it says a lot about you. Can you dare to hazard a guess?¡±


    Melmarc could not. But if he were to hazard a guess, he would say that it said more about Faili.


    Without the Lycanthrope, none of them would¡¯ve survived the room. None of them would¡¯ve walked out of this fight alive.


    ¡°No honor,¡± Caldath muttered. ¡°Even now, you would not grant me the honor of a final conversation. Even now, you would not grant me the respect I am due.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s mind suddenly went to that one room he¡¯d walked past with Saxi and Naymond and the others not so long ago. The corpses. The death.


    ¡°Did you grant the damned honor?¡±


    Caldath¡¯s gaze tightened. ¡°The damned are damned because they have given up their honor.¡±


    ¡°And who demanded it of them?¡±


    ¡°I did not not.¡± The creature¡¯s gaze went to the walls and came back. ¡°They knew what was necessary and suggested it. It was the price of freedom.¡±


    Melmarc looked at the walls. They did not look free.


    There was no point to this conversation, he realized. It would not help him in any way. It would neither unburden him nor grant him useful information.


    ¡°Remember that you were the aggressor here, child,¡± Caldath said suddenly. ¡°Remember that you came into my domain when you did not have to. You killed my people when you did not have to. You are the intruder. I am merely a victim of your presence. I am the offended, the aggrieved.¡±


    It was true, but Melmarc already knew that. He also knew what would¡¯ve happened if what had been done here hadn¡¯t been done here. A Chaos Run was good for nobody back home.


    So, they were the bad guys brought here to cause havoc.


    But why is the Chaos Run always different from the portal? The question came to him unbidden. Why was the consequence of not defeating the things in the portal invasion from a different group of things?


    Something wasn¡¯t right.


    Caldath coughed up golden blood and Melmarc¡¯s eyes moved to his indicator. The health bar remained absent, gone as it had always been since that last attack.


    Caldath looked down at its own blood and sighed.


    ¡°I was a man once.¡± Its eyes grew forlorn, half in this room, half elsewhere, remembering. ¡°It had been glorious. Beautiful. It had been good to be mortal. To know that I could grow and die. And then I had to do what I had to, emboldened by the flames of my own ambition, in search of my own greed.¡±


    ¡°And did you achieve what you wanted to?¡± Melmarc asked before he could stop himself.


    Caldath nodded once. It was a simple action. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And what did it cost you?¡±


    Caldath¡¯s eyes moved once more, took in the walls around them. The damned. It settled on the sword stabbed into the ground at a distance.


    Sadness settled in its eyes. ¡°Everything.¡±


    Melmarc saw one similarity between him and Caldath in this moment. Caldath was beginning to seem like a possible future. Emboldened by the flames of its own ambition it had gone to any extent to become powerful.


    Melmarc, too, wanted power. He wanted to be strong enough to end conflict by simply being present.


    And what are you willing to sacrifice to get there?


    Once upon a time, the answer would¡¯ve been very close to anything. There were things he would never have done. But just how sure was he? The moment you believed that one thing was worth sacrificing, didn¡¯t that mean that it became a slippery slope from there?


    You would sacrifice one thing, then another. Slowly, ever so slowly, you would sacrifice more. For greater power you would have to sacrifice something greater. And as long as the exchange felt equal, at some point in time, you would sacrifice something too great.


    As Caldath had.


    That¡¯s not who I am, he thought with firm determination.


    He would not gain what he wanted at the cost of everything. He refused to believe so. Still, he looked at Caldath and wondered.


    ¡°You do not wish to die by a mockery of divinity,¡± he said. It was not a question.


    Caldath nodded. ¡°In your victory, end me with some modicum of honor, One without honor.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes moved to the spear lying on the ground. He remembered how Jude had stabbed Caldath in the eye with it and nothing had happened.


    He returned his attention to Caldath. ¡°I do not have another way to end you but the abilities that I have.¡±


    Caldath¡¯s eyes moved to the spear. ¡°One who lives by a weapon of their choice should be ready to die by that weapon. Take my life with my spear.¡±


    ¡°Someone has already tried that and failed,¡± Melmarc pointed out.


    ¡°Because they were not worthy.¡±


    That caught Melmarc¡¯s attention. ¡°They were not worthy?¡±


    ¡°He is Sentient,¡± Caldath said. ¡°He cannot bring an end to me even if the entire existence depended on it. I am of Broken Divinity. I am not allowed to die by the hands of just anyone.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°What of the others?¡±


    Caldath snorted in derision, then coughed up blood. ¡°The mutt might have stood a chance¡­ perhaps. But not the others.¡±


    They were doomed to die the moment they entered this room.


    ¡°But I can bring end to you?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Caldath nodded slowly.


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc checked the bar above Caldath''s head again and saw nothing. Maybe he should stop talking and just kill the thing. But he was curious. He wanted to know.


    ¡°Because you are no longer Sentient,¡± Caldath answered. ¡°You are a being capable of walking the path I walked and achieving something greater than I. You are Sapient. One with enough command of the world to establish a domain anywhere. At least some day.¡±


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Melmarc looked to the side, checked the distance between him and everyone else. Then he lowered his voice as he asked another question. An important question.


    ¡°Were you an [August Intruder]?¡±


    ¡°Promise to end me now and I will give you the answer,¡± Caldath said. ¡°Run me through with my spear and you shall have it.¡±


    Melmarc hesitated. Could he trust the creature?


    ¡°Lie to me,¡± he said.


    Caldath shook its head. ¡°One with honor does not lie.¡±


    ¡°If you wish to choose the way I will end you, then lie to me,¡± Melmarc insisted.


    Caldath frowned, then it let out a resigned sigh. ¡°Those that stand at the peak of existence are completely with honor.¡±


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc had not been expecting that. Not the dissonance but the information.


    ¡°If I stab you with your spear, will you¡­ die?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    With the answer in his mind, Melmarc moved. He walked up to the still massive spear and picked it up. It was heavy, so much so that he had to use both hands. Jude¡¯s eyes settled on him as he did so.


    The Delver was dying but was not yet dead. Melmarc could not bring himself to feel pity for the man. Not after all that he had done.


    Hefting the spear on his shoulder, he walked over to Caldath¡¯s body. Crimson smoke rose from the weapon and gathered to him. But they did not touch him. They simply hovered about, drawn but unsure.


    Melmarc came to a stop and found his way on top of Caldath. He stood over the creature and aimed the point of its spear to its heart. The weapon was heavy.


    ¡°Strike true, One without honor,¡± Caldath said, staring up at him. ¡°Strike true.¡±


    Melmarc did.


    In one action, Caldath let out a terrible grunt as its spear ran it through the heart.  Despite its pain, Caldath looked pleased.


    Some level of empathy had led Melmarc to this action. Or perhaps Caldath had simply tricked him into it. Considering everything that had happened to this world, whatever it was, he doubted Caldath deserved any respect in death.


    But what did he know? In the back of his mind, there was a voice that told him that he didn¡¯t know enough to judge. He didn¡¯t know enough to pass punishment.


    It was not his place.


    What was his place, however, was to ask his question and gain his answer.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer,¡± he said. ¡°Were you an [August Intruder]?¡±


    Caldath groaned in its pain, its life coming to an end. One part of its face was dying into decay. ¡°That is only one of many Sapients, One without honor,¡± it said. ¡°I was something else. I was an Oath.¡±


    ¡°What Oath?¡± Melmarc¡¯s voice trembled slightly as Caldath finally turned to dust.


    The dust was golden as the creature¡¯s blood and was blown into the wind. The spear vanished after. However, Melmarc was still given his answer.


    It echoed in the emptiness of a demi-god¡¯s demise.


    ¡°I was Madness.¡±


    His interface came alive a moment after.


    [You have Slain Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void)(A)]


    [You have slain a Demi-god]


    ¡­


    [You have gained EP 7890]


    [Total EP 8146]


    Melmarc stared at the numbers. The absence of Caldath¡¯s form beneath him made him stumble into a short fall. As he did, eyes taken from the interface, he felt his body balance itself. He landed on his feet. Pain flared in his thigh and his side as he fell back and landed on his ass.


    A new notification popped up.


    [You have slain a Demi-god]


    [You have gained the title Demi-god Slayer]


    [Effect: +21% damage increase when facing a Demi-god.]


    [Effect: +21% damage resistance when facing a Demi-god]


    ¡­


    [Designation August Intruder detected]


    [Title evolution detected.]


    [Title Demi-god Slayer is now Slayer]


    ¡­


    [You have gained the title Slayer]


    [Effect: +21% damage increase when facing any Sapient Being.]


    [Effect: +21% damage resistance when facing any Sapient Being.]


    [Effect: +15% damage increase when facing any Sentient Being.]


    [Effect: +15% damage increase when facing any Sentient Being.]


    All Melmarc could do was stare. Those were a lot of notifications. And what exactly is a Sapient Being or Sentient Being?


    There had to be more to it than just their basic definition.


    [Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void) has fallen]


    ¡­


    [To the victor goes the spoils]


    [Congratulations, August Intruder! You have received Sword of Valot]


    Melmarc heard the sword stabbed into the ground vanish. It appeared on the ground next to him a moment after.


    [Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void) has fallen]


    ¡­


    [To the victor goes the spoils]


    [Congratulations, August Intruder! You have received Spear of Caldath]


    The spear that had disappeared with Caldath¡¯s death appeared next to Melmarc as well in all its crimson glory.


    Each weapon flanked him on both sides. On his left was the sword, wider and taller than him, lying on the ground. On his right the spear lay on the ground, as long as him if he was thrice placed atop himself.


    How am I supposed to use this? he thought, looking at them.


    [Caldath, Son of Valoth(Child of the Void) has fallen]


    ¡­


    [To the victor goes the spoils]


    [Congratulations, August Intruder! You have received Armor of Valot]


    A metal chest landed in front of him. It was adorned in an embroidery of weaves like branches of a grotesque tree. It was a deep metal color.


    A groan pulled Melmarc from his thoughts. He turned, looked in tis direction and found Faili still alive. While his breathing was slow, growing slower by the moment, he stared at Melmarc with a touch of recognition in its eyes.


    <<I thought you were a child.>> He stared at Melmarc with eyes that let him know that he didn¡¯t expect him to understand his words. <<I was wrong. You might not be an adult, but you are not a child.>> His eyes suddenly focused elsewhere, stared at the air in front of him, and Melmarc thought he saw him frown. <<Less than what is usually given.>>


    The Lycanthrope slowly changed form after that. First his blood turned blue and slowly began evaporating in the form of grains of sand. Then his fur turned the same color. Then his entire body.


    In moments, Faili was gone. Melmarc¡¯s interface popped up.


    [Summoning of Failikdajafut Nilk¡¯taifrigth Hkdott (Slasher)(A) has been canceled]


    Faili was gone. No sign of his existence having ever been was left. Finally, Melmarc was left alone with those he had come in with, those from earth.


    [Exit Portal detected.]


    An indicator appeared and Melmarc looked to the side. It wasn¡¯t far from him. His eyes settled on the entrance to the room and the orange barrier was gone.


    Standing there was his father. Axe, Saxi and Lisa stood behind him. From Melmarc¡¯s perspective it looked as if his father was standing between them and whatever would come out of the room.


    The tension eased out of all four of them when their eyes settled on Melmarc. Axe¡¯s eyes that had been hardened, ready for anything, eased into something soft, gentle.


    Then his eyes focused on the hobble of Delvers, on Clinton¡¯s state and Claire¡¯s body. It moved from them to Melmarc, then back to them. It took Melmarc only a moment to realize that Axe wasn¡¯t feeling bad for the Delvers, it was for Melmarc. He probably wondered how Melmarc would handle the weight of the loss.


    Melmarc''s father walked in, eyes scarcely on the walls around them. Nothing had changed with the death of Caldath. The faces remained there, the white flames remained there. The damned remained unliberated, without free¡ª


    [Personal Quest Ruins of Caldath Completed]


    ¡­


    [Personal Quest: Ruins of Caldath.]


    You have walked upon the ruins of Caldath, ancient city of debauchery and hate. Its inhabitants have sold their soul to Caldath and have lost it eternally. Only their servants, too unimportant to be granted such misfortune, remain. Conclude the ruination of Caldath and free all from their eternal damnation.


    [Objective completed: Defeat Demi-god Caldath.]


    [Reward: +5% Mastery.]


    ¡­


    [Dear Melmarc Jay Lockwood, would you like to use reward 5% Mastery?]


    [Y/N]


    As Melmarc considered it, Lisa made her way among the Delvers. Saxi walked up to Jude and squatted next to him.


    ¡°He''s dead,¡± he confirmed, voice without inflection.


    Axe nodded.


    Lisa placed a hand over Claire¡¯s face and closed her eyes. She looked up to meet Nelson¡¯s eyes. They were red, rheumy. The Delver had wept.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the loss,¡± she told him, apologetic. ¡°It is a difficult thing to have to live with.¡±


    He looked down at her voice, pained. ¡°We didn¡¯t even stand a chance.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes we do not,¡± she said, understanding. She looked back at Melmarc¡¯s father. ¡°Sometimes our duty is simply to be present, to bear witness.¡±


    Nelson shook his head, crestfallen. ¡°This is no way to live. To be beaten down by nothing but a song. To be rendered useless.¡±


    Lisa paused, hesitated. She considered her next words. Yet, even as she spoke them, it was clear that she wasn¡¯t completely sure of her words.


    ¡°I could¡­ take the pain away,¡± she said, slowly. ¡°That¡¯s if it is something that you want.¡±


    Nelson gazed into her eyes, obviously seeking out the truth of her words. S-rank Gifted were powerful, but this was something truly great.


    In the end, he shook his head.


    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I have to remember this. I must.¡±


    Lisa nodded carefully before turning her attention to the next person. She moved from Claire¡¯s body and Nelson to squat beside Clinton. The man still looked lost, eyes empty.


    ¡°Clinton?¡± Lisa said, voice kind. ¡°Can you hear me?¡±


    If he could, Clinton didn¡¯t say a word. If he could hear her, he gave no signs of it.


    ¡°If you can hear me,¡± she said. ¡°Know that I am coming in.¡±


    She placed a gentle palm against his face. There was something kind about it, something solemn, too. They stayed like that for a moment. In that moment, tears streamed from Clinton¡¯s eyes.


    Then his face crumpled, and he started crying. Lisa took her hand from his face.


    ¡°I cannot say if it was the right choice or not,¡± she told him. ¡°But take comfort in knowing that it was a choice you made. If anything, making a choice at all is right. Know this.¡±


    Then she moved on to Jed.


    Saxi walked over to Melmarc, ignoring everyone else. Axe stood next to Melmarc¡¯s father, quiet. Both men were a striking figure, Melmarc¡¯s father standing larger than a large Axe. Outside the room, a portal opened, a deep blue with swirls.


    Lisa squatted in front of Naymond. ¡°I think the [Sage] is¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Naymond interrupted her, speaking all of a sudden.


    It was enough to startle her. She flinched back for a moment. ¡°How the hell? Your mind was empty.¡±


    Naymond cracked his neck from side to side. There was still blood from his mouth and dripping down his nostrils. He wiped it off with a with the back of his forearm, staining his tattered sleeves, and got up.


    Lisa got up with him.


    Naymond staggered once but regained his composure, caught himself before he fell.


    He shook his head once. ¡°That kickback¡¯s a bitch. Never tried it on a Demi-god before.¡±


    ¡°Tried what before?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bitch on an Oath,¡± Naymond went on, placing a hand against his head and ignoring Lisa as he walked over to Melmarc. ¡°But that one was a doozy.¡±


    Next to Melmarc, Saxi looked down at the ground.


    ¡°Spoils of war,¡± he said. ¡°Looks like quite a haul.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t need to look down. Two weapons and an armor. On your first Delve, even if its unofficial.


    Now that he thought about it, he wondered if every time he went into a portal from now on it would be this trying. Will I have to fight a Demi-god all the time?


    ¡°Pick it up,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father said. ¡°It¡¯s time to leave. We¡¯ve spent a lot of time here.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what he was talking about but listened. He bent down, reached for the sword and froze. How am I supposed to carry all this?


    ¡°Just touch it and you should be fine,¡± Naymond said casually. At the look Melmarc gave him, he waved a dismissive hand. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine¡­ for now.¡±


    The way he said the last part let Melmarc know that he wasn¡¯t talking about whatever had just happened to him. He most likely meant the part about Melmarc becoming his new commanding officer.


    Melmarc bent and picked up the sword first. The moment his skin came in contact with the hilt of the sword, the weapon twitched out of existence and reappeared in his hand.


    Its hilt settled firmly in his hold and it had somehow reduced itself to a size befitting of him. It was still a large sword though, its width as wide as three palms and its curved blade almost six feet long. It was in a scabbard, black as scorched metal with cracks of molten running along its length.


    Melmarc admired it. If anything, it was a daunting weapon.


    He looked from side to side only to have Melmarc hold his hand out. ¡°I¡¯ll hold that for you.¡±


    ¡°You probably shouldn¡¯t,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father said, but Melmarc had already given Saxi.


    The weapon dropped, almost pulling Saxi down with it.


    ¡°Axe,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father said.


    ¡°Got it, Boss.¡± Axe was already moving.


    Saxi shook out his hand in pain. ¡°Shit weighs a ton.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t say,¡± Naymond chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t go picking things that don¡¯t belong to you.¡±


    Axe picked the weapon up easily and hefted it over his shoulder as Melmarc bent and picked up the spear. Like the sword, it blinked out of existence, returning almost immediately to his hand. It fit his size easily, a regular spear for someone as large as he was. The crimson aura, however, was gone.


    Melmarc turned. ¡°What do we do with the box?¡±


    ¡°Let the big guy handle it,¡± Saxi said, turning to walk away.


    Axe picked up the box and hefted it over his second shoulder. Lisa took the time to grab Clinton¡¯s severed arm.


    ¡°I know a few Healers,¡± Lisa said when Clinton gave her a sad look. ¡°If there is any spark of life left in it, they can reattach it. But I must warn you that I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be able to use it like you once did.¡±


    Clinton nodded. Anything was something at this point.


    Nelson kept Claire¡¯s body in his embrace, so Saxi thumbed to the side of the room. ¡°What about him?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to look to know Jude was the one being indicated.


    His jaw tightened just thinking about everything the Delver had done. Attacking him before they¡¯d made their way to the castle. Cowering in the corner during their fight.


    I¡¯ll be rewarded, Melmarc remembered hearing him say. With the thought came the realization that Jude had known what would happen with Caldath¡¯s death. Melmarc didn¡¯t know how, but he¡¯d been sure of it.


    The man had allowed everyone risk their lives only to try and claim the glory.


    Melmarc opened his mouth to speak but his father beat him to it.


    ¡°Bring him,¡± he said, eyes meeting Melmarc¡¯s.


    ¡°Alright, Boss.¡± Saxi jogged over to the corpse and lifted it over his shoulder unceremoniously.


    The walk towards the exit portal was silent. Melmarc walked, staring at the black indicator above the portal. But that wasn¡¯t all that there was to it. Right now, he could feel the portal. The indicator was just an added assistance. It was an odd feeling.


    Also, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like his dad had answered Saxi¡¯s question about Jude¡¯s body to prevent him from making that decision.


    Melmarc tried not to think too much about it. If he was being honest, he was happy for it. He wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d wanted to make that decision.


    When they got to the portal, his father made him go first. With the spear in his hand, Melmarc took a deep breath and placed his hand against the portal. He breathed a sigh of relief when his hand dipped into it.


    Then he crossed the portal.


    The moment he was on the other side, he was drowned in blue so deep it was like an inky color. Still, he could see the things around him.


    As the others walked in behind him, Melmarc¡¯s eyes settled on the most obvious thing in the portal.


    Veebee hovered in the air, staring down at him and the others. Its face was empty, save two dots that served as eyeballs. Regardless, Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but feel like the thing was excited.


    It pointed its stub of a hand at Saxi, specifically Jude¡¯s corpse.


    It made only one request.


    ¡°I¡¯m hungry, can I have him?¡±

 EIGHTY-TWO: Good Weird

    <<I¡¯m hungry, can I have him?>>


    The portal creature¡¯s stub of a hand was pointed at Saxi and Saxi¡¯s bladder gave out a little. He felt a drop of fear stain his underwear in the form of a drop of liquid. He¡¯d never in his life imagined that this was how he would end.


    Taken by a portal being.


    Would Madness fight for him? He knew the answer but felt like he could hope. Still, he took a reluctant step back. No matter how invincible the thing might be, he refused to go down without a fight. He would not.


    Saxi would scratch and claw and bite if he had to. He would¡ª


    Wait.


    Even in his fear, his mind realized something. It¡¯s not talking to Boss.


    The creature stood, hovering in the air in front of Melmarc. It stared at him with its two dots for eyes and had no mouth. Its stub of a hand, however, didn¡¯t move from Saxi.


    Why¡¯s it in front of the Boss¡¯ kid?


    Melmarc waved at it. The action was like that of a child meeting a new friend they¡¯d just made a day before in kindergarten.


    ¡°Hi, Veebee,¡± he said, kindly.


    The creature paused. It looked at its hand and cocked its head to the side in confusion. It was an action very unlike what any portal creature Saxi had been graced with the displeasure of seeing would ever do.


    After a heartbeat of a moment, the creature looked at Melmarc¡¯s raised hand. Surprisingly, while he¡¯d stopped waving, Melmarc still had his hand raised as if he was waiting. The creature¡¯s dot for eyes narrowed into horizontal slits. It looked at its stub of a hand that had once been pointing at Saxi then raised it slowly.


    It waved awkwardly. <<Hi, Melmarc.>>


    Melmarc gave it a proud smile. The creature¡¯s eyes turned into vertical slits and Saxi could swear it looked proud of itself.


    What the hell is going on? He thought, confused. Is my life in his hands?


    None of what was happening was making sense. Why was a portal being talking so casually to someone that was not an Oath. A child for that matter.


    Then Saxi remembered something that had happened when they¡¯d first entered the portal. Madness had said something about the Law of Bloodline.


    Is that what¡¯s happening?


    It was a possibility. But the creature had said that the law did not apply because there was no one to uphold it. Ultimately, it didn¡¯t matter for now. What mattered was that the creature was no longer interested in him.


    The creature dropped its hand finally and lowered itself to the height of Melmarc¡¯s face. It drew a little closer to him so that it was close enough to reach out its short arm and touch the boy¡¯s face.


    ¡°Too close, Veebee,¡± Melmarc said with an almost amused chuckle. ¡°I can¡¯t see you properly.¡±


    The creature, Veebee, hovered back a little. <<This better?>>


    Melmarc nodded.


    Veebee¡¯s eyes moved slowly to the spear in Melmarc¡¯s hand. Then it panned to the chest and sword with Axe.


    <<I see you win,>> it said. <<I told you quest easy.>>


    Melmarc¡¯s expression dulled slightly.


    Veebee¡¯s attention focused on it immediately. It gave him a confused look. <<You not like quest?>>


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°The quest wasn¡¯t easy, Veebee. It cost us a lot.¡±


    <<Us?>> Veebee looked at the others. Its eyes settled on Saxi once more. It pointed at him. <<This one not good friend. Acceptable loss?>>


    Saxi paled further. What did I do?


    Melmarc looked at Saxi and, by the gods he was thinking about it. Saxi almost lost his mind. Was Melmarc really considering handing him over to the creature? He looked to Madness for help and found his boss¡¯ attention fixed firmly on the portal creature.


    Saxi was the last person to join the group, so his bond wasn¡¯t as strong. He¡¯d never met Madness¡¯ kids before. Despite that, he¡¯d always been treated as a valued member of the group. Here, now, however, he was worried. If a member of the group was to be sacrificed for any reason, it sounded like it was supposed to be him.


    As an S-rank Gifted, he was surprised to feel his knees grow weak at the thought of dying here. I don¡¯t want to be eaten by a weird looking creature.


    Veebee¡¯s eyes narrowed at him, then it looked at Melmarc. <<What does weird mean?>> it asked.


    Saxi paled. It can read thoughts.


    He sure as hell didn¡¯t want a creature that wanted to eat him finding out what he had just called it in his head. He wanted to reach out to Melmarc and stop him but was too late.


    ¡°Odd,¡± Melmarc said, oblivious to what had just transpired. ¡°Different. Where I come from it isn¡¯t always a positive thing.¡±


    <<Veebee weird?>>


    Melmarc paused in thought. In the end, he shrugged. ¡°A little. But not in a bad way.¡±


    <<Veebee good weird?>>


    Melmarc smiled a little. ¡°Veebee good weird.¡±


    Veebee shot Saxi a dark look¡ªat least it felt dark. <<Veebee good weird.>>


    As if realizing something, Melmarc asked, ¡°Are you sure that was the easiest quest, Veebee?¡±


    Veebee nodded. <<Fastest quest, too. Other easy quest too slow.>>


    ¡°What was it?¡±


    <<You to make Demi-god submit,>> it said. <<Accept you as master.>>


    Melmarc frowned. The boy knew that there was likely no way he would¡¯ve made that happen.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t have been possible.¡±


    <<Veebee know,>> the creature said, proud. <<So Veebee give easy quest.>>


    The boy got his own quest, and it was intentionally easy?


    Saxi had never heard of such a thing.


    Then Veebee pointed at him again.


    Saxi almost groaned visibly. What did I do?


    <<Veebee still hungry, can Veebee have?>>


    Was it just him or was it intentionally trying to sound cuter right now?


    ¡°You want to eat him?¡± Melmarc asked casually, as if Saxi was actual food.


    Veebee shrunk away visibly. <<Yes?>>


    Around him, Saxi wasn¡¯t the only one that was looking confused. Lisa just stared as if she was in the most impossible situation of her life. Axe looked more like he was preparing to fight a giant. It was funny, considering he was kind of gigantic and had a skill that actually made him gigantic.


    The others¡ªthe civilians¡ªlooked like they¡¯d already wet themselves twice. Clinton¡¯s lips were quivering, and Jed intentionally refused to make eye contact.


    If Saxi was scared, then those guys were terrified. And Saxi was far worse than scared.


    Melmarc let out a sigh. ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°You can have the man but not the woman.¡±


    Saxi wanted to drop Jude and run but his legs didn¡¯t obey him. They refused to move. In all his life, he¡¯d never been paralyzed with fear. Not even before he was Gifted.


    I can¡¯t go out like this, he scolded himself. I can¡¯t.


    He had to put up a fight. He would rather die than be eaten alive. If his legs wouldn¡¯t move, he knew something else that would move. He reached inside himself for his skill and pulled at it.


    Veebee shot him a look and Saxi felt his skill suddenly fizzle out.


    His interface popped up.


    [Skill Sense of the Survivor has been sealed.]


    [Skill Path of Violence has been sealed.]


    [Skill Wandering Meister has been sealed.]


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    The creature wouldn¡¯t even let him die like a man. Saxi¡¯s eyes suddenly stung.


    Veebee looked at Melmarc. <<This one mean. I don¡¯t like.>>


    Melmarc looked back at Saxi, confused. ¡°He¡¯s nice, though. I like him.¡±


    <<He tried to attack Veebee.>>


    Melmarc cocked a brow at that. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. Saxi watched some form of realization dawn on the boy¡¯s expression.


    It was kind of stupid. What? Did you expect that I wouldn¡¯t fight back? I¡¯m a Delver, all we do is fight.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Melmarc said respectfully. ¡°It doesn¡¯t want you. It wants Jude.¡±


    Saxi reeled back as if physically struck. ¡°Wait, what?¡±


    A collective sigh went through the others, and Saxi realized that they¡¯d all been holding a breath he didn¡¯t know of.


    Melmarc looked back at everyone. Confusion colored his expression.


    Saxi, however, was filled with relief. ¡°If you want him,¡± he moved Jude¡¯s corpse from his shoulders and held it out with both arms, ¡°you can have him. Never really liked him to begin with.¡±


    Veebee shot him a look of obvious anger and a line slowly grew along its face in the place a mouth should be.


    ¡°Veebee, no,¡± Melmarc said almost immediately.


    Veebee paused just as quickly. Dots for eyes blinked twice as if confused.


    Melmarc pointed at Saxi. ¡°He¡¯s a friend.¡±


    <<Other friend try to harm you.>> Veebee pointed out.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a friend, Veebee.¡±


    Veebee blinked out of existence and appeared in front of Saxi. <<And this one friend?>>


    Saxi couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t bring himself to. Melmarc didn¡¯t seem the least bothered. He was like the owner of a dog that was currently ferocious and barking at a stranger letting you know that the dog doesn¡¯t bite, calm and collected.


    It was troubling to know that the boy viewed such a terrifying creature, capable of talking down on an Oath, the way he was treating it.


    ¡°Veebee,¡± Melmarc said, an odd note in his voice.


    <<Yes,¡± the creature answered.


    Melmarc tilted his head a little as if in thought. ¡°Are you intentionally being intimidating, right now?¡±


    Veebee reached down and picked Jude¡¯s corpse up very ceremoniously. It levitated itself back to Melmarc, corpse in hand. It made sure to keep a distance. Far enough to not crowd Melmarc¡¯s face but close enough to not be far.


    It sent shivers down Saxi¡¯s spine. What the hell is this kid?


    Veebee held jude¡¯s corpse up by the leg so that it dangled at the knee. Then it opened its mouth. It was a terrible sight to behold. Jagged lines splitting open, moving darkness deep within, three tongues of fire, war and famine, hate and despair. Pain.


    Saxi blinked twice and someone fell to his side. Clinton had passed out.


    As for Veebee, its mouth was closed back. Nonexistent. It was giving Melmarc an apologetic look. As for Melmarc, he had a grimace on his face.


    <<Sorry,>> it said, chastised.


    ¡°Is it okay if you do it later?¡± Melmarc asked, voice slightly imploring.


    Veebee nodded. Then, with a flick of its wrist, it threw Jude¡¯s corpse into the portal¡¯s wall. Something about the portal shifted. Jude was sucked in too quickly.


    Naymond inched closer to Melmarc¡¯s back as if it would protect him from something. The [Sage] shut his eyes tight as he did.


    <<[Sages] see too much,>> Veebee said, matter-of-fact. <<Sentients trying to be Sapient. Not nice. Veebee not like.>>


    Melmarc nodded as if he understood. ¡°But [Sage] is friend.¡±


    Veebee did another surprising thing. It snorted. <<Too many friends.>> It pointed at Madness. <<And Oath?>>


    ¡°He¡¯s my dad.¡±


    Veebee cocked its head. <<Dad?>>


    ¡°Father,¡± Melmarc explained.


    <<What is father?>>


    Madness stepped forward. ¡°Direct superior under the Law of Bloodline.¡±


    Veebee paused. <<Oh, that.>>


    It didn¡¯t sound pleased. Then it turned thoughtful.


    While it remained thoughtful, Melmarc looked around. His attention focused elsewhere. It was on the space around them, the cloudy blue, the constant swirling and turning. He looked down, squinted. Turning his head to the side, he looked at the space Jude¡¯s corpse had been thrown into. There was nothing odd about it, except for the fact that a corpse had vanished into it.


    At least nothing that Saxi could see.


    Apart from Veebee¡¯s silent thought at the relationship between Melmarc and his father, things hadn¡¯t stopped happening. They just happened quietly. Lisa was seated on the ground, her entire leg covered in the mist. She had Clinton¡¯s head propped up on her lap so that his face was above cloud level.


    No one knew if inhaling the cloud directly had any impact on a person. Personally, Saxi believed it had as much effect as coming close to the portal. To the Gifted, it was nothing. To those not gifted, it could kill them or grant them temporary powers.


    But that wasn¡¯t where Clinton¡¯s mind was. His momentary distraction was in how calmly Lisa stroked Clinton¡¯s head. It was in how gentle she was, almost loving.


    Saxi knew she¡¯d used her powers on the Delver. Now he wondered what she¡¯d seen for her to treat him this way.


    He did lose an arm, though.


    ¡°Why does this place feel different?¡± Melmarc asked suddenly. He focused on Veebee and the creature shied away a little, like a child caught doing something they shouldn¡¯t be.


    <<Because you have changed?>>


    Saxi only knew it was stretching the truth because it had given the information as a question instead of an answer. It was funny how it acted like a child around Melmarc.


    And what¡¯s with the tone of speech?


    Saxi knew for a fact that the creature could talk normally. In fact, he knew it could intimidate with its speech. He had been there for its conversation with Madness. So this was definitely all nothing but a game of pretense.


    Melmarc, however, didn¡¯t seem to notice. There was that, along with the fact that he was still looking around.


    Also, what did the creature mean when it said that Melmarc had changed?


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s it.¡± Melmarc shook his head. He looked around again. ¡°I know what you¡¯re talking about but that¡¯s not it.¡±


    Veebee dropped its head in defeat and the swirls in the tunnel changed. It happened slowly, gently. One moment, they were the only ones in the tunnel, the next Deoti and Fendor were seating down in one corner.


    They had not been there before.


    <<Sorry,>> Veebee apologized.


    Fendore had an arm wrapped around Deoti¡¯s shoulders. It looked as if he was comforting her or something along those lines. It wasn¡¯t necessarily unheard of. The way they both jumped apart, however, was an interesting thing to notice.


    ¡°Portal manipulation goes against the laws,¡± Madness said simply.


    Despite the casual tone he used, he was slowly beginning to look impatient, like he had somewhere to be urgently. There had also been the thing about them running out of time while they¡¯d been in the castle.


    Is there something he¡¯s trying to avoid or get to on the other side?


    He hadn¡¯t seemed like he was in much of a hurry before they¡¯d found Melmarc, though. Saxi found himself wondering if the time constraint had something to do with finding Melmarc in the first place.


    Deoti recovered from their initial jump and rushed forward. She came straight for Melmarc only to draw up short when Veebee imposed itself between her and the boy.


    ¡°Veebee,¡± Melmarc said gently, when the creature turned to look at him, he gestured around with a raised hand. ¡°Everyone here is a friend.¡±


    Veebee cocked its head to the side. <<Veebee friend too?>> it asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Veebee friend, too.¡±


    The creature hovered to the side.


    Deoti walked forward, eyes moving between Melmarc and Veebee in confusion. Fendor looked equally confused as he approached them.


    ¡°What was that about?¡± Deoti asked in a low voice, as if she didn¡¯t know that the creature could hear her.


    She came to a stop in front of Melmarc while Fendor walked up to Saxi. He tipped a quick salute to Madness.


    ¡°Good to have you back, Boss,¡± he said. Madness spared him a nod, eyes still on the creature so he turned to Saxi. ¡°When did you guys get here? We thought you¡¯d eventually walk in through the portal.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve actually been here for a while,¡± Saxi answered. ¡°I think the creature just kept you guys from noticing us the way it kept us from noticing you guys.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Fendor looked at the creature, then returned his attention to Saxi. ¡°Then what changed? Did Boss negotiate again?¡±


    Saxi shook his head slowly, making sure the creature wasn¡¯t looking at him. He pointed a discreet hand at Melmarc. ¡°Boss¡¯ kid scolded the thing.¡±


    Fendor paused.


    Good. I¡¯m not the only one that finds this confusing.


    Fendor looked at Veebee, then at Melmarc where Deoti still held him in a conversation while Veebee waited impatiently. He looked at Veebee again, then Melmarc. Deoti looked like she was about to go to tears.


    In the end, he shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re joking, right?¡±


    Saxi shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m as serious as a pig¡¯s orgasm.¡±


    Fendor made a face. ¡°First, eww. Second, you¡¯re sure he scolded it not negotiated with it?¡±


    Jed snuck in to join them. ¡°I saw it with my own two eyes.¡±


    Fendor gave the Delver a strange look, as if wondering why the man felt he was a part of the conversation. Regardless, he said nothing.


    Jed must¡¯ve taken it as a form of permission because he added. ¡°What exactly is that thing. It¡¯s taking everything I have to just stand here. There¡¯s just a part of me that keeps waiting to die.¡±


    That was surprising, Saxi had never wondered how lower ranked Gifted felt about portal creatures. To people like him, those in the S-rank, it felt like standing in the presence of something that can kill you in the blink of an eye.


    Jed just described it as something that was going to kill him. It was just a matter of when.


    ¡°It¡¯s above your pay grade,¡± Fendor answered easily. Then he turned his attention back to Melmarc and the creature¡¯s attention on him. ¡°It looks annoyed.¡±


    ¡°Mannerisms,¡± Saxi guessed. ¡°You ever seen one of those things show an expression.¡±


    ¡°Never,¡± Fendor answered. ¡°Not even bad ones.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s doing it for Boss¡¯ kid.¡±


    Fendor gave him a look. ¡°And why would it do that?¡±


    ¡°No idea.¡± Saxi shrugged. ¡°But judging from its behavior towards him, I¡¯m guessing the kid¡¯s got some kind of control over it. It even gave the kid his personal quest. From what I gather, they talked about it before it gave him.¡±


    ¡°Never heard of that happening before¡­ wait.¡± Fendor looked around, took a head count. ¡°We¡¯re missing one civilian.¡±


    ¡°The thing took him,¡± Saxi said. ¡°Took permission from the kid first.¡±


    Saxi took pleasure in the steady increase of confusion on Fendor¡¯s face. It was good to have confirmation from someone with more experience dealing with these things that he wasn¡¯t the weird one here.


    Fendor opened his mouth to say more when Melmarc¡¯s voice cut him short.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a question, Veebee,¡± the boy said.


    Veebee perked up at that. <<Veebee should have answers.>>


    ¡°What exactly is an fhtwouyhd?¡±


    <<Oh. Veebee give answer.>>


    Fendor frowned and looked at Saxi.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No idea what he just said,¡± Saxi answered. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡ª¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± Madness roared. It was a terrifying sound, like the one his thoughts made when they were linked through Lisa¡¯s skill.


    Everyone grew alert. Jed staggered then fell to his knee. Nelson abandoned Claire¡¯s body to clamp a hand over his ears and curled in on himself.


    Deoti¡¯s hands were already moving. She was casting some kind of spell already.


    Then the worst thing happened. Madness reached for the creature, hand open as if to take it by the neck.


    It ignored him and disappeared.


    Then Melmarc disappeared.


    ¡­


    ¡°What exactly is an [August Intruder]?¡± Melmarc asked out of genuine curiosity. For everything he knew, he doubted anyone really knew anything. And everything he knew was really nothing at all.


    All he knew was that there was something special about the designation, but that was all.


    Veebee gave him a look, as if it had been stupid all this while. <<Oh,>> it answered after a moment. <<Veebee give answer.>>


    Then the swirls in the portal shifted a little. Something had been odd since Melmarc had entered the portal. It felt as if he was wearing a shirt that was supposed to be his size, but the collar kept leaning to one side, exposing more skin on one shoulder than the other. And each time he tried to adjust it, it kept on feeling as if the shirt was incapable of being adjusted, like there was a fundamental problem with how it had been crafted.


    Melmarc¡¯s attention was still on the shifting swirls when he heard his father¡¯s voice.


    ¡°NO!¡±


    It was a loud and terrifying thing. Melmarc didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever heard his father raise his voice in his life.


    To his side, Melmarc saw his father burst forward, hand outstretched towards Veebee. A moment after, his interface popped up in front of him.


    [Void-beast designation 12849 has used Existential Authority World Warp on you.]


    [You are being moved.]


    Melmarc had no idea what that was. A question was about to come to mind when everything shifted.


    Then he found himself standing in the middle of a busy road on a rainy night. The streets were illuminated by street lamps and the buildings around him, skyscrapers all of them, were lit up to give the night light.


    One specific building had a massive television. On it were two men. One was a bit orange with an odd blond hair style. He wore a suit and was shaking hands with a taller, larger man who didn¡¯t look happy to be there.


    Below them was a news tag. It read: Ex president of the united state shows support for Player, Norman, as he embarks on his portal run into the infamous SS-rank portal.


    Melmarc turned his head, confused. He found Veebee hovering in the air beside him.


    ¡°Veebee,¡± he said, heartbeat growing into a panic. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    Veebee had one unbothered answer. ¡°Earth.¡±

 EIGHTY-THREE: Existence

    The rain was heavy. Surprisingly, however, Melmarc felt nothing of the cold.


    The street had a few people traversing it, walking with umbrellas over their heads or covered in raincoats of varying colors, mostly yellow. There were others that walked around in hoodies, allowing the rain to drench them.


    It looked like a regular night in a business district. Wet, tarred roads, black and shimmering, reflecting the lights from the skyscrapers around. The buildings were mostly covered in glass that did the same task of reflecting the light from other buildings.


    The side walks were equally occupied with the movements of a handful of people trying to get from one point to another. White floors, dark from the absence of daylight served as sidewalks. The steady pitter patter of rain was a slight distraction to the slow mummering of constant movement.


    Melmarc saw a boy with shoes he¡¯d never seen before, not that he was some kind of master of shoes. The boy was a good head shorter than him and his hoodie was drenched to the point of dripping.


    The tallest building held a television that displayed an old man with a fair skin that seemed to lean more towards a dark shade of orange than anything with a touch of blond hair, styled in a funny manner. He shook hands with a taller more stoic looking man who looked as if he would rather be anywhere but on television. According to what Melmarc was seeing, the Player was named Norman.


    According to the information scribbled beneath them, one had been a former president of the United States¡ªmost likely the short man¡ªand the other was a Player.


    Despite Veebee claiming that this was Earth, two pieces of information told Melmarc that it was not. The first was the fact that Melmarc knew the presidents of his country, all of them, from the first to ever be elected to the current one. Two, the word ¡®Player¡¯ was not of Earth.


    It meant one of two things: Veebee was either lying, or there was something he wasn¡¯t getting.


    Melmarc had a feeling it was the latter.


    ¡°Earth,¡± he said in a small voice.


    Still hovering beside him, Veebee nodded.


    Melmarc looked around once more. On the other side of the road, just opposite where he was standing, was a food truck. Its lights were still on, and a corpulent man stood within. He looked bored out of his mind, resting his elbow on the counter and propping his face up in his hand.


    ¡°A different Earth,¡± Melmarc tried, believing he was correct.


    Veebee nodded very enthusiastically.


    Melmarc¡¯s hair was wet now, drenched. The rain had soaked his clothes in the short minutes he¡¯d been standing under it. Still, he wasn¡¯t cold. He felt a night breeze, but it battered against his body like a summer breeze.


    He would¡¯ve assumed this world¡¯s air wasn¡¯t cold if not for the people moving around. They all seemed to shiver slightly. Especially those that were drenched like him.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand came up to rub his hair back, push some out of his face and he paused. He looked at his hand and frowned. Something was different. But whatever was different wasn¡¯t necessarily his hand. His hand just happened to play a part in it.


    His brows furrowed in thought, and he turned his arm one way, then the other. Nothing seemed different. Nothing seemed¡ª


    Did I get bigger?


    Muscular would not be his word of choice but his entire arm was definitely larger than it had been a few moments ago. Curious at how much larger he was, he inhaled deeply. By the time he was done breathing in, the shirt he was wearing was beginning to feel a little bit tighter than he knew it should.


    He had gotten bigger. A touch of worry slipped through his mind. If I keep growing like this, I might end up looking like a stereotypical tank.


    Ending up being large was not a worry to him. In fact, he¡¯d already come to terms with the fact that he was going to end up on the larger size when he got older ever since his growth spurt. But that was supposed to be when he was like thirty years old. Not sixteen.


    Ignoring his worry, he wiped his hair from his face as he¡¯d intended. ¡°Why are we here, Veebee?¡± he asked.


    Veebee turned its head one way, then the other before pointing at the massive screen. ¡°We are here to meet him.¡±


    Melmarc looked back up at the screen. ¡°So let me get this straight. This is another Earth. One with different people from the one I¡¯m from.¡±


    ¡°Correct,¡± Veebee confirmed.


    ¡°And I¡¯m here to meet a Player. A person known from my world as an Intruder?¡±


    ¡°Also correct.¡±


    ¡°Because?¡±


    Veebee looked at him, confused. ¡°Because you said you wanted to know what an [August Intruder] is.¡±


    ¡°So he¡¯s an [August Intruder]?¡±


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°No, he is Sentient.¡± It scratched its jaw in a very human-like manner. ¡°Could be Sapient one day¡­ maybe. But not [August Intruder].¡±


    It was a bit strange being able to hear Veebee so easily over the sound of the rain. It wasn¡¯t even raising its voice in anyway.


    ¡°What¡¯s that even about?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°Sentient and Sapient.¡±


    Veebee gave him an odd look. ¡°You don¡¯t know what they mean?¡±


    ¡°Where I come from, they are similar to each other,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°How?¡± Veebee asked.


    ¡°Sentient simply means to be able to feel things, like emotions. Sapient is just a logical and intelligent version of that. Like, I¡¯m sapient while a pet is sentient.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Veebee developed a line for a mouth just so it could scrunch it up in thought.


    Melmarc was getting used to its many forms of pretend expressions. He knew why it liked to talk and sound the way it did, now he was curious as to why it was going out of its way to mimic human expressions when it didn¡¯t have to.


    ¡°Veebee thinks it¡¯s similar,¡± it said finally.


    ¡°Similar but not the same,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°So what¡¯s¡ª¡±


    <<Hey! Dude, are you okay?>>


    Melmarc turned at the sound of the voice. He was met with the sight of a man maybe in his thirties approaching him. The man was only soaked at the feet, an umbrella held above his head doing its best to keep the rain from the rest of him.


    <<You look lost,>> the man said. <<You shouldn¡¯t be out on your own in the rain so late. You could catch a cold¡ª>> the man stopped in his tracks, worry danced across his heavily bearded face. <<Is that blood?>>


    Melmarc hesitated before looking down at his side where he¡¯d been cut by Caldath¡¯s spear. The reason for his hesitation was the man. While he was dry, apart from the umbrella in his hand, he was very clearly homeless. He had too many clothes on. He looked like he was supposed to smell funny, though Melmarc didn¡¯t smell anything. His wet shoes, on closer inspection, were torn and haggard, and his beard was the poster child for the word ¡®unkempt.¡¯


    The man hurried forward. <<We should get you looked at. There¡¯s a shelter just up ahead. What shelter did you come from?>>


    Shelter? Melmarc finally looked down at his injury.


    It was funny how he¡¯d completely forgotten all about it. It was still bloody, and while it hadn¡¯t healed, it wasn¡¯t bleeding anymore. It was simply covered in its initial blood.


    Moving his leg gently, he confirmed that the injury in his thigh was also still very painful. He also confirmed that it wasn¡¯t still bleeding.


    He raised his hand in front of him, stared at the hole Caldath¡¯s spear had made. Still there.


    But like his other injuries, it wasn¡¯t bleeding anymore. There was still a hole he could see through, though. He hadn¡¯t thought about it before but now that he was thinking about it, it was going to be a problem.


    I¡¯ll need a good Healer, or I¡¯ve got to be wearing gloves from now on. He sighed. And I¡¯m still just sixteen.


    The man had stopped approaching him again.


    <<Are you alright?>> he asked. <<Did you hit your head or something?>> He stepped closer, raised the umbrella so that it protected Melmarc too.


    <<You¡¯ve got blood on your neck,>> he added, reaching up to look at it. <<Did you hit your head? Tell me you remember your name.>>


    With tattered boots and pants and a ripped-up shirt, Melmarc had a very strong feeling he struck the perfect image of someone homeless, too.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, sir,¡± he answered, taking a step back, unsure of how exactly to react here.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    To the side, Veebee looked uncharacteristically unbothered. It simply watched the exchange, a curious expression on its face. Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if it was curious about the man or his interaction with the man.


    <<We need to get you to a shelter,>> the man continued. <<Get you medical assistance. We have a doctor at the one I stay at. He¡¯s a bit of a quack but he helps.>>


    Melmarc continued staring at the man. He watched him go through the taxing task of worrying over him with his free hand while the hand with the umbrella remained raised to its highest to make sure the umbrella stayed above Melmarc¡¯s head. It placed the umbrella a little too high for the man himself and the rain was already beginning to get on him.


    For the first time in Melmarc¡¯s life he looked down at a grown man on found himself with a simple thought.


    He¡¯s so small.


    He looked down at his hand while the man kept his attention on him. If the man wasn¡¯t Gifted, Melmarc could crush him if he didn¡¯t handle him carefully. It dawned on him now that he truly had become powerful. He¡¯d known this already, but he¡¯d never truly appreciated just how powerful.


    He was now powerful enough for his mistakes to cost a person their life.


    It already cost Claire hers.


    The man seized up all of a sudden. He stood still, like a statue, eyes empty.


    Melmarc gave him a curious look before taking a cautious step away from him.


    ¡°Veebee,¡± he said, not taking his eyes off the man. ¡°Is this normal on this Earth?¡±


    It was still weird to be fully aware that there were more than one Earths. Then again, his father had told him something similar once upon a time. When he¡¯d still been in the hospital, healing from the attack to his home as a child.


    ¡°No,¡± Veebee answered, coming to hover next to him. ¡°I stopped him, but only for a moment.¡±


    ¡°Is that safe?¡± Melmarc waved a hand in front of the man. The man remained unresponsive.


    ¡°Very safe. Veebee promises.¡±


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you do it before now?¡±


    Veebee shrugged. ¡°Veebee curious. Veebee want to see what kind of Sapient you are. If you care for Sentients that are not friend or not.¡±


    Melmarc gave it a pointed look. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°So Veebee know if Veebee care for random Sentients or not,¡± Veebee said as if it was the most logical answer there was.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about that.


    ¡°If Veebee follow Melmarc,¡± Veebee continued. ¡°Veebee have to be on best behavior. Is only right. Is honorable thing to do.¡±


    Honorable, Melmarc thought. Not so long ago he had been called ¡®One without honor¡¯ by a creature he deemed without honor as well.


    ¡°And what if I hadn¡¯t cared?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Veebee tilted its head to the side. This time, the action looked a bit ominous. ¡°Then Veebee not care. Not like Veebee care now.¡±


    Unwilling to attend to that, Melmarc changed the subject.


    ¡°How do we get to the man in the screen?¡± he asked, while the homeless man stood motionless in front of him, hand held high with an umbrella while the rain pelted him.


    ¡°We not go far.¡± Veebee pointed at another tall building in the distance. ¡°We go there. Player on roof.¡±


    Melmarc walked around the man in front of him, paused, looked at him. ¡°You¡¯re sure he¡¯s going to be alright?¡±


    Veebee nodded. ¡°Very.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t feel comfortable leaving the man out here just standing in the rain.


    ¡°What happens if I pick him up?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Nothing happen.¡±


    So Melmarc picked him up. He raised him from under the arms as if picking up an overactive child and began moving him. The man was as light as he was small.


    Only then did Melmarc realize that the street had grown significantly empty. He could only see maybe a handful of people around. They gave him odd looks as he moved with the man. But no one approached him.


    They are treating us like homeless people.


    Even back home, you didn¡¯t get involved in the things homeless people did. If you saw two homeless people fighting, most people just left them alone, giving them a wider berth than usual.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about being viewed as homeless.


    He walked the man all the way to a corner where a building had a shade¡ªit was a closed store, or at least he thought so¡ªand dropped the man under the shade there.


    Done, he turned back to the road. At this point he could only see one person. She was on the other side of the road and staggered as if she was drunk.


    More interesting than her was Veebee. Melmarc caught it looking around as if it was a tourist.


    ¡°Everything okay, Veebee?¡± he asked, slightly worried and amused.


    ¡°Everything fine,¡± Veebee said, turning back to him. ¡°Veebee just never been to sentient world before¡­ or any world.¡±


    That was surprising.


    ¡°But you brought us here,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°And you know where everything is.¡±


    ¡°Veebee mean proper world not broken world.¡± Veebee stood in the air, but something about the way it stood made it seem in a hurry.


    ¡°Which way did you say we were going?¡± Melmarc asked.


    When Veebee pointed at the building once more, Melmarc started walking under the rain. Veebee was more than happy to move with him.


    ¡°So, what did you mean by broken world?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°World that not have apocalyptic event,¡± it answered. ¡°Or world that survive apocalyptic event.¡±


    Curious, Melmarc asked, ¡°Where does my world fall?¡±


    ¡°Not have apocalyptic event,¡± Veebee answered without missing a beat.


    ¡°And this one?¡±


    Veebee looked around. ¡°This one have big event, terrible event. Destroy two countries and one continent. But not apocalyptic event. They also not have apocalyptic event.¡±


    An event that destroys two countries and one continent sounded like an apocalyptic event to Melmarc, though.


    Still, the world looked fine.


    ¡°When did they experience it?¡± he asked. ¡°Is there a way to tell?¡±


    ¡°Mana in air can tell.¡± Veebee fell quiet for a second before speaking again. ¡°Twelve years ago.¡±


    ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°They got portal. First portal. Big portal.¡±


    Melmarc winced at that. ¡°What rank?¡±


    ¡°Rank?¡± Veebee paused. ¡°Oh. Rank. Your world use rank. This world use category. With rank it is S-rank.¡±


    Melmarc was surprised. It sounded bad but not bad enough to have caused such damage. Not even if it had turned into a Chaos Run.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t anyone close it?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m sure someone could¡¯ve handled it.¡±


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°They not have anyone to handle it. First portal is first wound to world.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°They not close portal on time so portal evolve.¡± Veebee made a vague gesture with its hand as if looking for a word. ¡°It became Chaos Run. Always like this with small world. So when portal¡ª¡±


    ¡°Veebee,¡± Melmarc interrupted.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Can we use normal speech for this one?¡± he requested. ¡°I really want to understand what happened.¡±


    ¡°Can I go back to talking like this when I¡¯m done?¡±


    ¡°Yes. But why?¡±


    Veebee shrugged. ¡°I like it. It rolls off the tongue.¡±


    It certainly did not roll off the tongue as far as Melmarc was concerned but he didn¡¯t point that out.


    ¡°So what happened with the Chaos run?¡± he said, instead. ¡°Why didn¡¯t they stop it on time?¡±


    ¡°Because their weapons weren¡¯t strong enough,¡± Veebee answered as they crossed a road, drawing closer to the building. ¡°So it took them time to get strong.¡±


    ¡°Even with their S-rank Del¡ªPlayers?¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t have Players at the time,¡± Veebee explained. ¡°This world did not have mana. It was barren of mana, barely sentient.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s thoughts froze. The realizing was a terrifying one. An S-rank portal appearing in a world without Gifted. That was terrifying. More terrifying was an S-rank Chaos Run that would come from it.


    It would¡¯ve been a terrible massacre.


    ¡°How did they survive?¡± he asked, because they looked like they hadn¡¯t ever gone through such a terror.


    ¡°They eventually got their Awakened. Here they call what you call Delvers Players and what you call Gifted Awakened,¡± Veebee explained. ¡°So they got their first Awakened who started fighting back with their skills and their weapons. It helped stall the destruction enough for more people to Awaken. In the end, they avoided destruction. The continent and countries are still destroyed, with monsters and lesser things running around. They sometimes use them to train new Awakened.¡±


    ¡°And all this happened twelve years ago?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Twelve years ago.¡± Veebee nodded.


    ¡°And when did they start getting their Gif¡ªAwakened?¡±


    ¡°Twelve years ago.¡±


    Melmarc had another question to ask. He knew the answer but just needed to confirm it. ¡°Did the portal give them powers.¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± Veebee answered. ¡°A portal is like an injury. A Chaos Run is what happens when the injury starts getting infected. The Portal didn¡¯t give them powers, the Chaos Run did.¡±


    That was a very worrying thought. It meant that the Chaos Run had been inevitable. The destruction and mayhem had been certain.


    ¡°Veebee,¡± Melmarc said, the very word slow. ¡°How did my world get Gifted?¡±


    ¡°Too many years ago your world got a portal that became a Chaos Run and you got your Gifted.¡±


    That existed very differently from what they were taught on Earth. Back home they were taught that there had always been Gifted, that the Gifted existed even before the first portals. That the Delvers were called Delvers because of the first Gifted to ever go into a portal.


    This was a lot to take in.


    ¡°But your world has done very well ever since,¡± Veebee said, as if trying to reassure him. ¡°And look, they¡¯ve made their first Sapient being and [August Intruder].¡±


    They were closer to the building now. Maybe two roads away.


    Melmarc shook away the concern that they had not only been carrying the wrong information over the generations in his world but that there was a chance that someone had been doing it intentionally.


    ¡°That brings us back to what the difference between a sentient and sapient being is,¡± he said.


    ¡°That one¡¯s easy. A sentient being is something with a high level of self-awareness and possesses a chance of being able to harness mana. Ultimately, they belong to their world and are bound by its laws. Their world protects them and in return to work for it. Without their world, they cannot be unless under the protection of another world.¡±


    ¡°And a Sapient being?¡±


    ¡°They are beings that exist outside those rules,¡± Veebee explained. ¡°They are protected by their world but are not bound to it. They can exist independent of their world and can exist in any world under less demanding circumstances. In summary, a sentient being solidifies its presence by the existence of its world and a sapient being solidifies its existence by establishing its presence in its world.¡±


    ¡°So what¡¯s the difference between a sapient being and an [August Intruder]?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°The [August Intruder] is the representative of their world,¡± Veebee said. ¡°Not because they are of the world, but because they, by themselves, have gained the innate ability to exist on their own. Think of it like this. The world keeps the sentient alive, the sapient know how to keep themselves alive in the world. And the [August Intruder] has solidified its existence in existence itself. The [August Intruder] is one of the few beings that are capable of telling the world move and it will move.¡±


    That sounded like a very important position to play.


    ¡°And once an [August Intruder] establishes their presence, existence itself becomes aware of their world and that brings its attention to more terrifying things.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean it would be better for a world to not have an [August Intruder]?¡±


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°No. A world has better protection against Intruders and stands a better chance of surviving its apocalyptic event if it has an [August Intruder]. It also reduces the number of injuries it has and prolongs how long it takes for a Chaos run to appear. Still¡­¡± It gave it a thought. ¡°An [August Intruder] also speeds up the arrival of the apocalypse. But the world at least gets updated about the apocalypse long before it comes. So that should be a good thing.¡±


    It sounded less like a good thing and more like a silver lining in a very stormy cloud.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure he was ready for more. But it felt important to know more.


    ¡°And how is all of it supposed to work?¡± he asked, adjusting his shirt around the collar, this place gave him that odd feeling, as if his shirt wasn¡¯t worn properly. He didn¡¯t like it.


    ¡°I can¡¯t say more than that for now,¡± it answered. ¡°What I can say is that you¡¯ll have to meet all your Oaths if you want your world to be perfectly ready. If you can go off world and secure the help of another powerful sapient being, that would even be better.¡± It turned thoughtful again. ¡°Maybe the [August Intruder] of a world that survived its apocalypse. Maybe a [Demon King], although those are among the rarest sapient beings, and are just not very nice in general. But that could help. I¡¯ll also help when I get designated to you.¡±


    Ark crossed Melamarc¡¯s mind. I guess I won¡¯t be alone in this.


    They came to a slow stop in front of the building. The lights were currently off, the streets quiet.


    Another thought came to Melmarc¡¯s mind. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you ever been able to come here on your own before? You said you¡¯ve never been to these worlds before.¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m invincible inside the path between worlds,¡± it answered. ¡°But to make these trips, I need a sapient being. I never had one. At least not one that was a friend.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He had more questions, but he kept those aside for now. He had a player to meet, after all.


    ¡°So, what happens when we meet this Player?¡± he asked. ¡°Is he supposed to be like an ally or something?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Veebee answered. ¡°From what I¡¯ve noticed, it has the closest mana signature to yours, which makes it arguably the biggest threat to you.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc was nervous¡­ and excited. ¡°And does he know I¡¯m coming?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed in suspicion. ¡°Veebee.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°What are we about to do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing outlandish,¡± it answered casually. ¡°You¡¯re just going to kill it and drink its blood.¡±

 EIGHTY-FOUR: Shockwave

    ¡°No.¡±


    It was all Melmarc could think to say. In fact, there was no need to even think about it. It was the default answer, as simple and correct as blinking. You didn¡¯t even need to think about it.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Veebee asked, confused. ¡°It is necessary. I personally¡ªcan I stop talking like this? Please.¡±


    ¡°Is there anything else that might need explaining for me to understand?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Veebee answered.


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll need to keep talking like this for me to understand.¡±


    ¡°Veebee misses talking the other way,¡± Veebee grumbled. ¡°It was so smooth, and fun. And you were nicer.¡±


    Melmarc looked at it, confused. ¡°How am I not nice right now?¡±


    ¡°Well, I gave you a perfectly understandable reason to do a perfectly normal thing and you said no.¡± Veebee folded its arms. ¡°No is not a good response to reasonable things.¡±


    Melmarc sighed. ¡°Veebee. I am not killing someone innocent. That¡¯s murder. And I am definitely not drinking their blood. That¡¯s just¡­¡± he shivered visibly. ¡°I¡¯m just not.¡±


    ¡°But it will make you more powerful,¡± Veebee protested.


    Sacrifices, Melmarc thought. It had only been moments ago when he¡¯d looked at what Caldath had become, what the Demi-god had sacrificed to become it. All those faces on the wall.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be a murderer, Veebee,¡± he told it, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be that person. It¡¯s not¡­¡± He looked up, met Veebee¡¯s eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go that far.¡±


    ¡°Sentients,¡± it said, ¡°don¡¯t have the luxury of choice, Melmarc.¡±


    It hurt to hear that. ¡°But you said that I¡¯m not a sentient.¡±


    ¡°And right you are.¡± Veebee perked up, the solemnity of the situation gone like the wind. ¡°As an [August Intruder] there will always be alternatives. Veebee just has to find them.¡±


    Then it froze, turned perfectly still where it hovered in the air.


    Melmarc waited while it did so. He didn¡¯t know how he knew it, but he was fully aware of the fact that Veebee was actually thinking about their current predicament.


    So, while Veebee thought, Melmarc took in the scenery once more.


    There was nothing much to the place. There was also nothing out of place.


    Melmarc had been to enough business districts for enough reasons that he could say that this entire place was simply normal. The building was as tall as any skyscraper. A mimicry of the tower of Babel trying to pierce the heavens, Ark had once called them.


    It was all glass, and with the absence of light within and the cacophony of lights outside, it was a clean mirror that showed Melmarc everything on his side of this world but nothing on the other side of it.


    He finally got to see what he looked like, and even he was terrified.


    His hair was an unkempt mess that now fell down to his shoulders. It was surprising since it had still been short when he¡¯d been fighting Caldath.


    His shirt was torn and bloodied. It gave him the look of someone who¡¯d been in one too many fights in some jungle and had just dragged themselves into civilization. It was like staring at the protagonist from a very brutal action movie with the blood and gore and explosion.


    Once upon a time, he¡¯d looked like a healthy tall boy who looked timid enough to be bullied for different things, including his height. Now, he looked like he was more likely to do the bullying.


    He ran a hand through his long hair, then took a fistful and pulled it up. It was long and very black. It was glossy, as if a lot of hair products had gone into it. He attributed that to the rain.


    Letting the fistful of hair go, he used both hands to pack the hair up. He held it there in one style and checked himself in the mirror. There were no pedestrians or passersby around so he didn¡¯t have to worry about how he might¡¯ve looked to other people.


    However, the action stung his hand and he almost dropped the hair. He winced, knowing the pain came from the hole in his hand. There was also a dull pain in his side.


    I could put it up in a ponytail, he thought, his mind going through hairstyles.


    He packed it all the way back, so that it stretched at the front. Maybe a tight wolf¡¯s tail.


    After a moment, he let the hair down then scattered it into a pseudo mess. It gave him to movie star look, the one the stars with long hair carried when they just got out of bed and still looked like models fit for a magazine cover.


    Or this. He bent his head one way then the other, checking himself in the mirror. He stopped for a moment to give Veebee a look and found the creature still standing motionless in the air. It¡¯ll probably need some more time.


    When he turned his attention back to the mirror all his interest in different hairstyles just seemed to fade away. He ran his hand through his hair once more, cancelling out all the different styles.


    Or I could just cut it. A simple hairstyle as always.


    With a sigh, he dropped his hands. It had been fun for a short while to forget about everything that was happening and get lost in the fun of thinking up hairstyles. But the fun had come to an end. It was time to snap back to reality.


    He was in another world while an extradimensional creature was trying to convince him to murder some random guy and drink his blood because it would make him more powerful.


    Wait, isn¡¯t that just vampirism?


    The thought of vampirism brought another thought to mind. Just how much of what had happened to him was he even allowed to tell Delano and Eroms. He obviously couldn¡¯t say anything about Oaths.


    But I can tell him about being an [August Intruder], right?


    Then again, when he¡¯d been given the buffs of [Intruder] and [August Guest], Uncle Dorthna had been quick to silence him from talking about everything. Once upon a time he¡¯d thought Uncle Dorthna had done it for the sake of being careful. Now, however, with everything he knew, what if there was more to what uncle Dorthna knew than just being careful.


    If Melmarc was being honest, once upon a time his uncle had been the biggest enigma in his life. Then there was the thing with the color of his indicator. Caldath¡¯s indicator had been a perfect copy of it as well.


    Melmarc had identified a lot of people since he¡¯d gained [Knowledge is Power], seen countless indicators. Caldath and Dorthna¡¯s were the only two of a kind.


    What were the chances that Uncle Dorthna was a Demi-god?


    It wasn¡¯t out of place to think so.


    Maybe he¡¯s an Oath?


    For some reason, Melmarc couldn¡¯t reconcile that answer. Uncle Dorthna just didn¡¯t strike him as an Oath or a Demi-god. He didn¡¯t have that feel to him.


    Then what feel does he have?


    Melmarc had no answer to that question. Uncle Dorthna just gave off the vibe of a jovial uncle. That was all there was to it.


    As the thoughts and questions rose, more came to being. If Caldath had been the Oath of Madness, did it mean that Oaths, like his father, could find a way to become Demi-gods? And what did it say about Demi-gods? He didn¡¯t want to believe that they were all bad. Then there was the question of how exactly Caldath had come to become a Demi-god.


    I should¡¯ve asked it.


    ¡°Got it!¡± Veebee exclaimed suddenly, a bright look on its face.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°What do we do?¡±


    ¡°All we need is to get it to use its powers,¡± Veebee said enthusiastically. ¡°If it does that, then I can serve as a conduit to draw its mana.¡±


    There was just something significantly odd about hearing Veebee use a word like ¡®conduit.¡¯ Having listened to it talk like a child for so long, the word just felt a little too complicated for Veebee¡¯s vocabulary.


    Melmarc shook away that line of thought. Veebee, from how terrified Saxi had been of it, had to be a powerful creature. There was no way complicated human words would be an issue for it. Besides, it had said with its own mouth¡ªmetaphorically speaking¡ªthat it only spoke that way because it liked speaking that way.


    What are the chances that it only spoke that way so that you would understand it better?


    The possibility did not elude Melmarc, after all, the first time he¡¯d met Veebee, it had claimed to speak that way because there were creatures that spoke that way that people liked.


    Regardless, that was unimportant.


    ¡°How would that work?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°You being a conduit to draw its mana.¡±


    ¡°Veebee just has to be there to feel the mana in its skill and draw on it.¡±


    ¡°And his blood?¡±


    Veebee shrugged. ¡°What about it?¡±


    ¡°I thought we needed it.¡± Melmarc gave it a pointed look. ¡°That¡¯s why you wanted me to drink it, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Oh. No.¡± Veebee looked up suddenly, then ignored whatever it saw. ¡°Veebee wanted you to drink its blood because the highest concentration of mana in a sentient being is in its blood.¡±


    ¡°Oh. What of a Sapient being?¡± Melmarc asked, curious. He was a Sapient being, after all. It wouldn¡¯t hurt to know where the concentration of his mana was.


    Veebee waved the question aside as if it was unimportant. ¡°Sapient beings don¡¯t have a concentration of mana. It is part of the reason they establish their presence in existence and not in their world. At least powerful sapient beings like you.¡±


    Melmarc certainly didn¡¯t feel powerful. Not in the way Veebee was insinuating it.


    ¡°But I have mana,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°It has to be concentrated somewhere.¡±


    Veebee lowered itself to his eye level very slowly. It came down as if it was about to give him the ultimate secret of the universe.


    ¡°You are [August Intruder],¡± it said gravely. ¡°You don¡¯t have concentration of mana. You don¡¯t have mana. You are mana.¡±


    That gave Melmarc pause. ¡°I am mana? You mean I am made of mana, right? Like Its in my skin and bones and flesh or I¡¯ve converted my skin and bone and flesh into mana.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t very sure which one was more terrifying to think about. That he was no longer a physical form but mana masquerading as a physical form or that he had so much mana that it practically made him a mana source.


    Thoughts of how that could be a terrible thing if specific people in the world discovered it started to plague his mind. Things like Gifted experiments came to mind. There were, after all, powerful Delvers and Gifted that didn¡¯t really have good reputations.


    Even organizations.


    ¡°Veebee did not explain properly,¡± Veebee said in an apologetic tone. ¡°You are not mana. Veebee only said you are mana because Veebee thought it would be easier for you to understand. Sentient beings draw mana from their world to replenish their mana. Sentient beings like your species draw it into their hearts and move it through their blood to fill their bodies. They need an external mana source to replenish their mana. It¡¯s like breathing.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± Melmarc said, giving it a sign that he was following.


    ¡°Sapient beings learn to become their own source of mana by turning themselves into mana,¡± Veebee continued. ¡°Their flesh and blood and bone becomes mana that simply looks like flesh and blood and bone¡­ in a way.¡±


    That was a worrying thought. It made them seem as if they were no longer human since they had somehow lost their physical form. Melmarc was sure that there was more to it, but he just couldn¡¯t look past that aspect of it.


    I would be worried if that is what I¡¯ve become.


    ¡°But you,¡± Veebee continued. ¡°You are not that.¡±


    ¡°Then what am I?¡±


    ¡°You are energy. Your very being is a source of energy. Not infinite but powerful and potent. You draw on yourself to replenish your mana. You draw on¡­¡± Veebee¡¯s face brightened as if it had just found the word it was looking for. ¡°The fact that you exist is your source of mana. Each time you need to replenish your mana, you draw on your own existence. That is your source of mana.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°So, my mana is infinite?¡±


    ¡°In the same way a Sentient being¡¯s mana is infinite.¡± Veebee shrugged. ¡°A sentient being draws the mana in its blood to channel a skill. You just draw out your skill since you are the source. But your mana will finish. The difference is that a sentient being will have to draw mana from around it by instinct to replenish itself but you don¡¯t.¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°And how exactly does that work?¡±


    Veebee scratched its head and Melmarc was beginning to feel a little less intelligent than he knew he was.


    ¡°Veebee not explaining well,¡± Veebee muttered.


    Or maybe I¡¯m just slower than a creature like you.


    ¡°If mana regeneration speed is two percent per second for a sentient being in its world,¡± Veebee said. ¡°Then in a different world it is less than one percent a second. Because it is drawing mana from the world. Since another world is not its world, drawing mana will be harder. If sentient being is an [Intruder] then it will be less than that because the world is against the sentient being.¡±


    ¡°I understand this far,¡± Melmarc said, happy that he did.


    ¡°Good. But if your mana regeneration is ten percent per second in your world, it is ten percent per second in any world. Even in path between worlds¡­ No¡­ maybe stronger in path between worlds for some reason.¡±


    ¡°Since I¡¯m not drawing from the world around me but my¡­ existence,¡± Melmarc said.


    Veebee nodded. ¡°If sentient being enters place without mana, sentient being cannot replenish mana. If [August Intruder] enter place without mana, [August Intruder] can still replenish mana. If [August Intruder] cannot replenish mana, then it is because someone or something is actively stopping [August Intruder] from replenishing mana.¡±


    It¡¯s talking this way because it thinks I¡¯m dumb, Melmarc thought. It has to be.


    Veebee had dropped its lexicon a step closer to its babyish speech when Melmarc had pointed out that he wasn¡¯t understanding. Melmarc had noticed it. Although, there was also the possibility that it had just done that because it had seen a chance and taken it.


    ¡°So, I¡¯m still human,¡± Melmarc asked for confirmation.


    Veebee shrugged. ¡°You are still human. Peak existential human. Human that is more¡­ Human because you decided to be human.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t remember deciding to be human but he left that alone.


    ¡°So how do we get up there?¡± he asked, instead, changing the subject and looking up.


    Above the building, all the way in the sky, he saw what looked like a helicopter approaching from very far away. Melmarc didn''t know so much but it looked as if the helicopter was taking its time. Was whoever they were here to ambush about to leave?


    ¡°We use door,¡± Veebee answered, then hovered up to the door.


    It touched the surface of the door, paused, then looked back at Melmarc. ¡°Sentient being on the other side. Prepare to attack.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t see what was on the other side, so he took a combat stance, prepared himself. ¡°Veebee, I still don¡¯t have a lot of mana. I just finished fighting a Demi-god. I don¡¯t think I can keep fighting every time.¡±


    ¡°Sentient being on the other side not have mana,¡± Veebee said casually. ¡°Is alright.¡±


    Melmarc felt a little nervous at that piece of information. He definitely didn¡¯t want to accidentally kill some innocent person.


    ¡°No.¡± Veebee paused. ¡°Sentient being have mana, just very weak. F-rank.¡±


    That helped with Melmarc¡¯s nervousness but not a lot. ¡°Do you know if they have something like a security feature?


    Veebee nodded.


    Melmarc returned the nod. ¡°Ready.¡±


    Veebee pushed the doors, but they didn¡¯t open inwards. Instead, they shattered as if something had blasted them inward.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have the time to hesitate, he didn¡¯t allow himself. Time in the tower hadn¡¯t just taught him the risks of hesitation, it had ingrained it into him. His flesh. His bones. His muscles.


    His eyes picked out a space and he darted into the building through it. His speed was so great that the world blurred around him. His perception, it seemed was lacking in comparison with his speed now.


    He wondered how much perception the [Speedster] class had.


    Melmarc came to a skidding halt in the center of a massive space. It was a reception area. A place where people simply walked around, it seemed.


    His eyes catalogued everything at once. He picked out five guards. All five were hulking men. Two as tall as him and three maybe a few inches shorter. All five were double his size in muscle.


    Desk, he thought, spotting one of them behind the only really large desk in the room.


    His first thought went for the [Rings of Saturn]. He discarded the thought immediately. From everything he¡¯d done with the skill, it felt like a skill that could easily kill someone that wasn¡¯t strong enough.


    ¡°Hey! You!¡±


    The voice that called to him carried a very intimidating baritone. Melmarc ignored the voice and made for the desk. If there was going to be a security button here somewhere, he was betting on the desk.


    The man behind it saw him coming and staggered back.


    At least one of them is F-rank, Melmarc thought as he charged. If Veebee was to be believed, then the remaining four were normal humans.


    With no way to tell, he would have to take it easy with all of them. Then again, even if he could tell, he still had to take it easy with all of them. An F-rank was a Gifted but it didn¡¯t necessarily make them powerful.


    Melmarc came to a stop in front of the table and his hand shot out across it. The man behind tried to lean away from his reach but he wasn¡¯t fast enough. Melmarc grabbed him by the face with the hand with a hole in it. He winced but the pain was not enough to deter him.


    In a single action he pulled the man over the table and sent him flying into the middle of the room.


    He turned and was already moving. Instinct flared before his first step, and he ducked to the side. The explosive sound of a gunshot filled the room and Melmarc froze only for a second.


    ¡°My god!¡± the man pointing a gun at him exclaimed. ¡°He¡¯s just a kid.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that!¡± another man spat. ¡°He¡¯s a supervillain. Child or not.¡±


    Melmarc frowned. He had just learnt something new about himself. He did not like being shot at.


    [You have used skill Knowledge is Power]


    The last thing he wanted to do was get a bullet wound in the middle of an unknown world. As the mana blasted out of him, he charged the man with the gun.


    Unfortunately, that man wasn¡¯t the only one with a gun. Three shots rang out.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    ¡­


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    ¡­


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Pain flared in Melmarc¡¯s back. To his surprise, it wasn¡¯t as painful as the time Jude had shot him.


    With his size, he was an easier target than most people. It meant that dodging wouldn¡¯t be as easy.


    Getting to the first man, he grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground. His other hand snatched the gun, keeping its aim away.


    Another pain flared in his back and his frown deepened into a scowl. He turned and held the man up between him and the other shooters.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    They were at a stand off and he watched someone¡¯s eyes dart towards the desk. It told him that he¡¯d been right. The desk was important.


    Curious of his skill¡¯s effect, Melmarc slammed the man he was holding into the ground with as little force as he could muster. He flung him down, sideways, made sure his head was what connected with the ground.


    He was pleased when the man¡¯s head bounced off the ground and the man ended up motionless.


    One of the men paled. ¡°We need help!¡±


    Melmarc was on him next. Everyone was still within the range of [Knowledge is Power]. The moment he appeared in front of the man, he drove a kick into the man¡¯s chest. It sent him flying into the wall where he didn¡¯t get up.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    Nobody had taken a shot.


    I¡¯m too fast for them, Melmarc realized.


    With the realization, he turned and darted for the next man. That man got a spinning kick that sent him head first into the ground.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is in effect.]


    [You cannot receive or inflict damage.]


    [Knowledge is Power] had begun its return. Its static mana was clear as it approached.


    Melmarc continued on his onslaught. By the time the skill had come to a conclusion, only one man was left standing. Everyone else lay unconscious on the ground or up against a wall. Judging from the color of the last man¡¯s skin, grey as granite, it was safe to assume that he was the one that was Gifted.


    That and the icon with a red indicator over his head.


    [Lesley Brown (Basher)(F)]


    ¡°Alright, kiddo!¡± the man growled. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you want here, but I¡¯m willing to bet you¡¯re one of those after Mr. Norman. So I ain¡¯t going down without a fight.¡±


    The man was right about one thing. Melmarc was here for Mr. Norman.


    The man charged Melmarc and Melmarc didn¡¯t stand down. Lesley blitzed forward with a fist cocked back. Melmarc tightened his stance, kept both feet planted firmly to the ground and readied his uninjured hand.


    Lesley met him. His fist shot forward, but Melmarc¡¯s did not meet it. Instead, Melmarc leaned into the blow, turned, caught the man by his thrown arm and swung him into a shoulder throw. The man slammed into the ground with the force of a falling boulder, bouncing once.


    Holding onto the man was like holding onto a statue. But the moment he made impact with the ground, sending a spider web of cracks spreading along it, his grey exterior shattered as if he¡¯d shaken off flakes of it. He let out a weak and tired sigh.


    Melmarc looked down at the man, saw the pain in his eyes. The man opened his mouth to say something, but Melmarc wasn¡¯t ready for a conversation.


    A well-placed downward blow to the jaw silenced him. One strike was all it took to knock him out.


    Melmarc released the man¡¯s arm he still had trapped and stepped away from him.


    Veebee came to hover next to him.


    ¡°No killing?¡± it asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°No killing.¡±


    Something about Veebee¡¯s demeanor seemed saddened by his response. ¡°Killing fun,¡± it said. ¡°Killing give [EP]. [EP] useful.¡±


    Melmarc looked at it. ¡°What even is [EP]?¡±


    ¡°Existence points. Everything alive has it.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. It made sense in a way. ¡°Where next?¡±


    Veebee gestured with both hands. ¡°Elevator or stairs?¡±


    ¡­


    Pain was a staple part of Norman¡¯s life. He had lived with it for years on end. It was now his only true constant. It wasn¡¯t always terrible, but it was always there a steady thrum in his side.


    He sat quietly in the office the Hecates guild had gotten him. It was a wide office with an amazing view. Its aesthetics was on the darker side of things with black furnishing and dark colors. Even the plants were black. According to them it was a variety of plants that could only be found in the infested zones of Antarctica.


    Still stupid, he thought.


    What was the point to getting plants from such a dangerous place? It wasn¡¯t like they had anything going for them apart from their color.


    As for the office. It was large enough to have its own set of couches complete with a black center table between his desk and the entrance. That was where he could handle more relaxed meetings.


    As for the walls, they were all reinforced glass that gave the office the skyline as its backdrop. In the night, it cast the city¡¯s nightlight all over the office.


    It was aesthetically pleasing.


    Still, Norman had his office lights on. It was white and gave the space good illumination.


    On his gaming laptop, Norman was currently engaging himself in a good game of Elden ring. The game had come out the same year the whole world had gone to shit. The same year they¡¯d gotten their first Chaos Run and companies that sold products for the purpose of leisurely entertainment had taken a break.


    The world had returned to some form of normalcy, but things still weren¡¯t the same. The gaming companies had gone back to creating games and Norman was doing his best to catch up with the games he still hadn¡¯t played.


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be working,¡± he grumbled to himself but didn¡¯t stop gaming.


    The game helped sometimes. Like right now, he could focus more on not dying to the simple basic monsters around him. It helped him ignore the pain he was sure was coming from his liver.


    He still remembered the source of the pain. He still remembered where his loss came from. It was funny to think that it was a fight he had won.


    The Oath of War. A boss monster he hadn¡¯t killed in one of the portals he¡¯d been in a few years ago.


    The encounter had left him in a terrible state after the drugs he¡¯d used to help him win the fight had worn off back home. He¡¯d been to every Healer and doctor, Awakened and not. Science and magic had not been able to save him.


    From what he knew, he had suffered too much damage. The drugs had kept him from feeling pain during the fight while increasing his healing attributes, but it had come at a cost. He¡¯d pushed himself too far to achieve that victory.


    All his organs were weak, dying. He could keep himself alive with routine medical care, but his days of pushing himself to a hundred percent were over. Eighty was the best he would ever go from now on.


    At level two hundred and two, he wasn¡¯t as strong as his level. It wasn¡¯t just his inability to push himself to a hundred that hindered him, it was the fact that while he couldn¡¯t push to a hundred, his pain still kept him from keeping a steady hold on his current peak.


    He was weak.


    Norman sighed as he died to a random monster in the video game. He took his hand from his mouse and keyboard and leaned back against his chair. On nights like this, he wondered if that fight all those years ago had been worth it.


    When the thoughts became too heavy, he reminded himself that despite what the world had forced him to do since the first portal, he could at least beat his chest and say he remained a good man. Power had not corrupted him.


    Despite everything, he had fought with some modicum of honor. He had not taken advantage of the Boss¡¯ reaction to the presence of children. He had also protected the children.


    He knew Players who cared nothing for NPC¡¯s anytime they entered a portal.


    Sometimes he would lay awake at night and live in his own imagination. He would imagine that the world was real and hadn¡¯t just disappeared after they were done with the portal. He would pretend that the Boss had eventually gotten better, that she had healed¡ªunlike himself¡ªand raised her kids.


    He would pretend that they grew older, went to school, made friends, got strong and healthy. It was always all in his head. He knew this. But sometimes it helped him sleep at night. It helped him forget his pain.


    Closing his laptop, Norman closed his eyes once more. He would sleep in the office today, and he would dream of children who grew up after watching him almost kill their mother.


    He would dream of being forgiven.


    And when he finally died one day, he hoped those would be the last thing he would imagine as he was lulled away into sleep.


    Maybe I can be forgi¡ª


    The door to his room exploded, dragging him from his own thoughts. Norman shot to his feet immediately, already alert. His interface flashed in front of him as he channeled his skill into existence.


    [You have used skill Weight of Jupiter]


    Norman felt his weight increase exponentially, so much so that the ground beneath him cracked just a tiny bit.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses: 11/13]


    Rings of mana appeared above him, each one hovering just above each shoulder. He could hold up to eight at the same time. At a hundred percent, he could hold up to ten. At least he thought so. But this skill made him formidable.


    He focused his attention on his shattered door, waiting for what would come.


    Standing there, where his door had once been was a hulking figure. The person was tall, at least a head taller than Norman. He was wide too, but not in a way that said he was trying to be Mr. Olympia or something.


    His hair was a deep black that shined in the light. It was wet. And it fell over his face. It took Norman a moment to realize the reason the man wasn¡¯t on the large side. It was because it wasn¡¯t a man.


    His assailant was a boy. A child.


    A Dark Hunter? Norman worried. They were among the people who went around intimidating the powerful. They had their own rankings from what he knew and were obsessed with facing the powerful. And not all of them were grown.


    Norman couldn¡¯t afford any serious injuries at this point. Not with the category eight portal that had opened in Kyoto a few hours ago. Which meant he couldn¡¯t treat his opponent as a child.


    His assailant stood at the door in torn clothes, covered in injuries. He watched Norman with eyes too covered by his hair for Norman to see their color. One of his hands seemed to have a hole in it.


    He was as young as they came. However, there was something about his mere presence, something powerful. It was less about raw power and more about the potential for power.


    Norman took a combat stance. He knew better than to give less than his all against an enemy like this.


    I could die here today.


    Still, if the guards downstairs had succeeded in reducing the man to his current state, maybe he wasn¡¯t really that strong. Maybe Norman could¡ª


    Light flashed to the side. Norman¡¯s assailant turned his head to look at it and so did Norman.


    Just outside, a helicopter hovered a little too close to the glass. Its light glared at Norman and a dark silhouette stood at its door. It held its hand out and Norman had a strong feeling of what was about to happen.


    The glass shattered inside, and Norman leapt back and away from his table. He grabbed his laptop on instinct and his table was blasted away. His second assailant, the one standing at the door, took a hesitant step inside but no more.


    Worry colored Norman¡¯s face. They¡¯d planned it well. If he was forced to fight two powerful opponents right now, he would not make it.


    The man in the helicopter jumped into the building, landing with a heavy thud. The lights were still on, though they flickered chaotically. But Norman could still see the face of his new opponent.


    ¡°Shockwave,¡± he muttered under his breath with a frown.


    It had been a while since a super villain came looking for him.


    ¡°Hello, Norman,¡± Shockwave answered with a feral look in his eyes.


    He stood in clothes that almost looked like spandex. They were dark colors that fit him a little too snug, mixes of black and grey with a black mask over his mouth like one of the ninjas from Mortal Kombat. The costume left an obvious bulge in his groin area.


    Norman understood why the heroes wore flashy colors and spandex¡ªto inspire those that looked up to them¡ªbut he could never understand why the villains did it.


    Norman didn¡¯t let his worry show on his face when he spoke. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be dealing with superheroes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get back to that soon enough,¡± Shockwave answered. ¡°For now, I¡¯m here for you.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Norman sighed. ¡°You¡¯re trying to show off for your sidekick. Where¡¯d you get this one, the back of a milk carton?¡±


    Shockwave was known for turning up with one new sidekick every now and again.


    Even with the mask over the lower half of his face, Shockwave gave a confused look. ¡°What sideki¡ª¡±


    He turned abruptly, movement lightening fast, and caught a blow aimed for his face in his hand. The sound of the impact exploded in the room as if someone with big, muscular hands had just clapped with all his might.


    Shockwave¡¯s confusion turned into a deep seething rage. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±

 EIGHTY-FIVE: Oath-hood

    The stairs were definitely the right choice, Melmarc thought as he ascended the stairs three at a time. Naturally, it would¡¯ve been a dumb decision if you took time and strength and endurance into consideration.


    But he had the endurance and the speed. And taking multiple steps at a time cut the entire process short by a significant amount of time. Besides, he wasn¡¯t going to be the intruder that used the elevator after the chaos he¡¯d just caused downstairs.


    It would be really dumb to get trapped in an elevator at this time.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a bunch of [EP],¡± he said as he ran up, clearing over three floors in less than a minute.


    ¡°You should,¡± Veebee said. ¡°You went through so much. Still, if you had killed all the monsters as planned, you¡¯d have a lot more.¡±


    The last part it had added in a grumble.


    ¡°Do you think I should use them now?¡± Melmarc asked, pointedly ignoring the fact that Veebee had intended for him to single handedly slay all the [Damned] in the portal.


    Veebee gave it some thought, while Melmarc found himself a little impressed in how Veebee could follow his speed, hovering so leisurely next to him. Melmarc could barely see the details around him.


    ¡°No,¡± it answered in the end.


    ¡°Why no¡ª¡± Melmarc coughed a bit as something flew into his mouth. ¡°I think I just swallowed a fly.¡±


    ¡°Not a fly,¡± Veebee answered casually. ¡°No fly in building.¡±


    That made Melmarc worry at what could¡¯ve possibly entered his mouth. Ignoring that little worry, he brought them back to the conversation.


    ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t I use my [EP]?¡±


    ¡°Because it would be you wasting your [EP],¡± Veebee answered. ¡°If you use [EP]. You¡¯ll use it for this moment. That is waste. Keep it for when you will use it for general increase.¡±


    ¡°But what if he¡¯s stronger than me? The guy we¡¯re going to meet.¡±


    ¡°It is stronger than you.¡±


    Veebee¡¯s emphasis on the noun worried Melmarc. ¡°Are you saying the player is not human?¡±


    ¡°Player is human,¡± Veebee corrected. ¡°Player also sentient.¡±


    Oh, it¡¯s a discrimination thing.


    ¡°So, if he¡¯s stronger, why shouldn¡¯t I use the [EP]?¡±


    ¡°Because you not die tonight.¡± Veebee didn¡¯t seem the slightest bit bothered. ¡°You are linked to Veebee and Veebee can¡¯t die¡­ yet. Veebee get you back home if you near to die.¡±


    Melmarc really wanted to point out its use of lexicon one more time, but he didn¡¯t.


    I can trust it, right?


    For some reason, Melmarc felt like he could. He didn¡¯t like that. All his life he¡¯d never been a person to trust in feelings. The only people he trusted based on feelings were Ark and Ninra. Even then, they¡¯d done enough to earn that trust.


    In fact, he trusted them enough that if they broke his trust, he¡¯d be stuck looking for the good reason they had for breaking his trust.


    Every other person gained his trust based on rational, logical and objective observations. He could trust people because he knew enough about them to trust them. With Veebee, however, everything he knew about the creature was based on his feelings.


    Its reactions and emotions were not things he could objectively see. Its nervousness, excitement, interest. Melmarc simply felt them all.


    It was an odd sensation to work with all of a sudden.


    In the end, he reached his conclusion.


    ¡°You won¡¯t let me die, right?¡± he said.


    ¡°Not this night,¡± Veebee answered.


    The stairs seemed to go on forever, but it eventually came to an end. When it did, Veebee guided Melmarc down a hallway filled with white light. It said nothing as it did, simply hovering and trusting that he would follow.


    It was odd not to run into any other guard the entire way up. Odder still was the fact that despite all the gunshots nobody had come running, no alarm had been raised. Nothing.


    It was almost as if the three men downstairs were the only night guards on duty.


    ¡°Here.¡± Veebee gestured at a black door. The only black door on the entire floor.


    Melmarc stood in front of it, intrigued by the fact that he¡¯d just gone up an entire skyscraper using the stairs and wasn¡¯t panting. He¡¯d used [Knowledge is Power] three times in the entire journey for the stat boost stack. Still, it remained an impressive feat.


    He was at the top in less than ten minutes.


    Moving his hand to the doorknob, Melmarc stopped himself. This wasn¡¯t a kind visit or a social call. He was, in the truest words, an intruder here. A peaceful entry would be stupid.


    Here goes nothing.


    He raised his leg, put his back into it, and kicked the door down. It didn¡¯t break on impact. Instead, the entire door caved in on itself then exploded inwards in a shattering of countless pieces.


    Is it designed to do that?


    The doors Melmarc knew simply broke or shattered. They were never so dramatic. This one had even gone the extra mile of raising a small cloud of dust. It took Melmarc a moment to realize that his kick hadn¡¯t just taken the door, it had taken some parts of the wall, too.


    Melmarc was introduced to a massive office. It was the kind you would expect to belong to some owners of massive corporations in movies. The over furnished offices with too many furniture and unnecessary colors.


    At the end of the office, a man stood behind a desk with blue-white rings of mana hovering over both shoulders. He stood with his arms at the ready and caution in his blue eyes. The man looked old, with greying hair. Melmarc placed him to be at least fifty.


    He was shorter than Melmarc by at least a full head, but despite how old he looked, his body looked like it was still in its prime. Even in the loose work shirt he was wearing, Melmarc could pick out how muscular he was.


    There was a hesitant moment as both of them took themselves in. The rings of mana above the man¡¯s shoulders let Melmarc know why Veebee had claimed the man¡¯s mana was similar to his.


    While they stood across the distance, Melmarc prepared himself. At the man¡¯s age, he would probably have twelve years of experience under his belt if he¡¯d been fighting since this world¡¯s first Chaos Run. Then there was the fact that the man was the stronger of the both of them.


    With his arsenal of skills, Melmarc knew what skill he was going to be using first.


    [Knowledge is Power] then [Secrecy].


    He would protect himself, then disable his opponent. It would allow him enough time to cross the distance. Then he would take advantage of his size. Hopefully that would be enough to give Veebee the chance to do what it wanted to do.


    Melmarc leaned slightly forward. He knew the standoff was coming to an end. He was extremely close to moving when a bright light glared into the office. It was white and blinding. It was also very distracting.


    Melmarc turned before he could stop himself. He was met with the sight of a silhouette of a man pointing two hands at the office.


    An attack? Melmarc thought, bracing for impact even though the man¡¯s hands were aimed at the second man behind the desk.


    The sound of erupting glass filled the room as the glass between the office and the helicopter shattered inwards. It was an explosion of glass that let in the loud whirling sound of the helicopter¡¯s blade.


    Then the man in the helicopter jumped into the building. The lights in the office flickered from the chaos of the impact but there was still more than enough of it for Melmarc to see what the man was wearing.


    What the hell? He thought. Is this some kind of movie shoot?


    Standing there was a man in¡­ spandex.


    He looked like a typical movie supervillain with the terrifying mask that looked like the lower part of a skull to complete the entire outfit, masking half of his face.


    Is this normal in this world?


    The new intruder didn¡¯t seem to pay Melmarc any attention. Instead, he had his entire attention focused on the man behind the desk. It took Melmarc a moment to correct himself. There was no man behind the desk anymore, and there was no desk.


    The man behind the desk was towards the edge of the room. His rings of mana still hovered over his shoulders, and he had his laptop in his hand. Whatever was on the laptop had to be gravely important if he¡¯d taken the time to save it.


    ¡°Shockwave,¡± the man muttered under his breath with a frown.


    So, he is a supervillain, Melmarc thought.


    He refused to believe that people carried legal names like Shockwave in this world.


    ¡°Hello, Norman,¡± Shockwave answered with a feral look in his eyes. The man had a baritone that sounded as if he screamed a lot for the fun of it. It was like a deep shrill.


    The man with the rings of mana, Norman, gave him an amused look. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be dealing with superheroes?¡±


    This world has active superheroes, too? Melmarc couldn¡¯t say that he wasn¡¯t impressed. He suddenly felt as if he¡¯d been transported into a comic book version of his world.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get back to that soon enough,¡± Shockwave answered, unfazed. ¡°For now, I¡¯m here for you.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Norman sighed. ¡°You¡¯re trying to show off for your sidekick. Where¡¯d you get this one, the back of a milk carton?¡±


    Melmarc turned his attention to the helicopter. What sidekick?


    The only other person in the helicopter was the pilot, and Melmarc could barely make the person out. The person could be male or female and he wouldn¡¯t be able to tell.


    It didn¡¯t matter in the end. What mattered to Melmarc was that one of both men was a bad guy and he knew who it was. Veebee hovered over to his side.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want our prey to die,¡± it said. ¡°If prey dies, no power¡­¡± it turned thoughtful. ¡°But no threat to [August Intruder]. Maybe we let prey die.¡±


    It sounded logical to Melmarc. But while it did, the possibility of increased power wasn¡¯t lost to him. He needed the man alive.


    Also, there was just something about the man¡¯s voice that was bothering him. It sounded vaguely familiar, like he¡¯d heard it before. It felt like being around one of those people who just have a familiar face. In this case, it was a familiar voice.


    Worse, it rubbed him wrong. It made him want to take a step back and hide away.


    Melmarc pushed the feeling aside with a bit of work. He had almost six extra points in strength, and that was when he wasn¡¯t counting the base stat. With those numbers, along with speed, he could make a difference.


    Shockwave gave the other man a confused look. ¡°What sidek¡ª¡±


    Melmarc moved.


    He blurred into motion, clearing the distance between him and the man called Shockwave. His fist cocked back, and with all the strength he could muster, he punched down, straight into the man¡¯s face. He would shatter his jaw in one blow and be done with it.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    But things didn¡¯t go his way.


    Shockwave turned, lightning fast, and caught the blow in his hand. The sound of the impact exploded in the room as if someone with big, muscular hands had just clapped with all his might.


    Shockwave¡¯s confusion turned to an angry frown.


    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± he asked.


    Melmarc pulled his fist away from the man¡¯s hand and threw two more punches. Shockwave stopped all three with the same raised hand. It gave the illusion of strength, but Melmarc knew that that was not what was happening.


    With each punch he¡¯d thrown, he¡¯d felt resistance before his fists made contact. It was always like punching through a thick foam. It displaced the force of his blows and slowed his speed before Shockwave caught each one.


    From what Melamrc had seen the man do with the glass windows and the name he was called, he came to the conclusion that the man was somehow stopping him with small bursts of shockwaves.


    So, he changed his strategy.


    Melmarc jumped back amidst the flickering lights and prepared himself to use [Secrecy]. With no shockwaves to get in his way, he could end everything faster.


    Shockwave¡¯s dismissal of him, however, gave him pause.


    ¡°Who¡¯s the runt?¡± the villain asked Norman. ¡°You sure he¡¯s not one of yours?¡±


    Norman looked between the both of them. ¡°No idea,¡± he answered. ¡°You barged in through my window and he barged in through the door.¡±


    Melmarc stood where he was, confused.


    Shockwave gave him a look, took him in with his eyes. ¡°One of those budding dark hunters, maybe?¡±


    Norman shrugged and Melmarc caught a wince of pain. It was slight but it had been there.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought before you showed up,¡± Norman answered. ¡°Hey, Shock, how about we do this? Let¡¯s all just go our separate ways. You in your chopper.¡± He turned to Melmarc. ¡°And you back out the door. Then we all come back once I¡¯m done with the portal in Kyoto. What do you say?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve got three level two hundreds out there already,¡± Shockwave replied. ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll miss you. Besides, you could lose your life to the portal, then how do I get paid?¡±


    Melmarc looked between both men, still confused. Despite his size, none of them treated him like a threat.


    Just how strong are they?


    Shockwave definitely hadn¡¯t been fazed when he¡¯d been disrupting Melmarc¡¯s punches. But Melmarc had attributed that to the man¡¯s confidence in his skills not his actual strength.


    ¡°So, this isn¡¯t a villain thing,¡± Norman said. ¡°It¡¯s an actual job. A hit.¡±


    Shockwave nodded. ¡°You¡¯re famous.¡±


    Norman ran a tired hand through his hair, the ring of mana on the arm¡¯s shoulder shifting to accommodate the action, then sighed. ¡°Was it the Oath?¡±


    So, they have Oaths here, too, Melmarc noted.


    Shockwave shook his head. ¡°That dude that¡¯s masquerading around as the Oath of Greed? Nah, dude didn¡¯t have the money to afford me.¡±


    ¡°Then is it¡ª¡±


    Norman didn¡¯t get to finish his sentence when Shockwave pointed an open palm at him. The ring of mana over his right shoulder shot forward. It stopped in front of him and expanded into the size of a hula hoop.


    The air exploded where it stood and Melmarc was already moving.


    Shockwave tossed a nonchalant blast at him. Melmarc saw nothing, only knew he¡¯d been attacked by the gesture of the hand. He dived out of the way, hitting the ground in a roll. The wall in the distance cracked with a small crater formed into it.


    The sound was explosive.


    Shockwave flung another blast at Norman. Again, nothing happened as it exploded where his ring hovered.


    Shockwave¡¯s eyes moved slowly to keep track of Melmarc. ¡°So, still a budding hunter I see. In the spirit of being an adult, I¡¯ll advise you to take the door and skedaddle.¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve loved to, but there was a villain right in front of him. An honest to God super villain. And he had Veebee¡¯s word that he would not die. He didn¡¯t think there was a better chance than this to test himself against another person.


    So, he charged Shockwave.


    [You have used skill Secrecy]


    [Remaining uses: 3/4]


    He sent the ring of mana flying from his good hand. It caught Shockwave¡¯s attention. As it moved through the air, the man sent a casual blast at it with what looked like a random gesture. As for Norman, he still stood casually behind his ring of mana.


    Shockwave¡¯s attack smacked into Melmarc¡¯s ring of mana and shattered on impact. Melmarc didn¡¯t see the skill as it moved but saw it shatter. It was like watching the space the ring crack into millions of pieces before shattering like glass.


    Shockwave¡¯s brows furrowed in a frown. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Then the ring of mana embedded itself in the ground where he stood. Shockwave only had one moment of confusion before it exploded.


    Melmarc darted straight into the explosion without hesitation. He threw a right hook into Shockwave¡¯s side. Shockwave moved a confident hand to meet it only for Melmarc¡¯s fist to punch straight through. The force sent Shockwave¡¯s hand flying and connected with his side. The blow was so powerful that shockwave¡¯s feet left the floor by almost an inch.


    Shockwave¡¯s eyes widened in pain and confusion before he hit the ground. Melmarc followed up with a left to the man¡¯s face. But rather than attempt to stop the blow once more, shockwave leaned away from it.


    Melmarc¡¯s fist went cascading to the side and Shockwave dropped two punches into Melmarc¡¯s side. It was like being struck by a child.


    Melmarc turned and swung a kick into Shockwave¡¯s side. The man moved quickly. Melmarc¡¯s height made it too easy for the man to duck the kick and come up with an uppercut. He clipped Melamrc in the jaw, moving too precisely with each attack, then backed away.


    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± Shockwave frowned.


    Melmarc ignored him and followed up. He sent a flurry of attacks while he caught Veebee move towards Norman in his periphery. As for Shockwave, the man barely avoided each attack Melmarc sent flying.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t attack straight, however. He went around the man, making sure that they kept moving in a circle so that they didn¡¯t leave the confines of the domain that [Secrecy] set.


    Melmarc¡¯s last attack made contact, struck Shockwave in the jaw. It rocked him but not well enough. Melmarc, however, staggered back.


    Shockwave looked up at him, rage in his eyes. The mask that had covered half of his face cracked, then crumbled.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he growled.


    Melmarc said nothing.


    ¡°Who taught a kid like you to fight like that?¡±


    Again, Melmarc said nothing. He simply took his form, kept his stance. To the side Veebee was hovering right next to Norman¡¯s massive ring of mana.


    ¡°A disabler with combat skills,¡± Shockwave continued, his anger slowly subsiding. ¡°A possible dark hunter. No. Not a dark hunter. You¡¯re from the Legion, aren¡¯t you. That useless group playing at league of doom. I¡¯ll put you down and go after them later.¡±


    He struck even before his words were finished.


    Shockwave crossed the distance between them in a quick step and came to a stop in front of Melmarc. Melmarc threw an immediate jab, but Shockwave was already moving before he¡¯d thrown it. The man had baited him into it.


    The moment the jab ended, Shockwave threw one of his own. Melmarc leaned away as well but the villain was not done, striking with a leg kick. Melmarc hopped back, barely avoiding it. Forced to fight without his powers Shockwave was proving that he wasn¡¯t someone that depended solely on his skills.


    Melmarc followed with a flurry of punches, controlling his speed, holding back. Shockwave weaved and ducked under each one, moving back and away. With his size, Melmarc had the advantage of reach.


    Shockwave found an opening and threw a punch. It was faster than the others he¡¯d thrown. The switch up in the speed distracted Melmarc and the jab slipped through his defense to take strike him straight in the jaw.


    Again, it was like being struck by a child.


    He shook it off easily.


    ¡°You¡¯re new to this,¡± Shockwave commented. ¡°Trained, but not in real life situations. You¡¯ll be easy.¡±


    Melmarc attacked again. If the man was trying to goad him, it wasn¡¯t working. Not when the man hit like a child.


    Melmarc attacked again, increasing his speed. Shockwave dodged some more, weaved and bobbed. Strain was beginning to show on his face, Melmarc¡¯s speed was oppressing him. One of Melmarc¡¯s fists went for his face and Shockwave blocked it with a raised hand. Melmarc struck the man¡¯s wrist where it should¡¯ve been his face.


    He felt the wrist give under the weight of his blow. Shockwave grimaced and threw a punch of his own just a moment before [Secrecy] shattered around them, its effect coming to an end.


    Melmarc raised a hand and took the blow to the wrist as well.


    Then Shockwave switched up his attacks. He closed in immediately and started throwing elbow strikes. Melmarc moved, evading, leaning away. He tried to increase the space between them but Shockwave would not allow it.


    The man went low, arms forward, he rushed one of Melmarc¡¯s legs. Melmarc moved the leg out of the way, only to narrowly avoid a flying knee that followed.


    It took Melmarc only a moment to realize what was happening. He¡¯d probably broken the man¡¯s wrist in that one blow he¡¯d blocked, so the man had switched to elbows and knees, changed his fighting style.


    The man rushed forward, went for Melmarc¡¯s legs again. This time, Melmarc did not avoid it. Instead, he leaned forward and stopped the man with a hand to the face. It halted the man in his tracks and presented Melmarc with a gauged distance. Before Shockwave could move away, Melmarc swung down.


    His punch caught Shockwave in the face, staggering him. When his head drooped slightly forward, Melmarc followed with an upper cut. That, too, connected. Sent the man staggering farther back.


    Three more blows had the man wobbling on his feet. Then Shockwave went defensive, locked himself in behind raised hands and a rounded back. Melmarc rushed forward, stepped into him. Shockwave¡¯s raised arms tightened in front of him, cut off the path to his face.


    Melmarc was sure he could brute force his way through it but didn¡¯t. Instead, his feet carried him to Shockwave¡¯s side with a single side step, then he threw another upper cut. With his arms tightened in front of him, there was a path beneath that was open.


    Melmarc¡¯s hand trailed that path and connected with the man¡¯s nose. It lifted the man¡¯s head from behind his protective hands and Melmarc rocked his jaw with a straight fist.


    Shockwave dropped to his knees, hands limp at his side.


    A wide smile split Melmarc¡¯s face in victory. He felt a large bout of achievement. He¡¯d just defeated an honest to God supervillain. Yes, he didn¡¯t allow the man use his skills but that was all a part of strategy. You disabled your enemy in a fight if you could, and he had.


    He almost didn¡¯t stop himself from pumping a fist in the air in celebration.


    ¡°That was impressive.¡±


    The baritone dragged Melmarc from his moment of revery. Turning, he found Norman looking at him with an impressed and fond look.


    ¡°Your first villain?¡± Norman asked. He obviously couldn¡¯t see Veebee hovering beside his ring.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that. And the fact that Norman still had his ring up meant the man hadn¡¯t completely ruled him out as a threat.


    ¡°So what are you?¡± Norman asked. ¡°A dark hunter? You¡¯re young, but a dark hunter would¡¯ve gone after me not,¡± he gestured at Shockwave, ¡°him.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes darted to Veebee. It was studying the ring.


    Norman mistook Melmarc¡¯s attention and gave the ring a momentary glance.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± he said. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t touch it, you¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Again, Melmarc couldn¡¯t shake the voice. He knew it. But more importantly, why did it make him want to curl up into someone¡¯s arms and hide.


    He was getting there. Melmarc knew it. He just needed a little push and he would know why the voice sounded so fami¡ª


    ¡°Being a dark hunter¡¯s no good, kid,¡± Norman said suddenly. ¡°It¡¯s a waste. You¡¯ve got potential, that¡¯s a fact. The potential to be one of the strongest in a few years.¡± He winced slightly, staggered, then caught himself with a swear under his breath. ¡°Just give it a chance. In fact, I could give you my protection from the dark hunters for a while. Until you really come into your powers.¡±


    Veebee touched its hand to the ring testily. It flinched away from it as if it had been burnt. Still, it didn¡¯t stop there. It hovered around the ring, watching it from different angles.


    Norman grimaced again and Veebee¡¯s head perked up when the ring flickered as if it would go out.


    Melmarc got that feeling again, as if his shirt¡¯s collar wasn¡¯t well positioned. He shrugged his shoulders and this time it felt as if he almost got it in place.


    A notification popped up in front of him.


    [You cannot establish dominance.]


    ¡­


    [This world has no August Intruder.]


    [No one has been alerted of your presence.]


    The notification was gone the moment he was done reading it. However, something clicked into place. The voice, the rings. Melmarc knew why the voice scared him. His stomach itched where a scar had once been.


    Last chance. The words echoed in Melmarc¡¯s head, words said to his mother on a terrifying night while Ark had held on to him. You might not have a health bar but I¡¯ve done this enough to know when your HP is low.


    Rage welled up inside Melmarc. He knew the man. He knew the voice. He knew the skill. He knew anger.


    He took a step towards Norman.


    ¡°Think about this, kid,¡± Norman said, voice imploring. ¡°You don¡¯t have to try this.¡±


    ¡°You!¡± Melmarc hissed. ¡°You!¡±


    Veebee turned, startled at Melmarc¡¯s voice. Its eyes seemed to narrow for a moment. It looked as if it was thinking about something, considering.


    Don¡¯t you dare stop me, Veebee, Melmarc thought, his anger building. I¡¯m going to kill him.


    Melmarc took another step forward, Norman¡¯s second ring of mana moved into place, and Veebee opened its mouth.


    It bit down on the large ring of mana and it shattered. Norman roared in pain the moment it shattered and dropped to his knees. He held onto his head, screaming and yelling. Tears welled up in his eyes. Melmarc hesitated at the sight as the second ring of mana, the smaller one was drawn into Veebee like a mist.


    The fragments of the shattered ring followed immediately after and Veebee darted straight to Melmarc.


    Something about the look in its eyes didn¡¯t sit right with Melmarc and Melmarc ran towards Norman.


    ¡°He tried to kill my mom!¡± he roared as Veebee¡¯s hand connected with him.


    Melmarc knew what was happening before it even happened. One moment he was reaching out to Norman as the man writhed in pain on the ground. The next moment he was standing with nothing but inky blue, swirling like a room of deep smoke around him.


    Veebee had taken him away from there.


    Melmarc rounded on the creature in anger. ¡°WHY?!¡±


    Veebee met his anger head on. It did not flinch. It just stared at him, watched him.


    ¡°You were the one that wanted me to kill him!¡± Melmarc hissed when it said nothing. ¡°Why did you stop me?!¡±


    Veebee cocked its head to the side.


    ¡°Killing not bad,¡± it said, voice confused but certain. ¡°But murder wrong. Melmarc tell Veebee this. Melmarc not murder.¡±


    Melmarc stared at it. His anger was there, but now there was nowhere to channel it to. No one to place its burden upon.


    So, he just stood there. Empty.


    Veebee hovered in the air in front of him as silent as he was.


    ¡­


    Norman writhed in pain, groaning and screaming. He¡¯d experienced a lot of pain in his life but this was unbearable. It threatened to unmake him.


    It was as if all his organs were dying at the same time.


    His stomach squeezed in on itself and his lungs tried to break like glass. Norman¡¯s voice filled the room, going beyond it. In some misplaced part of his mind, he felt the helicopter outside lean towards the building hesitantly before flying off.


    His mind tried to think through the pain, tried to push past it to figure out if the helicopter was going to bring reinforcements. But no matter how much his mind tried, it couldn¡¯t peek beyond the blanket of pain in his head.


    Norman couldn¡¯t hear himself think beyond the pain and his own screams.


    Then it disappeared, vanished as if it had never been.


    But it was not gone. Norman knew this with childlike certainty. It had merely converted itself. Changed itself into something else.


    Norman¡¯s eyes focused to look at what it had converted itself into. His interface stared right back.


    [Dear Norman Black, you have learnt the necessary concepts of humanity and lived to embody them. Above all, you have learnt pain, a pain that pushes you beyond human limit.]


    [You have been offered a chance at evolution. You have treaded a path that would send most to madness and survived it. Upon that path your world makes you an offer. A promise.]


    [Ascend to Oath-hood.]


    [Y/N?]


    Norman knew what Oath-hood was. He knew what it meant to become an Oath. The Oath of greed had gained the title and had become nigh invincible. He ruled China with an iron fist now. To become an Oath was to become powerful.


    The Oath of Greed had also changed when he¡¯d become an Oath, something about him had become stronger, more powerful.


    Sometimes Norman had wondered if becoming an Oath would heal his pain. But that was only sometimes. He had since come to terms with his pain now. But it didn¡¯t change what his answer would be.


    Only the mad refused power in a world riddled with portals.


    Yes.


    [You cannot renege on this decision.]


    ...


    [Your world welcomes you¡­]


    [¡­ Oath of Pain]

 EIGHTY-SIX: My Name

    ¡°But murder wrong. Melmarc tell Veebee this. Melmarc not murder.¡±


    The words shook Melmarc to silence. It was true, he had technically told the creature that Murder was wrong. And even if the man had tried to kill his mother, it didn¡¯t make murder any better.


    I don¡¯t care, Melmarc thought.


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc groaned, running a hand down his face. At this point he was beginning to wonder if there was really nothing he could do to turn it off. He didn¡¯t need it contradicting him every time he tried to lie to himself.


    Veebee waited patiently as Melmarc gathered his thoughts and his composure. He still wanted the man dead but there was nothing he could do about it right now. Not in this moment.


    A thought came to him as he gathered himself and he allowed it to distract him. When he¡¯d met Veebee, the creature had felt powerful and beyond reproach. Even now, from how a Delver like Saxi had reacted to it, it seemed very powerful.


    Yet, it had said that on its own it could not cross worlds. Not the way it had taken him to the other world. It had said that it needed him to perform the feet. The question was why.


    He looked up at it. ¡°Why can¡¯t you go to other worlds on your own?¡±


    ¡°Because Veebee Void beast. Veebee not have existence points to use. Veebee only powerful inside void between worlds.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed for a moment. Veebee did not have existence points, which meant that existence points were needed to move through worlds.


    ¡°Can I move through worlds with my existence points?¡± he asked.


    Maybe he could find his way back if he learnt how to do it. He could finish what Veebee had not allowed him to start.


    Veebee¡¯s reply, however, killed that line of thought.


    ¡°[August Intruder] not void beast,¡± it said. ¡°Void beast and other void people use power to move.¡±


    ¡°But you don¡¯t have Existence points,¡± he pointed out. ¡°Or has yours finished?¡±


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°Void beast and void people just not have existence points.¡±


    ¡°But you know how to use them to cross worlds.¡± It wasn¡¯t making much sense. It sounded like someone telling you they knew how to run but were born without legs.


    It could sound like it made sense, but if you really thought about it, it was difficult to believe. It was like knowing how to fly with wings even though you don¡¯t have wings.


    ¡°Then how do you know how to travel?¡±


    Veebee looked around, confused. It looked as if it was looking for a way to dumb down an already dumbed down concept to him.


    After a while it swiped a casual hand at the inky blue that surrounded them and a lump of the cloud seemed to come away with it.


    Veebee held it up for Melmarc to see. ¡°Like this?¡±


    So it just can?


    ¡°So you just can?¡± he asked.


    Veebee paused to give it a thought. After a moment that seemed like it was going to tell him no, it settled for a reluctant shrug.


    ¡°Yes,¡± it said.


    Melmarc gave it a look. ¡°The answer is not yes, you just can¡¯t find an easier way to explain it for me to understand.¡±


    Veebee gave it a thought once more, this time the pause was shorter. Then it smiled. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Melmarc sighed. He definitely did not like feeling dumb.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°So you used me to get there.¡±


    ¡°Veebee use existence points to get there.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°You used my existence points to get there.¡±


    Veebee nodded.


    Melmarc hurried to pull up his points. His lips pressed into a thin line of dismay at what he saw.


    [Remaining EP 6988]


    He¡¯d had plans for those points. Well, not actual plans but plans in the making. Now those plans had been affected.


    ¡°You should¡¯ve told me,¡± he complained.


    He wasn¡¯t really angry at Veebee, just annoyed at the loss without his knowledge. He was sure the thing hadn¡¯t really given it much thought.


    Besides, it was the only way it could answer my¡ª


    Melmarc paused. The only excuse it could have for taking him to the other world besides trying to get him to eat someone was to keep the others from being a part of the conversation regarding what an [August Intruder] was.


    He turned around and found that they were the only ones present. Which meant that it could¡¯ve just taken them to a different space. So, it hadn¡¯t had to¡­


    ¡°Veebee,¡± he said, hoping his current speculation was wrong.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Are you still using my existence points?¡±


    Veebee nodded. ¡°It is why we are here.¡±


    As if with all intents of making fun of him, Melmarc¡¯s interface popped up once more.


    [Remaining EP 6969]


    ¡°Veebee, stop using my [EP],¡± he groaned.


    Veebee looked confused. ¡°You can always get more [EP].¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how Veebee thought the world worked but he couldn¡¯t just go around hopping into portals. It wasn¡¯t like they showed up conveniently for him to deal with.


    ¡°I can¡¯t always get more [EP],¡± he explained. ¡°There aren¡¯t so many portals in my world, and I can¡¯t just go hopping into them. In my world there are rules. Besides, easy portals will be safer for me, but I doubt they¡¯ll give me a lot of [EP].¡±


    Veebee cocked its head to the side. ¡°Melmarc not need portal to get [EP]. [August Intruder] not need permission to enter portal.¡±


    It said the words like it was merely stating a matter of fact.


    But it was wrong, Melmarc certainly needed permission to enter portals¡­ Unless¡­


    If he was always alerted of portals near him, that meant that he would always be the first person to know of the existence and location of a portal. He could just find it and go into¡­


    Calm down. You¡¯re getting ahead of yourself.


    This encounter with a portal had been a very truly rare occasion. And he wasn¡¯t talking about how easily he¡¯d found it. He was talking about how he¡¯d found it and survived it.


    Nobody solo¡¯d a portal. It wasn¡¯t done. In fact, there were stories of people entering a portal alone and never coming back. At least not alive.


    He had been lucky with this portal, and that was all there was to it. He wasn¡¯t going to go around jumping into portals. It was a sure way to die.


    And what if he ran into a different void beast and it just decided to give him an ¡®easy¡¯ personal quest and have him kill another Demi-god?


    No. Melmarc shook his head.


    Even if he could theoretically be the first into portals around him, and could get away without getting into the other array of troubles that could come with an unsanctioned portal entry, he wasn¡¯t going to do it.


    He would die.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just go around closing portals, Veebee,¡± he told the creature. ¡°I¡¯ll die.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Veebee asked. ¡°You don¡¯t trust your Oaths? If they refuse to help, you can always convince them with EP.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Wait. Oaths can use [EP]?¡±


    Veebee nodded. ¡°Every being capable of using mana can use [EP].¡±


    Then why hasn¡¯t anyone said anything about it?


    Was [EP] one of those secrets those in power kept away from the rest of the world like they always did in Delano¡¯s conspiracy theories?


    ¡°Is that why Oaths are strong?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°Your Oath of Madness is weak. Very weak Oath of Madness.¡±


    ¡°Is it because my dad has not been using his [EP]?¡±


    What else could his dad possibly be using them for if not to make himself stronger?


    ¡°Oath of Madness not have [EP] to use,¡± Veebee said. ¡°So Oath of Madness weak.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s expression changed, it reduced to placidity as whatever attention he was giving it went to his thoughts. Veebee had just said that everything capable of using mana could use [EP], yet his father was week.


    With how often his parents had always been away from home for work, it would¡¯ve been safe to assume that they would¡¯ve gathered a handful of the stuff.


    If that was not the case, then a few things came to mind. For one, Veebee was not the least bit bothered or surprised at the fact that his father was weak for his Oath. So it was not surprised that his father was not growing the way Melmarc knew he could grow with the [EP].


    The Oaths could get stronger with [EP] but his father did not have [EP]. Melmarc¡¯s mind was already coming to a possible answer as to the reason for that. After all, Veebee had asked him to ask for their assistance using [EP].


    ¡°Veebee,¡± he started in an attempt to confirm what he was thinking. ¡°Do any of the people I came back with have [EP]?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± it answered. ¡°And they should not.¡±


    Melmarc knew the reason. ¡°They can use [EP],¡± he said slowly. ¡°But they can¡¯t get [EP].¡±


    Veebee nodded.


    Melmarc almost laughed.


    He had wished all his life for the power to become strong. Then he¡¯d gotten it in the form of [EP] amongst other things.


    Now Veebee was telling him that he could also become politically strong? He didn¡¯t even need to think to find out if there was any Gifted alive that would turn down the chance to get stronger through this method.


    With just the amount of [EP] he had, he could increase his stats to a point that people could only achieve if they gained a cumulative total of fifty percent mastery in their skills.


    I¡¯ll start with me, Melmarc was already thinking. Then dad, then mom, then Ark¡­ Then Eroms. Then¡­ wait¡­


    His mind reeled him back in. Somehow the entire thing sounded too good to be true.


    ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± he blurted out.


    ¡°Catch?¡± Veebee asked. It looked around, frowned. ¡°Did Veebee throw something?¡±


    It scratched the back of its head.


    Melmarc sighed. ¡°Not that. I mean, what¡¯s the downside to using [EP]?¡±


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°No downside.¡±


    At this point, the creature was taking any chance it could to use actions along with its words. It was like a child that had just learned something new and wanted to tire it out.


    Melmarc liked to think of himself as a realist not a pessimist, so whenever something seemed too good to be true, then there was a very high chance that it was too good to be true.


    ¡°You¡¯re saying that there are no downsides?¡± he asked. He was giving Veebee a look, in case he could scare it into telling him the truth. He wasn¡¯t sure if such a tactic would work. He¡¯d mostly seen it used on children by parents.


    It had also worked a few times on the creature, so it was worth a shot.


    ¡°No downside,¡± Veebee answered.


    Maybe I¡¯m not asking the question correctly.


    Veebee had said he should ask the Oaths for help, not any other Gifted. At the time he¡¯d assumed that it probably had something to do with the relationship between Oaths and the [August Intruder] designation.


    ¡°So nothing bad will happen if an Oath uses it too much?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Oath will grow stronger than [August Intruder],¡± Veebee answered. ¡°I will not advise.¡±


    Joke¡¯s on you, Melmarc chuckled. All the Oaths in his world were most likely already stronger than him. But he got the picture.


    ¡°What happens if I use it on an F-rank?¡± he asked. ¡°What if I give it¡ªthem¡ªenough to push them to the next rank.¡±


    Veebee paused. ¡°Existence evolution? Forced Existence evolution?¡± It gave it a thought then shrugged. ¡°It probably die. You should try.¡± It paused again. ¡°No. It definitely die. But you should try. You learn something new¡­ probably.¡±


    Melmarc frowned. So that¡¯s what it¡¯s called. Existence evolution.


    From what he¡¯d learned about Veebee so far, it was easy to piece together what that meant. In simpler terms, it was like a species evolution. The Gifted would be going from a rank F human to a rank E human.


    ¡°Why will they die, though?¡± the moment the words left his mouth, Melmarc remembered that their current state was eating into his [EP] and almost grimaced.


    ¡°Because too strong,¡± Veebee answered. ¡°Not all existence capable of evolving. Some existence reach one point and stop. You force it to evolve and body destroy.¡±


    Born with the potential for greatness but limited by the body, Melmarc thought.


    ¡°What of an S-rank?¡± he asked. ¡°The same thing?¡±


    ¡°Not the same. S-rank easier to evolve than F-rank. F-rank not strong, need time to grow to evolve. S-rank strong. Oath and SS-rank strongest.¡±


    I was an Oath, Caldath¡¯s words floated in Melmarc¡¯s head. I was Madness.


    Worried, he asked, ¡°What happens if I give an Oath enough to evolve?¡±


    ¡°Oath become stronger Oath.¡±


    ¡°What if it evolves beyond an Oath?¡±


    ¡°Oath become Sapient Oath.¡±


    ¡°And what if it evolves beyond a Sapient Oath?¡±


    ¡°Not happen before?¡±


    ¡°What if it happens?¡±


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Veebee not think possible.¡± It looked around, at the space around them.


    Its expression changed. Something else was different about it, though.


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Veebee, are you glowing?¡±


    Veebee paused to look down at itself. It smiled. ¡°Veebee glowing.¡±


    ¡°Should I be concerned?¡±


    ¡°No. Veebee glowing good thing.¡± It pointed at itself. ¡°Means Veebee plan work.¡±


    ¡°What plan?¡±


    ¡°Plan Veebee come up with because you not eat threat.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what else to say to that. ¡°So what does that mean for me¡­ and you?¡±


    ¡°It mean Veebee can help [August Intruder] get stronger and develop immunity.¡± It sounded genuinely excited, and not the kind that came from it trying to imitate human emotions and expression. ¡°For Veebee, it mean that bond to you stronger. Veebee safe.¡±


    ¡°Veebee safe?¡± Melmarc gave it a look. ¡°Where you in trouble, Veebee? Can I help?¡±


    ¡°Veebee not in trouble. Veebee always safe. Veebee just safer.¡±


    You¡¯re running out of [EP], Melmarc scolded himself. Get the answers you need and get out.


    ¡°Can I continue asking questions if Veebee takes me back?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Veebee not allowed to answer if Veebee go back,¡± it said simply.


    Melmarc almost cussed, surprising himself. It wasn¡¯t that he never cussed, it was just that he always knew when he was going to cuss. Unlike Ark, it was not an involuntary action.


    ¡°So I can give anybody, [EP] and they will get stronger,¡± he said, talking fast now. ¡°It¡¯s just that it might kill some of them.¡±


    Veebee nodded.


    That was good to know. It didn¡¯t give him something detailed, but he could work with it. In summary, be careful with who you give [EP] to.


    ¡°And no matter how much I give an Oath nothing will go wrong?¡±


    Veebee was back to looking around again as it glowed a soft blue. ¡°Nothing go wrong. Oaths and Sapient beings can take all [EP].¡±


    Melmarc was slightly worried now that Veebee was looking around. It had said something about being safe now. But he couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it was looking around in case something else was watching them or listening in.


    ¡°What of¡­¡± Melmarc hesitated with his next question considering what he¡¯d just done inside the portal. He had a feeling that the question would be frowned upon but it was important for him to know. ¡°What of becoming a Demi-go¡ª¡±


    ¡°NO!¡±


    It was a single word. Strong and powerful. Worse, Veebee had opened its mouth to utter it. It also looked very feral. Whatever disturbance the idea had given it had been enough to draw it away from whatever it was looking out for.


    Melmarc raised his hands in surrender and took a step back. ¡°No,¡± he agreed. ¡°I won¡¯t ask.¡±


    Those were two emotions he had seen from Veebee that did not look like imitations. Anger and excitement.


    He wondered what Demi-gods did to get a bad rep. Is it Demi-gods it hates or people trying to become Demi-gods?


    ¡°So only the Oaths can really help me.¡± Melmarc still wasn¡¯t completely sure of what it meant.


    ¡°Others can help,¡± Veebee said. ¡°But¡­ King need army but also general to lead army? Also, [August Intruder] need Oaths.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc could understand needing his parents, but why the other Oaths.


    How was he even supposed to find them? He was just now learning what Oaths truly were. Before getting into the portal he¡¯d always thought that Oaths were just government positions or something like that since his parents answered them.


    ¡°Because Oaths are [August Intruder].¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­ what?¡± Melmarc stared at it. ¡°There are more [August Intruder]s?¡±


    Veebee stared ahead in thought. With his soft glow he looked like cupid from the stories, without the wings and the cuteness and the wings and the¡­


    I guess it just looks like a glowing chibi?


    ¡°Not correct sentence,¡± Veebee said after a while. ¡°Oaths are a part of [August Intruder]?¡±


    ¡°Veebee.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Are you asking or telling?¡± Melmarc¡¯s mind was also trying to help Veebee explain it to him. ¡°How are Oaths a part of me?¡±


    ¡°[August Intruder] is the peak form of their species,¡± it said. ¡°And Oaths are embodiments of concepts.¡±


    ¡°And the peak form of the species is supposed to embody at least one of the concepts?¡± Melmarc remembered what Naymond had said about the possibility of Oaths passing down their traits.


    And even though he asked what he asked, in his mind he knew that the question was not the question he wanted to ask.


    ¡°One of the concepts?¡± Veebee looked at him. ¡°The [August Intruder] will embody all of the concepts.¡±


    ¡°Do I have to?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to.¡±


    Melmarc let out a sigh of relief.


    ¡°You will,¡± Veebee finished. ¡°You don¡¯t have choice. You will embody it. You will master it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I will need the Oaths,¡± Melmarc realized.


    ¡°Each one embodies one concept. Learning from them will make mastery easy. You learn and they benefit.¡±


    That was not a good thing to hear. Melmarc was already having a hard time with whatever was happening to him. Since he¡¯d gained [Optimum Existence].


    ¡°How many concepts are there?¡± he tried, hoping.


    ¡°Different numbers for different species.¡± Veebee shrugged. ¡°Humans have many. Too many. And contradicting. Is why they get along with demons more.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you suggested that I make friends with a [Demon King]?¡±


    Veebee nodded. ¡°Demons and humans love and hate each other. They make good friends.¡±


    Melmarc almost laughed. You don¡¯t know the half of it.


    Whatever humor he had died as he thought about the Oaths, the concepts. He only knew of two, but Naymond had made it sound like there were a lot more. That was one thing he needed to confirm; how many concepts he had running around in his brain.


    At this point, he was going to have put the progress increase of [Optimum Existence] on hold until he really knew what he was getting involved in.


    Veebee¡¯s frowned suddenly. Its attention snapped around them and Melmarc could feel its worry.


    Then its scow turned into a frown.


    ¡°We leave,¡± it said abruptly. ¡°Now.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to say something, but Veebee was not done talking.


    ¡°Being an [August Intruder] comes with powerful benefits,¡± it said, its ¡®cute¡¯ tone vanishing. ¡°But it comes with a lot of greater risks. You cannot tell anyone what you have learnt. If you do, then they bear the same risks that you bear but without the benefits.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to say something now, anything, only to find himself suddenly standing among everybody he¡¯d left in the portal tunnel.


    ¡°Veebee?¡±


    Veebee was looking around.


    ¡°Mel.¡± Deoti rushed forward and pulled him by the arm. ¡°What happened? Where did you go?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, aunt Deoti,¡± Mel answered absently.


    His attention, however, was focused more on Veebee. The creature looked worried. If the others were worried by Veebee¡¯s presence, then Melmarc could only imagine what could make Veebee worried.


    ¡°Veebee?¡± Melmarc tried again.


    His father, however, had other plans. ¡°Mel, we have to go. The portal world has collapsed. This pathway will soon.¡±


    Melmarc looked around and his father was right. He couldn¡¯t see anything, but he could feel it. Somehow the place wasn¡¯t stable. It continued to give him that feeling, the one that felt like something was off, like he was wearing his shirt wrong. But it was worse, horrible.


    Like an itch he needed to scratch but didn¡¯t know where it was.


    ¡°Portal open,¡± Veebee said, expression turning serious. ¡°Oath of Madness, get bloodline to safety.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s father didn¡¯t have to be told twice. He was already walking towards the exit, Melmarc¡¯s arm in his hand.


    Melmarc followed reluctantly while the others were already walking ahead, more than ready to leave the space.


    Nelson passed Melmarc and he was once again reminded of what had happened within the portal. Claire¡¯s lifeless face met his gaze. Her eyes were closed, and she looked at peace.


    He was reminded of the fact that she was dead.


    A casualty of war.


    Melmarc frowned at the thought. Not now.


    There were more important things that he had to handle right now.


    ¡°Veebee, answer me.¡±


    His father had pulled him to the exit portal now. Even standing in front of it, it was like standing in front of a portal on the other side. They couldn¡¯t see what was on the other side of it.


    The team that had been sent to rescue him had gone first. His father¡¯s team was already going through.


    Veebee was still looking around.


    ¡°Veebee!¡±


    Veebee turned to him and hovered directly in front of him. Then it placed both hands on Melmarc¡¯s face.


    Melmarc felt an odd chill trickle into him from where it touched him. Veebee remained there, holding on to his face, allowing the chill trickle into him.


    ¡°What is happening, Veebee?¡± Melmarc asked, now truly worried.


    A line spread as a mouth, it was smiling. ¡°You will be given an offer at some point in time. The opportunity for an aid. It will cost you [EP]. It will be a lot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll save,¡± Melmarc said.


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°You won¡¯t. You will grow. Your [EP] is for you to grow. Grow. Get me when you have what you need to get me. When you¡¯re strong enough.¡±


    It was being too serious.


    ¡°Veebee, what¡¯s happening?¡± he asked.


    Veebee shrugged. ¡°A few things. But do not concern yourself with it.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s father was already through the portal and his hold on Melmarc¡¯s arm was pulling him through.


    Melmarc was already halfway through the portal when another thought came to him. It filled him with panic as he realized that he would soon be gone and had no idea when next he would get to meet Veebee.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember your name!¡± he called out as the portal started sucking him in. ¡°I don¡¯t remember it.¡±


    Veebee smiled sadly. ¡°My name Veebee.¡±


    Then Melmarc was gone.


    ¡­


    The moment the boy disappeared, sucked through the portal and back to his world, Veebee¡¯s demeanor changed.


    ¡°And now they come,¡± it muttered to itself.


    It couldn¡¯t show weakness. Not here, not now. And that would be easy, because it wasn¡¯t weak, not anymore.


    The nature of the portal shattered around it, then each fragment peeled away like the skin of living things.


    Veebee was left in darkness.


    As it so often was whenever there was no portal to govern or control or guide.


    The darkness warped around itself in one corner and Veebee turned to face it. In this void there was no sense of direction. No up or down. No left or right.


    Still, the darkness warped from a position that would be considered over him if there was direction.


    Then a creature stood there. It was a [Nenit] with its chubby stomach, short legs and long arms. It had a face that resembled a human child, the ones that had wings and arrows in their memories.


    ¡°Void-beast designation 12849,¡± it said casually. ¡°You have committed crimes, abused your powers, and done something completely against the laws of existence. You are to be rearranged. And I am here to execute that punishment.¡±


    Veebee stood where it was, unbothered. It gave no answer.


    ¡°You have been charged with aiding in the self-evolution of a sapient being, acting in your self-interest,¡± the [Nenit] continued. ¡°You have been charged with manipulating events of a quest. You have been charged with showing favoritism towards the beings that serve the greater cause of existence. You have been charged with orchestrating the production of your own sustenance. You have been charged with terminating a life that showed you no true disrespect. How do you plead?¡±


    Veebee straightened up. ¡°Guilty.¡±


    The [Nenit] frowned. It was a disgusting thing to look at. A caricature of human expressions in Veebee¡¯s opinion.


    ¡°By laws of existence, you are to be rearranged. A punishment that I will now carry out.¡±


    Veebee shook its head. ¡°You are not allowed.¡±


    The creature paused. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I have made contact with a sapient being,¡± it said. ¡°And not just a sapient being, an [August Intruder]. By laws of the void, I am to be reposed not rearranged. We would not want a repeat of the [August Intruder] of Relimat.¡±


    There was no creature of the void that did not know of the [August Intruder] of Relimat. She had met a void-beast once and developed a kinship the other void-beasts had not been aware of.


    Then they had rearranged the void-beast. Years later, she had grown powerful and gotten an aid. And not just powerful, but truly powerful.


    When she¡¯d found out what had happened to the void-beast, she had wreaked havoc that had spanned millennia and cut vastly across existence. Eventually, it had taken two [Demon Kings] three [Demi-gods] and one [Creator] to stop her.


    Sadly, existence was still dealing with the repercussions of the damage she had caused.


    Ever since, the law of the void had rearranged itself. Void beasts that had made contact with Sapient beings such as an [August Intruder] until it had an aid and had been properly updated on the crimes of the void-beast.


    The [Nenit] knew this. Veebee knew this.


    The [Nenit¡¯s] frown became a scowl. ¡°You abuse the law.¡±


    Veebee shrugged. ¡°I abused my delegated power. What is the law in the face of that?¡±


    ¡°Void-beast designation 12849 You are reposed.¡±


    The [Nenit¡¯s] voice rippled through the darkness. Veebee felt it take purchase of him as the [Nenit] used its delegated position over it.


    The words tried to bind it for only a moment before it slipped from it, failing.


    The [Nenit] frowned. ¡°What did you¡­¡±


    Its voice trailed off as its gaze went to the emptiness just above Veebee¡¯s head and Veebee knew what it saw.


    It didn¡¯t matter what you were or what authority you possessed over a void-beast, to repose or rearrange it, you needed something that wasn¡¯t the easiest to get unless you possessed authority over it.


    The [Nenit] definitely possessed the required authority over it. But it had not had its name. Not its true name. So it had called upon its power to get it. Now the name stared at it and it stared back.


    ¡°Unfortunate,¡± the creature said. ¡°And now, you will have to declare it.¡±


    Veebee knew. It had declared it once before. It didn¡¯t mind declaring it again. In fact, it was happy to.


    ¡°My name Veebee.¡±


    The darkness rippled around it as it declared itself to the void.


    The [Nenit] shook its head solemnly. ¡°It has been too long since a Void-beast has done what you¡¯ve done before gaining a master. You know why that is.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°And what happens when the Sapient being does not choose you?¡±


    ¡°Then Veebee will have no master.¡±


    To Veebee¡¯s surprise the [Nenit] sighed.


    ¡°Veebee,¡± it said. ¡°You are reposed.¡±


    The darkness curled around Veebee.


    In a moment, Veebee was gone.


    Veebee had only one regret as it was banished into nothingness; it hadn¡¯t gotten to eat the Delver¡¯s corpse Melmarc had given it.


    ¡­


    The moment Melmarc stepped back into the world the first thing he noticed was how thin the air was. Maybe thin wasn¡¯t the word he was looking for, but it definitely felt like it. It was as if the mana was clean but not enough, whereas the mana in the portal had been enough but not clean at all. While the mana in the other world hadn¡¯t been really noticeable enough to judge.


    The second thing he felt was the annoying sensation of his shirt worn wrongly. At this point it was becoming an annoying thing. He¡¯d been feeling it since leaving the ruins and nothing he¡¯d done had solved the problem.


    While everybody gathered their thoughts, Saxi moved immediately.


    There were four people in the room, and Melmarc recognized them. Detective Alfa who looked exhausted, the Blight¡ªwhich was amazing since Melmarc had never seen the man in person before¡ªanother detective he remembered was called Nan, and a police officer in uniform.


    The Blight got up from sitting on the ground next to Alfa and took a stance that was half offensive and half defensive, as if he was unsure of what he wanted to do.


    Saxi ignored everybody and made his way to the exit, there, he poked his head out.


    ¡°Nobody,¡± he said, pulling his head back in.


    Deoti nodded, then turned to Naymond. ¡°You stay here, clear up the mess.¡±


    Naymond stepped comfortably behind Melmarc. Covered by Melmarc¡¯s size, he poked his head out and said, ¡°You ain¡¯t the boss of me.¡±


    Melmarc looked down at him and the man gave him a sheepish smile.


    Melmarc¡¯s face squeezed into a frown. The discomfort he felt was stronger. Heavier. At this point it was as if his shirt was now trying to rip at his skin if he didn¡¯t adjust it.


    It felt as if the shirt was rejecting him, as if it would take itself off if he didn¡¯t adjust it. So he did.


    He reached for his collar and pulled it into place while Alfa¡¯s eyes focused squarely on him and her mouth opened as if she had something to say.


    Before she could say whatever it was, something happened.


    The feeling Melmarc was suffering disappeared. It righted itself as if adjusting his shirt had done something. The mana in the air, as thin as it was, started getting denser. It gathered to him, pulled towards him as if he was some kind of vacuum sucking them in.


    But it did not fill him. It simply settled around him.


    Then his interface appeared.


    [August Intruder Melmarc Jay Lockwood has established dominance over his world]


    ¡­


    [You are the August Intruder of this world]


    [This world has been placed under your protection.]


    ¡­


    [Existence has been made aware of your world]


    [Existence acknowledges you]


    [Your world acknowledges you]


    ¡­


    [Welcome August Intruder]


    ¡°What the hell is¡ª¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s words were cut off by his father¡¯s hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°Fendor,¡± his father said in a hurry. ¡°Get us out of here. Now!¡±


    Fendor was already moving.


    The portal behind them winked out of existence in a way that was very unbecoming of portals and another opened behind them like a black hole.


    Naymond stepped away from them. ¡°I¡¯ll stay behind and settle things,¡± he said then met Melmarc¡¯s gaze. ¡°Please, do not forget my request.¡±


    Another notification popped up in front of Melmarc.


    [Your Oaths await you]


    He didn¡¯t have the time to read it before something ripped him away from the world. One moment he was standing in a room with Alfa looking at him as if she wanted to hug him, the next moment he was standing inside a warehouse surrounded by his father and his father¡¯s teammates.


    His father placed both hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye.


    ¡°Mel,¡± he said, voice confused. ¡°What did you just do?¡±


    ¡­


    Gondo had been a Delver for more than fifteen years. At S-rank, he had his own team and faced off against greater foes within the portal and back at home.


    He served his country, not because he was patriotic but because it was the ability of the strong to help whenever they could. So he helped because he could.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready, Gondo.¡±


    He turned his head to the woman that had spoken. A part of his team, she was an A-rank [Scout].


    They stood in a room as one of their teammates, worked carefully to extract an armor from a statue. By Gondo¡¯s estimate, the armor would be B-rank since they were in an A-rank portal.


    Once they were done with this, they would confirm the location of the main monster that ruled the portal and take it out before returning home.


    As for him, he walked up to the spear in the stone. That was his prize to claim. If he was feeling cocky, maybe he would face whatever monster waited for them with it.


    He reached for it when his interface flashed in front of him.


    ¡°Are you seeing this, Boss?¡± one of his teammates said from the corner. ¡°What the hell is going on?¡±


    Gondo was seeing it, and he had no idea what it meant.


    [Please note that your world is evolving.]


    [All active injuries will be healed.]


    [Access to your world will be sealed off in four seconds. Please make your way to the exit portal.]


    Even before he was done reading it, a portal appeared at the center of the room. It was wider than any portal Gondo had ever seen in his years as a Delver. And it was pulsing.


    Four seconds, Gondo thought. That was enough time.


    He grabbed the spear and turned to leave only for the spear not to move. What the hell?


    He pulled harder, his teammates already flooding to the portal without waiting for his command, not that he blamed them. The last thing you would want was to be stuck inside a portal.


    Annoyed, he pulled once more at the spear only for something to pull him from the back. He turned, ready to have words with his teammate only to realize that no one was there.


    Wait, his mind panicked as he realized what was happening.


    The portal was pulling him into it.


    WAIT!


    He reached a hand out to the spear but didn¡¯t make it. He was ripped from the room and into the portal. Before he knew it, he was back at the entrance where the portal to this place had opened.


    He stood there with the rest of his team with no portal.


    Fuck!


    ¡­


    ¡°Cillian, please.¡±


    Cillian never understood why people begged when they were standing face to face with death. He never understood why people met their end and still refused to accept it.


    He had the man¡¯s face in his hand and watched as the man slowly withered in his hold, dying as all those deserving of death should.


    After a short while, the man passed.


    Cillian released him and let his body fall to the ground.


    He missed just being a Gifted. Before he¡¯d become an Oath, he¡¯d used this very skill to climb up the ranks at an unreasonable speed.


    But now that he was an Oath, all the skill gave him was a boost in mana for a period of time. He couldn¡¯t even make the mana his own.


    He shook his head as he walked up to the only chair present in the scattered room and sat down.


    How he missed finding opponents that were his equal. The terrified look on their faces when he finally took purchase on them and started draining their life force. It was always an amazing thing to watch.


    Now, only the other Oaths were his equal. And he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to go against any of them without risking too much.


    If he wanted to hunt down an Oath, he needed to plan. But those fools were too secretive¡ªtoo meticulous.


    Then again, he¡¯d heard that the Oath of War was no longer an Oath. He¡¯d been searching for them for years but had been unable to find any clue that would lead to them.


    Life was becoming boring. At this rate he would have to just go after an Oath using numbers. And the nearest one to him was the Oath of Fear. The woman kept on doing everything in her power to help the country from behind the scenes, not even knowing that he lurked just around the corner observing her every move.


    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s time to cause a little chaos,¡± he mused. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s time to¡ª¡±


    [Your August Intruder has arrived]


    ¡­


    [Please note that your world is evolving.]


    [All active injuries will be healed.]


    [Access to your world will be sealed off in four seconds. Please make your way to the exit portal.]


    ¡­


    [Oath of Greed prepare to meet your August Intruder]


    The notification got his attention.


    Evolving? He mused.


    But the world¡¯s evolution was unimportant. What interested Cillian more was the last part of the notification.


    The long awaited [August Intruder] was here.


    A sly smile touched his lips, and he got up from the chair.


    Looking down at his hand, he flexed his grip, opened and closed it. His smile widened and he walked out of the room. His interface had told him to prepare to meet his [August Intruder].


    He wondered if it would also guide him to where the person was.


    A single thought crossed his mind as he walked out of the building.


    If this [August Intruder] is so important, just how much power can I get if I drain them?

 EIGHTY-SEVEN: Aurora

    The force with which she was pulled from the portal was almost disconcerting. Aurora struck the ground hard, barely landing on her feet.


    Around her, her teammates landed haphazardly. One hit the ground in a tumbling roll, as if he had been thrown by a powerful enemy.


    Aurora ignored him, rising with an annoyed scowl on her face.


    What the hell was that about?


    The portal quest she had been sent on had tasked her and her team to find a monster that had been feeding on the core of that world. It had been an S-rank portal and she¡¯d been attached to some random team on a last minute call.


    ¡°That¡¯s fucking bullocks!¡± Fendi, a balding man on her team cussed. ¡°What the hell does it mean by the world is evolving?¡±


    Aurora looked around her, at her team of four that wasn¡¯t really her team. The source of Fendi¡¯s annoyance was the notification her interface had shown her, which meant that everyone else had seen the notification.


    It begged one simple question: Did all the Gifted get the notification?


    If the answer was yes, then there would be a widespread worry. There would be peace at knowing that the portals were closing, but there would also be panic at not understanding what it meant. Humans, after all, were not known for their ability to keep calm in the face of the unknown.


    If the portals opening--which was already a known part of life--were no longer going to be opening, what did that mean? And for how long were they going to stay closed?


    Aurora dusted her pants. The stain of ash from a monster that had been burnt all the way to the bone was beaten off her pants, and she realized that they had not been thrown out with their weapons.


    Just the clothes on their backs.


    She turned, confirming that the portal had not thrown them out to the middle of nowhere. Around her was a forest. There were countless trees of different colors, temporarily evolved by the presence of the portal. Not too far away, a few trees away from them to be precise, a helicopter waited with a pilot at the ready.


    A grizzled man sat in the back, waiting patiently. He was bulky for his age and powerful.


    I guess it brought us right back to the entrance, Aurora thought.


    Moving a few stray strands of hair from her face, she turned her attention to the portal and watched it close. It sealed itself up like a healing injury, closing up slowly until there was nothing left of it.


    As for the colorful trees around them, their different colors from pink to blue to yellow to mint green slowly faded away, evaporating into the air. It left the trees in their mundane black and brown barks.


    Jenny, their Healer, got to her feet and stretched as if she was just getting out of bed. For a Delver, she was always very lax about everything. To her, things either worked out or did not work out. Aurora knew that the lady gave it her best in everything she did, but her lax nature always made it seem as if she just did the barest minimum and moved on with her life.


    Jenny groaned in satisfaction as she stretched. When she stopped, she stooped down to pick up her glasses.


    She claimed they were medicated but Aurora had a feeling that the lady was probably just accustomed to wearing glasses from her life before becoming a Gifted.


    The glasses had massive circles for lenses and the moment the woman put them on, they framed her face, giving her a cute look. She was like those scientists in movies that spent their entire time locked up in their rooms doing research only to come out with a messy bun and tired eyes.


    Sometimes it was hard to believe that the woman, by virtue of her skills as a Healer, was also a tank. The woman wasn¡¯t a tank by fortitude, not in the slightest. She was only a tank because it took far too much to kill her.


    She had at least one skill, maybe more, that helped her heal faster than most people could damage her. Aurora had seen her run into a burning situation just to find a teammate and rescue them inside a portal. She¡¯d burned all the way into the flames, then burned all through her search, then burned when she found the person. Then she burned while healing the person and bringing them out.


    By the time the rescue was done, the woman had been nothing but healing tissue and no clothes. Her glasses, however, had survived.


    Aurora had no idea how and didn¡¯t care to ask.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s all for today,¡± Jenny said, carefree, then turned to Aurora. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡±


    Aurora was not the leader of the group. But during their time in the portal, she had called enough shots for the others to realize that listening to her had been in their best interest.


    They¡¯d lost one of their members, Jenny¡¯s skills being unable to save his life, but losses were a part of a Delver¡¯s life.


    But that was within the portal, and this was outside the portal. Aurora was not inclined to keep giving them instructions.


    ¡°No idea,¡± she said then cocked her head in the direction of the helicopter. ¡°We should ask the general.¡±


    Personally, she just wanted to go home.


    The man that had cussed, Fendi, shook his head as if he was trying to confirm that he got a headache.


    ¡°This is bullshit,¡± he said. ¡°There were a lot of good things we could¡¯ve come back with.¡±


    Aurora frowned at his words. Spoils of war were only the right of the victors. The key word being the victors. They were Delvers, not thieves. If you did not earn the spoils, move on with your life.


    Their war was over, bickering about what could have been was unnecessary.


    Aurora frowned at herself. It¡¯s been over ten years. You¡¯re not an Oath anymore. You have to stop thinking like you used to.


    She turned her attention to the helicopter, ignoring the others. After all, despite what they¡¯d just been through, she¡¯d only just met them before entering the portal. They really weren¡¯t that close.


    Aurora had questions for the general, because even from here, she could see that he had worry in his eyes, confusion. Something had gone wrong, and it seemed like the man knew exactly what it was or at least had an idea.


    Times like this was when she missed being the Oath of War. For something that had never happened before to happen, she had no doubt that all the Oaths had been informed of it or had at least been given some knowledge that would help them deduce what it was by their interface.


    She frowned as she started making her way to the helicopter.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Tech, another teammate asked. He was in his thirties and had a habit of telling anybody willing to listen that he was looking for love in case they knew anyone that would be willing to date him.


    He¡¯d already told Aurora that he was looking for love more times than she could count during their time in the portal.


    Most people just laughed him off. But while Aurora knew that he was actually being serious while he said it jokingly, she knew that he also used it as a tool.


    In the time she¡¯d known him, she¡¯d realized that whenever a conversation was getting too serious for the man, he¡¯d shift it very quickly to the fact that he was looking for love. The person talking to him would laugh about it, take him as a joke and let him be.


    It was a nice trick the man employed.


    ¡°We are not going anywhere,¡± Aurora answered as she passed him. ¡°I am going to have a word with the general.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m coming with,¡± Tech said.


    Aurora withheld her groan, kept it to herself..


    Most people said she was rude, even when she had been an Oath. She was never inclined to disagree with them. Growing up she¡¯d learnt to fend for herself, to take care of herself on her own. To mind her own business was to understand that it was her duty to make sure that she was the only one minding her own business.


    She¡¯d grown up tough, and she¡¯d had to be with the life she¡¯d lived.


    Aurora¡¯s life was very much unlike her husband¡¯s. Where David, the Oath of Madness, had had loving parents and fun siblings, she¡¯d been saddled with a father who lost himself at the bottom of a bottle and came back home to lose his fists in his family¡¯s face. Her mother had taken her escape in drugs which had always baffled Aurora since they were the kind of family that had to save up just to be poor.


    Her older sister took her own escape in pot and other kinds of drugs, and it had taken all that Aurora was not to take her escape in the path of gangs like her brother had chosen.


    Instead, she had lived a life doing whatever she had to make money in the slums, from selling drugs to stealing cars to working part time gigs at convenience stores and technically anywhere that would hire her. She always chose anywhere she could work with her head held high¡­ well not necessarily high, but at least a place she could work without having to lower her head in shame.


    And whatever paltry sum of money she made was money she spent the rest of her time hiding from her father.


    On more than one occasion she had been the only thing standing between her family and getting kicked out of the house, and none of them had ever known about it.


    Then there was the disadvantage of being the younger sister to a girl that only knew how to get high and a boy that was always a mid-level member of a gang. She was always somehow dragged into their problems.


    If a rival gang member had a problem with her brother, she became a way to get to him if they couldn¡¯t find him. If her sister owed one of the drug houses for one reason or the other, they found her because touching her brother could spark a gang war.


    Life had been hell growing up. Aurora had had to stab a few people and break a lot of bones to survive before the age of sixteen. And while she¡¯d fought against the world, the world had fought back. Before becoming a Gifted, she¡¯d had her fair share of injuries and bones that had been broken and never healed right. She still had a crooked nose from too many old fights that had never healed right, but luckily for her it never really affected her beauty. Her first boyfriend had once complimented it saying that it gave a little danger to her aura.


    She¡¯d broken up with him because he¡¯d wanted a toxic relationship when all she¡¯d wanted was a healthy one, but even now she''d never healed the nose right.


    When she¡¯d become the Oath of War, she couldn¡¯t say she had been surprised. Her entire life had been a war up until she¡¯d managed to get herself into college.


    Aurora shook the thoughts of her past as she marched through the trees, ever thankful for finally running into David when she had.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    He¡¯d always been a breath of fresh air in her life, and he still was with his stoic expression and head full of random and often times chaotic thoughts.


    No matter what she thought or what anyone said, he was perfect for her.


    Many people didn¡¯t understand how they were together despite Oaths being territorial creatures, but they just worked.


    David was the control to her precise rage and wrath. His Oath had threatened to run him into madness but all it had done was strengthen his control. Yes, it came with downsides like having him talk far less than he used to, sometimes even in a manner that was incomprehensible.


    But when has he ever been easy to understand, Aurora thought with a fond smile.


    She could still remember when they¡¯d started dating. He hardly called her his girlfriend whenever he was talking about her. She had always been ''the girl that chose him.'' Which was hilarious since she knew that he could¡¯ve ended up with someone far better if he had wanted to. With amazing grades and a good family background, he had been any girl¡¯s dream.


    She didn¡¯t deserve him.


    Aurora frowned at that.


    You¡¯ve grown to deserve him, she scolded herself.


    Before she knew it, she was already at the helicopter, and she was thankful for it. It allowed her forget her own thoughts.


    ¡°General,¡± she greeted casually.


    The old man ran a hand through his thinning hair. ¡°War.¡±


    Aurora cocked a brow then looked back at the rest of the team. They were still far away from them.


    ¡°Last time I checked,¡± she said in a low voice, ¡°I¡¯m no longer War.¡±


    The general shrugged. ¡°Until there is a new War, you¡¯ll always be war to me.¡±


    ¡°Same goes for me, ma¡¯am,¡± the pilot said without looking back.


    The pilot was a man who¡¯d served as her pilot for a few years when she¡¯d been an Oath. Aurora always found it funny how those that had served with her during her time as Oath still held some level of loyalty to her. Unlike her husband with his team, she hadn¡¯t been nice to them or rude to them. She had been their commander, and they had been her subordinates.


    She had rewarded those under her accordingly and punished them accordingly. Sometimes she had tempered justice with mercy, but only when it was necessary and never for the sake of empathy.


    But that was that, and this was this.


    ¡°Something strange just happened to us,¡± she said to the General. ¡°Any idea what it was?¡±


    ¡°Y¡¯all got shoved out of the portal?¡± the General asked.


    Aurora nodded. ¡°We got a notification from our interface as well.¡±


    ¡°About access to the world being cut off?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Well, I got that, too.¡± The General sighed. ¡°And I ain¡¯t even in a portal.¡±


    ¡°You know if this is happening everywhere else?¡± she asked.


    The General chuckled. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s definitely happening everywhere else. Just before you got to me, I got a request to confirm if you were still in the portal or if you¡¯d been kicked out. Heard there were reports about portals kicking people out and sealing themselves up.¡±


    That meant that David would¡¯ve been kicked out of his portal, too.


    Unless it¡¯s different for Oaths.


    ¡°What about the Oaths?¡± Aurora asked quickly, checking to see how far back the others were.


    Unlike her, they hadn¡¯t been in a hurry. They were on a leisurely stroll that was slowed down by conversations amongst themselves. Considering how long ago it had been since she''d stopped being the Oath of War, they were still relatively new.


    They had no idea that she''d been an Oath. They also had no idea that Oaths existed. At least, she didn''t think they did.


    ¡°Inevitability cleared his portal a while back,¡± the General answered. ¡°But Pain was kicked out just a few seconds ago. I assume everyone¡¯s being kicked out.¡± The man leaned in and lowered his voice. ¡°Any idea what¡¯s going on?¡±


    Aurora missed having an idea of what was going on with things like this. Right now, not being an Oath made her feel blind.


    You are not an Oath, and you¡¯re happy with that.


    ¡°No idea,¡± she answered, shaking her head. ¡°I need my phone. Need to call my husband.¡±


    The General¡¯s face turned blank at that.


    Aurora¡¯s brows furrowed slightly. ¡°General?¡±


    "One moment."


    The man reached for a box beside him. He opened it up and pulled a phone from it. He handed it over to her.


    Aurora opened the box and dialed David. She had his number on speed dial. She also had it memorized. She could call it in her sleep if she was asked to.


    Aurora frowned when she was informed that his line could not be reached. But she did not worry. The procedures surrounding Oaths that worked with the government when they returned from a portal were different from the average Delvers''. It would be a while before David got to his phone.


    She dialed a different number next and waited. It rang for a while, but no one answered. She wasn¡¯t surprised at that. Ark had a habit of never being with his phone. Even when he¡¯d had a girlfriend his phone was unimportant to him.


    Since Ark was now a Gifted, she guessed he would be doing his mentorship program. She¡¯d wanted to check on how that was going. Melmarc was likely in class seeing as it was just getting to evening. Either that or he was just leaving school.


    She tried him anyway.


    She frowned when his line didn¡¯t even ring. She was told that his phone was switched off.


    That¡¯s odd. He¡¯s always with his phone and always keeps it charged.


    Melmarc was meticulous like that. He always made sure that he was reachable. According to him, it was in case Ark was doing something he shouldn¡¯t, and people were trying to reach him in order to have him stop Ark.


    She also knew he was that way because he worried and wanted to be able to reach anybody he felt needed to be reached at any time and vice versa.


    So now she was worried.


    Knowing that it was a long stretch, she dialed Ninra. Ever busy, Ninra answered with the busiest voice Aurora had ever heard.


    ¡°Hi, mom,¡± she said. ¡°Good to see you¡¯re back from work. School¡¯s very hectic right now so I can¡¯t talk. I¡¯m fine, eating my meals and studying. I¡¯m not missing any classes. No, boys are not distracting me. I forgive Ark for whatever he¡¯s done. I¡¯m sure Mel loves us and does what he¡¯s supposed to do and still doesn¡¯t have a girlfriend. I haven¡¯t heard from dad yet, so I¡¯m guessing he¡¯s not back¡­ Uh¡­ I don¡¯t think I missed anything. Uncle D is uncle D. Not much I can say there.¡±


    In the background a voice said something about not taking calls in their class and Ninra gave a quick apology.


    Aurora sighed not wanting to intrude on her lecture or whatever Ninra was doing. ¡°Love you, too, baby girl.¡±


    Ninra groaned like a child. ¡°Love you, too, mum.¡±


    Aurora hung up before Ninra did.


    The General was watching her with an odd expression while the others had gotten to them. They spoke to the General about what had happened to them while Aurora stepped away to make one more call.


    It was a long shot, but it was a shot she was going to have to take. Melmarc¡¯s phone not being reachable was a very worrying thought.


    The phone rang twice before the person picked up.


    ¡°Human.¡±


    Aurora groaned. ¡°Hello, Dorthna. Can we stop calling me human?¡±


    ¡°But you are a human,¡± Dorthna chuckled.


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s creepy having you call me human every time we talk. You used to call me by my name.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I used to call you War.¡± Dorthna paused. ¡°Just out of curiosity, I¡¯ve got a question.¡±


    Aurora kept her question at bay, held back by all her willpower. Now that she was no longer an Oath, Dorthna giving her answers to whatever questions she asked was completely and entirely out of his goodwill. He still upheld his contract with them since David was still the Oath of Madness, though.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± she answered him. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°If you could get your Oath powers back right now, what would you do?¡±


    Aurora paused. She looked back, checked on the others that were still at the helicopter. They were there, oblivious of her as they spoke with the General.


    Aurora knew her go to answer to that question. But she knew Dorthna well enough to know that the worst thing that she could do was lie to him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said finally. ¡°It had its good and its bad.¡±


    ¡°If you were not a mother what would the answer have been? If you could become an Oath again, what would you do?¡±


    Aurora¡¯s mind went back in time, back to the night where everything had changed. She¡¯d spent hours in the hospital wondering what kind of mother allowed her trait as an Oath to protect her world and accept collateral damage¡ªher own kids¡ªin order to do that.


    She¡¯d spent days crying in the hospital, ashamed of herself for choosing to fight the Player to the end rather than surrender for the safety of her children.


    So many times David had told her that it was not her fault. When your traits as an Oath took you, in its moment, it was almost impossible to fight it.


    But David fought his every day, so why hadn''t she been able to fight hers when it mattered most?


    She had been the Oath of War and a Player was an invader seeking to attack her world. It was the purview of war and war dictated that you fought until you could fight no longer. Her Oath had accepted her children in that moment as possible collateral damage for the possibility of the greater good--to win the battle.


    It had been a terrible moment in her life. It had been a time when she¡¯d felt like her own parents. She¡¯d known that she wasn¡¯t, but the mind was a terrible thing. And without the trait of her Oath to justify her actions after she¡¯d woken up in the hospital, she¡¯d been left with her mind plaguing her with judgements for her decision.


    ¡°I am a mother,¡± she answered Dorthna in the end. ¡°That will never change.¡±


    ¡°Your kids have grown up, though,¡± Dorthna pointed out.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she answered. ¡°Anything that stands in the way of me being a good mother is something I do not want.¡±


    Dorthna was silent on the other end of the call for a while. In the end, he let out a resigned sigh.


    ¡°Humans never see the big picture,¡± he said finally. ¡°They are always held down by their selfish microcosms of reality.¡±


    ¡°You''ve asked me this question every year since that night,¡± she said. ¡°What makes you think I will change my mind one day.¡±


    ¡°Because every year I ask you, you take a moment to think about it,¡± he answered. ¡°An each year, the moment gets longer. Your case is not as rare as your world makes it sound, human. The spot for War is still unoccupied in this world. If there is anybody that can take it up again, it¡¯s you. You have the highest likelihood of getting it.¡±


    ¡°It already left me, Dorthna.¡±


    Dorthna laughed. ¡°It didn¡¯t leave you, human. You gave it up. There¡¯s a difference. I¡¯ve seen what happens when a concept leaves an Oath. Trust me, it is not pretty.¡±


    Aurora sighed. Every year she was tired of this conversation. She and David were the only ones alive that knew what Dorthna was, but even now none of them had an idea of what Dorthna truly wanted. They didn¡¯t know why he¡¯d chosen to go with them or bind himself to the contract that kept him bound to them.


    It made him a dangerous friend. And that was the problem, he had become something of a friend over the years.


    ¡°Dorthna,¡± Aurora said.


    ¡°Yes, human.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about this question again when you ask it next year,¡± she said. ¡°But right now, I have a more important question to ask.¡±


    ¡°And what is that? What is more important than being an Oath right now?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t reach Melmarc,¡± she said. ¡°Please tell me where he is.¡±


    ¡°You do not have the authority to make request of m¡ª¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± Aurora pleaded. ¡°I¡¯m pleading. This is just a human pleading, not a command. I¡¯ve never given you commands before, Dorthna, not even when I was War.¡±


    The only reason she¡¯d never given him a command as War was because even her Oath had identified him as outside her hierarchy despite their contract.


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°It is a sad thing that you do not want to become an Oath anymore, human. I always thought of you as my favorite.¡±


    That was surprising. ¡°I always thought you preferred Madness.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Madness was fun. He and I are quite similar in a way. Personally, I understand him better than I do most of you. Still, you were my favorite.¡± He paused. ¡°Now you¡¯re not.¡±


    ¡°Dorthna, please.¡±


    ¡°The boy is with his father.¡± Dorthna¡¯s tone was suddenly empty now. ¡°When you return, we will need to revise our contract.¡±


    ¡°The children aren¡¯t old enough,¡± Aurora complained.


    With her and David¡¯s job, they couldn¡¯t leave the children unprotected. The worry would make her slip up in a portal and that could cost Aurora her life.


    ¡°Your family is safe, human,¡± Dorthna said with a finality. ¡°That is all I am willing to tell you. Return home. Once you do, we will revise our contract. Although, our contract might not be the only contract that you will be revising.¡±


    Then he hung up.


    Aurora blinked. What did he mean by that?


    She tried David again and his line still wasn¡¯t going. Melmarc, too.


    Dorthna said that Melmarc was with his father. Then he¡¯d said that the family was safe. And she could not reach Melmarc and David. It did not take a high level of intelligence for the wife and mother in her to jump to a conclusion in the way both instincts were often wont to do.


    Something had gone wrong. Something had gone terribly wrong.


    Aurora turned on her heels and stomped her way back to the helicopter. Whatever had gone wrong, the General knew what it was.


    And she would have answers.


    When she got to the helicopter, the others turned to greet her only to pause.


    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Tech scratched the back of his neck nervously. ¡°You¡¯ve got a little something on your face there,¡± he said. ¡°A little emotion just right there. I think they call it anger.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s eyes moved to him ever so slowly. ¡°This is not the time, Tech. I need a moment with the General. Everybody give us the space.¡±


    Sometimes, even though she was no longer an Oath, she still commanded and expected to be obeyed. In the past people obeyed her because of her authority. Now people obeyed her because they knew what she was capable of doing when they didn¡¯t obey.


    After all, nobody wanted to get on the bad side of an SS-rank Gifted. And as far as she knew, she was the only one of her class above A-rank. And even without her rank, no one wanted to get on the bad side of a Gifted with the unique class [Dreadnought].


    The others paused for only a moment before they started moving away from the helicopter. Jenny hadn¡¯t even paused. With both hands casually behind her head, she¡¯d already started strolling away.


    ¡°Sorry, General,¡± she said as she left. ¡°You¡¯re on your own. Good luck.¡±


    Alone with the General and the pilot at the cockpit, Aurora could ask the question she wanted to ask.


    ¡°General,¡± she said slowly.


    The man gulped. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Something has happened, and you are very aware of what it is. Now, I will get the unnecessary part out of the way.¡± Aurora placed a hand on a part of the helicopter and squeezed as she leaned forward. The metal bent like rubber in her hand. ¡°You will not tell me that you are not authorized to share the information. You will not tell me that it is above my pay grade. You will tell me nothing but what I need to know. If you do not, I will do whatever it is that I must in order to get the answer. And collateral damage will be acceptable.¡±


    ¡°War¡ª¡± the General began, only for her to cut him off.


    ¡°It is about my family, Triton.¡± Her voice came out more ominous than she¡¯d intended. But it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°My actions will most likely cost me, but that will not dissuade me.¡±


    ¡°Think about this, War. You¡¯ll lose the support of the government,¡± the General, Triton, pointed out as if she didn¡¯t understand what she was saying.


    Aurora met his gaze. ¡°I have given up far more than the government for them. You do not want to see what will happen if I don¡¯t get the answer I want. Are we clear?¡±


    The General nodded after a moment of pause. ¡°Crystal.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now where is Madness?" The part of the helicopter she was holding finally gave out and was ripped out of place completely. She had not intended for that to happen but it had happened.


    It also didn''t matter. Only one thing mattered to Aurora.


    ¡°Where is my husband?¡±

 EIGHTY-EIGHT: Necessary

    ¡°Mel,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father said, voice confused. ¡°What did you just do?¡±


    The answer to the question was completely beyond Melmarc¡¯s knowledge. But he had an answer, so he gave it hoping that it would make sense to his father.


    ¡°I established dominance?¡±


    ¡°Was it intentional?¡± his father asked.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to do it.¡±


    The moment the words were out of his mouth, his father¡¯s expression went back to what Melmarc was accustomed to. It became simple, lacking in emotion.


    ¡°Good.¡± His father released his shoulders. ¡°Your answer determined what we would¡¯ve done next.


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Done next?¡±


    ¡°Right now, very powerful people have just been made aware of your presence,¡± his father explained. ¡°And not all powerful people are good people. Some will come with good intentions, and some will not.¡±


    Around them the others stood quietly. Deoti looked as worried as she¡¯d been in the portal. Fendor looked more as if he was worried about her. Axe sat casually on a large crate on the ground, his true expression hidden behind a mask of placidity.


    Saxi looked as if he was confused but was just going with the motion. It was very similar to how Melmarc currently felt. Lisa didn¡¯t seem bothered in the slightest. Instead, she looked like a woman waiting to be called upon to do her job.


    Melmarc¡¯s attention sharpened on his father. Surprisingly, he wasn¡¯t as scared by his confusion as he thought he would be. In fact, if anything, what he had just done felt right. It was something he should¡¯ve done.


    Right now, he felt as if the world fit him better. He felt as if he could breathe better. Stand better. See better.


    It was a new feeling. He¡¯d always been a healthy child growing up. He recovered from illnesses quickly and rarely fell into them. He¡¯d never needed glasses. And while he would not go as far as to call himself athletic, his physical fitness was adequate.


    Things had gotten better when he¡¯d gotten his class, but it wasn¡¯t like it had been significantly better.


    Now, however, he felt whole. The best feeling he could give it was akin to being born without sight in a world of the blind only to wake up one morning and have it.


    ¡°What powerful people?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°People like me.¡±


    The worry in the room slowly bled out when his father answered. As for Melmarc, it felt more as if he¡¯d absorbed it rather than it leaving the room. Yet, he did not feel it. It felt like an emotion to be processed at a later time.


    The thought of having to fight people like his father crossed his mind and he didn¡¯t like it.


    It felt like a death wish.


    But Veebee had said he would need to meet them eventually. He would need them to support him in whatever the world was going to experience.


    Melmarc certainly didn¡¯t know how to do that. He¡¯d never led anybody before. Leadership was not his strong suit. There were only a handful of people he could command that were alive, and that was only because they let him.


    Ark definitely listened to him because he wanted to. Even his friendship with Delano and Eroms did not have him as the leader. If anything, he was the third wheel. Melmarc knew he was not an intrusion in the friendship.


    Melmarc stopped his line of thought immediately. Even without the sensation of panic or worry, he knew when his mind was panicking. It was growing anxious, troubled and was starting to belittle his importance in different ways.


    There was no way it would be helpful to him right now so he halted his process of thought.


    When Melmarc had pulled himself from his thoughts, it was to find his father¡¯s attention on his teammates.


    ¡°Saxi,¡± he said. ¡°A four wheeled contraption for covering long distances. Deoti, a larger version.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Boss.¡± Saxi turned to Axe. ¡°He means a car, right?¡±


    Axe nodded.


    Saxi got up from the crate he was sitting on. ¡°Got it.¡±


    Deoti, however, hesitated. ¡°Boss, is it okay if I have a quick word with Mel before I go?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s father¡¯s attention was already turned away from her. ¡°It is not. Time is important.¡±


    Deoti pressed her lips into a thin line but did not disobey. Fendor gave her a soft look as she walked passed him.


    ¡°Would you like me to have a word with him while you¡¯re gone?¡± he asked.


    She paused, then nodded. ¡°Just confirm for me, please.¡±


    They were in what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Boxes of different shapes and sizes, all brown, but not all cubed for some reason littered the place. There were empty crates that must¡¯ve once contained beer bottles or bottles of some other drinks.


    The entire space was dark with the little bits of light to see with coming from less than a handful of functional bulbs that let off little pockets of yellow lights. On one side of the space was a stairway leading to a small manager¡¯s box at the top. The machines the workers had clearly used when the warehouse had been functioning were old and dusty from disuse. Abandoned.


    Melmarc¡¯s nose wrinkled at a bad smell. and he looked down. Just between his feet was the skeleton of a rat. Every other part of it had been lost to decay so that only little pieces of hair served as accompaniments to its skeleton.


    Ignoring it, Melmarc looked up at his father. His mind went to his reward for clearing the portal and defeating Caldath. Did he want to make use of everything here?


    Maybe not, he thought. There was no rush so he needed his time to sit down and think about it, preferably with his parents and Ark and Dorthna.


    The thought of his Uncle brought him back to Caldath. They both had the same indicator colors. What that meant continued to bother him. Was Dorthna a Demi-god? There was also the possibility that his Uncle was another variation of a Sapient being. For some reason even if the indicator implied that the person possessed Broken Divinity, Melmarc was not inclined to believe that Demi-gods were the only creatures that possessed it.


    As for his other rewards, Melmarc pulled up his [EP]. He winced when he saw it.


    [Total EP 6503]


    Between going to the other world and whatever else Veebee had done with it, he¡¯d consumed well over a thousand points. That was a thousand points he could have used to grow stronger, but he tried not to let it bother him.


    Next were the weapons. He paused, realizing that he had no idea what had become of them.


    He remembered that Axe had taken one, but while he¡¯d been holding one of the weapons before Veebee had taken him to the other world he had not been holding it when he had returned.


    ¡°What do you need, Marc?¡± Axe asked and Melmarc realized that he had actually been turning his head in search.


    Axe had nothing in his possession except for the clothes on his back. The others were the same.


    ¡°The rewards,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°In all the commotion I forgot about them.¡±


    Axe looked at Fendor. ¡°Do the honors.¡±


    ¡°Deoti would¡¯ve liked to be here for this but alright.¡± Fendor held out his hand and the ground in front of him turned into a dark swirl of shadows.


    Melmarc watched, impressed as Fendor dipped his hand into the shadow. The first thing he pulled out was the spear of Caldath. It was a deep crimson red that reminded Melmarc of the pain in his hand. Absently, he took the wounded hand in his and was surprised at what he found.


    While it still hurt, there was no hole in his hand. He looked down at it and found that while there was still an injury, it was healing quite nicely. So far it had healed enough to simply look like a terribly injury instead of a hole in his hand.


    Fendor placed the spear to the side careful.


    ¡°Shit weighs a ton,¡± he muttered as he reached into the swirling darkness on the ground once more.


    The second thing he pulled out was the sword of Valoth. Melmarc remembered the name Valoth, Caldath had implied that it had belonged to his father.


    He did say the spear was always his weapon of choice, Melmarc thought.


    ¡­ Right before killing Claire.


    Fendor held the sword by the hilt with a tight frown on his face and dropped it to the side. His hand returned into the darkness and his frown became one of annoyance. He put his second hand into it and pulled. Nothing happened.


    ¡°Alright, big guy,¡± he said, addressing Axe. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need your help for this one.¡±


    Axe moved from where he was and came to Fendor¡¯s aid.


    ¡°Just follow my hand,¡± Fendor told him.


    Axe nodded and did exactly as he was instructed. He stood opposite Fendor and placed his hands right where Fendor¡¯s arms were. Then he dipped both hands into the darkness and pulled.


    His hands came out carrying a chest.


    That has to be the armor, right?


    Melmarc remembered the armor of Caldath being one of the rewards.


    Axe dropped the chest quietly on the ground.


    Melmarc¡¯s legs carried him forward slowly.


    ¡°Do you want to take a look before Deoti and Saxi come back?¡± his father asked and Melmarc nodded.


    These ones he would see now. As for the [EP] and skill mastery, those ones could wait until he was home.


    The thought of going home relaxed Melmarc just as much as he thought it would. A warm shower and a cold bed would be the best thing for him right now. A good sleep too.


    He remembered that he was taller now and almost smiled. He wondered how Ark would handle being the same height. In fact, there was a chance that he was now taller since Ark had only been taller than him by a few inches, maybe three or four before he¡¯d gained his class.


    At this rate I¡¯ll be dad¡¯s height before I¡¯m twenty.


    His father was either seven feet or almost seven feet of muscle. The man was built like a tank.


    When Melmarc got to the weapons, Fendor had already dismissed the portal he had created on the ground and was simply watching him.


    Melmarc bent and picked up the spear first. It carried a significant weight but wasn¡¯t something he couldn¡¯t hold in one hand. Compared to how much it had weighed when he¡¯d used it on Caldath, it wasn¡¯t anything worthy of complaining about.


    ¡°It¡¯s sturdy,¡± he said, curling it in a single hand like a barbell to test its weight. He squeezed his hand around it. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll never need to worry about it breaking.¡±


    ¡°Rewards like this usually come with extra features,¡± Fendor said. ¡°We¡¯ll need someone with an appraisal skill to tell us what the features are. Or you can just use it long enough to figure it out.¡±


    ¡°Look at the spear and focus,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father said from behind him. ¡°Think of smelling freshly baked dough and trying to figure out the many things they put inside it.¡± There was a pause, it was thoughtful, before more words followed. ¡°Ingredients. Think about what ingredients are inside it.¡±


    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure if his father was talking about bread or cookies, but it didn¡¯t matter. He focused on the spear. His nostrils flared even though he knew his father¡¯s words had just been an example to follow. Still, whatever he¡¯d done to establish dominance had felt like moving his shirt into place and it had worked.


    So he tried to invoke the feeling of smelling bread to know if it was banana bread or sardine bread or chocolate bread.


    His eyes focused tightly on spear and he realized even in the dim light of the warehouse that the weapon was actually aesthetically crafted. As deeply crimson as it was, there were swirls of designs going through it as a spiral.


    The spiral helped with giving it a strong grip and the swirls were designed with countless things.


    Melmarc peered down at the swirls. Are those words?


    They were too tiny to see but they looked like words to him, countless words inscribed into the swirls. If they were words, they were very clearly words belonging to a language he did not understand.


    Still, his eyes were drawn to the words and he found himself slowly turning the spear as he followed them. It was like looking at Japanese writings. They were nothing but lines to him. Yet they were interesting to look at, interesting to follow.


    No one around interrupted Melmarc as he moved the spear. In fact, there was a chance that they tried, but he couldn¡¯t say, for a moment everything else was lost to him. Only the lines and twirls that made words in their countless amalgamations mattered to him.


    He was still following them when his interface popped up in front of him.


    [Spear of Caldath]


    A weapon crafted for the warrior Oath of Madness Caldath. Birthed from metal, fire and the blood of his enemies, it was designed to his specifications, then evolved for the purpose of slaying greater enemies. Effects have been broken by more than 50% due to prolonged exposure to Broken Divinity.


    [Effect: 40% increase in strength.]


    [Effect: +30% increase in accuracy]


    [Effect: Weapon skill Blood Feast]


    [Effect: Weapon skill Phantom Spear]


    Those were some very impressive effects. Melmarc could only imagine how powerful a person would be with those increments.


    But he wasn¡¯t done. He focused on the skills.


    [Blood Feast]


    A weapon skill designed to increase damage for every drop of blood spilled within a specific area.


    [Radius: 30 feet]


    ¡­


    [Phantom Spear]


    A weapon skill designed to create instances of attacks that inflict the same damage as the weapon on an existential level without having to let go of the weapon.


    [Phantom instances: 6/6]


    Melmarc knew [Phantom Spear]. It was the skill that Caldath had used to immobilize his hands and feet towards the end of their fight. It was an interesting skill. He could just imagine the multiple uses for it.


    He put it down to the side, pausing as a realization dawned on him.


    ¡°How long was I out?¡± he asked.


    Fendor¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Out?¡±


    ¡°How long was I looking at it?¡± Melmarc clarified.


    ¡°Not long,¡± Axe answered. ¡°You just looked at it and dropped it.¡±


    That was odd. Melmarc could¡¯ve sworn he¡¯d been looking at it for at least three minutes. The time loss was odd.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± his father said, walking up to him. ¡°Now the next one.¡±


    Melmarc looked at the spear once more before picking up the sword. While it still had the twirls that were wrapped around it, by the life of him he could not see the words.


    He put aside the little piece of information as he picked the sword.


    The sword was black with words running the length of the blade. The words were like those on the spear, miniscule and without meaning, scribbled in molten color.


    He held it out to Fendor who looked up at him in a questioning gaze.


    ¡°Need me to do something?¡± Fendor asked.


    ¡°Just curious of something,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°Do you see anything written on the blade?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Fendor shook his head. ¡°Not a single thing.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. It was safe to assume that whatever those words were, he was the only one seeing them.


    ¡°They are the nature of the weapon¡¯s existence,¡± his father said.


    Those were very specific words. Usually, Melmarc would¡¯ve expected his father to define some of those words in the sentence. Maybe define ¡®weapon¡¯ instead of using the word itself or define existence.


    It didn¡¯t matter, though. At least now he knew what the words were.


    ¡°Can all Oaths see them?¡± he asked.


    His father nodded. ¡°Oaths and those who have the skill that allows them see them.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. Just to be sure, he asked, ¡°Appraisal skills?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    When he looked at the sword, his sense of time did not stretch. He didn¡¯t feel lost in looking at them. And in a matter of seconds, his interface popped up in front of him.


    [Sword of Valoth]


    Crafted for the great warrior Valoth, this weapon was forged in the heart of a crumbling mountain. It is known for its sturdiness and the blood of two Oaths. Effects have been broken by more than 50% due to prolonged exposure to Broken Divinity.


    [Effect: +8 points to Agility when equipped]


    [Effect: +4 points to precision when equipped]


    While the numbers were impressive, they didn¡¯t really feel very impressive to look at. With everything Melmarc had seen and been through, it didn¡¯t feel like much. But he knew they were significant numbers.


    A Gifted did not experience stats increase until they hit a ten percent mastery increase in their skills. And gaining an increment of four stat points in already existent skills was not necessarily unheard of but it was very rare. Eight points in agility was a massive boost.


    ¡°Powerful weapons?¡± his father asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°You can see them, too?¡±


    ¡°I can. But I do not like seeing them,¡± his father answered. ¡°Too much information. Unnecessary information.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like too much information?¡± he asked and his father nodded.


    Melmarc¡¯s mind was drawn to how much unnecessary information he and his siblings must have given his father as children. All those times when Ark was more than eager to talk about some random grasshopper that he¡¯d seen in school, or some new knowledge he had about why a snake was its color or some unnecessary thing like that.


    They had given him a lot of unnecessary information. It must¡¯ve been tough to deal with. Yet, their father had patiently and quietly listened to them. He¡¯d always carried no expression, but they¡¯d always known he was listening. And he always remembered.


    Melmarc smiled slightly. ¡°Must¡¯ve been tough listening to me, Ark and Ninra talk about everything when we were small.¡± His smile widened. ¡°You must¡¯ve had your fair share of unnecessary information to deal with.¡±


    ¡°It could be tiring,¡± his father agreed, expression nowhere to be found as always. He might as well have been talking about the color blue.


    ¡°Sorry you had to deal with that,¡± Melmarc apologized on behalf of him and his siblings.


    His father¡¯s eyes softened so minutely that it was almost nonexistent. ¡°I said it could be tiring,¡± he said. ¡°But nothing a child tells a parent is unnecessary. Everything a child has to say, tiring or not, reasonable or not, is always necessary to a parent.¡±


    Melmarc paused. He would be lying if he said he¡¯d seen that coming.


    ¡°Awww,¡± Fendor cooed. ¡°Boss has got a heart.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯ll soon be looking for a job,¡± Lisa said from where she was sitting. There was a touch of spite in her voice that demanded Fendor¡¯s attention.


    Fendor turned to her. ¡°Hey!¡± he protested. ¡°What did I¡ª¡± he paused, attention suddenly focusing on her a bit more. Then his voice softened. ¡°How¡¯s he doing?¡±


    Lisa took a moment to compose herself. She took a calm breath before answering.


    ¡°I do not have a strong link to him,¡± she said. ¡°And you have taken us to another state. So I don¡¯t know how he¡¯s doing.¡±


    ¡°Once we¡¯re done with this we¡¯ll find out,¡± Axe said. ¡°Promise.¡±


    Lisa shrugged. ¡°These things happen. Let¡¯s just focus on what¡¯s important.¡±


    Melmarc wondered if they had been talking about Clinton. Lisa had not left the Delver¡¯s side ever since they had gotten out of the portal.


    Axe tapped the chest on the ground with his foot, drawing Melmarc¡¯s attention to it.


    ¡°Last one, Marc,¡± he said.


    ¡°Last one,¡± Melmarc repeated.


    He walked over to the chest and opened it. He was surprised to find that it hadn¡¯t even had a lock. Inside it were a few things. At the top was a crimson breast plate.


    [Armor of Valoth]


    Crafted for the great warrior Valoth, this weapon was forged in the heart of a crumbling mountain and a dying basilisk. It is known for its sturdiness and the blood from a basilisk¡¯s heart. Effects have been broken by more than 50% due to prolonged exposure to Broken Divinity.


    [Broken Effect: +12% resistance to fire damage when equipped]


    [Broken Effect: +34% resistance to mind magic when equipped]


    [Broken Effect: +22% resistance to magical damage]


    [Broken Effect: + 10% resistance to physical damage]


    Melmarc was curious as to just how powerful the effects had been before Caldath had gotten his hands on the armor. Also, he thought looking through the contents of the chest. For an armor set without a helmet, it has mind magic resistance?


    He¡¯d always thought that to protect against mind magic you also needed to keep your head protected. It was where the mind was, after all.


    ¡°What do you guys normally do with things like these when you get them?¡± he asked his father.


    To his surprise, his father shrugged.


    Melmarc opened his mouth to ask how his father had no idea when he really thought about it. Even back home, while his father was aware of almost everything, he always left what happened to those things to their mother.


    If something was broken, his father always knew. However, if that thing would be replaced or fixed was a decision that boiled down to their mother. If they wanted something, his father would always know, but if they got it or not always boiled down to their mother.


    ¡°Would mom know?¡± he asked.


    His father nodded.


    Lisa was more than happy to add some more pieces of information to the mix. ¡°Your father doesn¡¯t really care much about these things,¡± she said. ¡°When we get weapons from portals that automatically go to him, we hand them over to your mother and that¡¯s that.¡±


    ¡°No one asks what she does with them?¡± Melmarc asked, curious as to what happened to all the weapons his father had earned.


    ¡°Nope,¡± Fendor answered. ¡°Your dad doesn¡¯t care so we don¡¯t ask. It¡¯s not like its our weapon to begin with.¡±


    ¡°Then what do we do with this?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Axe laughed. ¡°Not our weapon, Marc. You¡¯re the one that¡¯ll have to make that decision.¡±


    After a very quick moment of thought, Melmarc asked, ¡°What happens if I want to share them with Clinton and his team.¡±


    Lisa was the first to answer that. ¡°Very bad idea. The weapons of Demi-gods would drain their life force each time they use it. From what the world knows, only Oaths can use weapons gotten from a Demi-god without side effects. S-rank Gifted can use it with minimal side effects, that just come down to having their mana drained at an annoying rate.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your rank?¡± Fendor asked Melmarc.


    ¡°B,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Then I guess we¡¯ll be leaving the decision to his mother,¡± Axe mused. ¡°Boss will do that, too.¡±


    Melmarc had a feeling that if Oaths could use the weapons without side effects, then he should be able to do the same. But it didn¡¯t really matter. He had no training in using any weapons. In his self-defense classes he and Ark had been taught how to fight against an enemy using a knife.


    Their instructor had gone the extra mile to let them know that the first course of action when faced with an enemy using a sharp weapon was always to run. Fighting was only in the even that you could not run. When that happened, you had to prepare yourself for a lot of injuries including stab wounds during the fight.


    But weapons training was never a part of it. Melmarc¡¯s only experience with using a sword or a spear was from play-fighting with Ark as a child with pieces of wood and rulers imagined to be swords or spears.


    ¡°There are other Oaths who will be more than happy to buy them from you and add to their collection, though,¡± Fendor pointed out. ¡°Or you could put it up for auction in the black market and get a hefty sum from people who just want to own such things.¡±


    Axe and Lisa shot Fendor a scolding look.


    ¡°What did I do?¡± he protested.


    Melmarc smiled. ¡°It is never a good idea to advise a boy my age to do anything concerning the black market.¡±


    ¡°You know about the black market?¡± Axe asked, worried.


    ¡°I¡¯m sixteen, Uncle Axe,¡± Melmarc pointed out, almost laughing. ¡°I know about a lot of things adults think I don¡¯t know about. The black market, the dark web, Mr. Swayzee¡¯s little cabin of debauchery.¡±


    ¡°No idea what that last one is,¡± Fendor said as a side note.


    ¡°Me neither,¡± Lisa confirmed.


    Melmarc almost laughed. Just how old did they think he was?


    There was a sound of a door opening and everyone turned to find Saxi and Deoti walking into the warehouse.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Fendor swore under his breath. ¡°She¡¯s going to kill me when she finds out that I didn¡¯t do what she wanted me to do.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what that was about. It was probably whatever Fendor had said he would talk to him about when she was leaving. Still, he doubted it was that deep.


    ¡°Got a nice-looking salon car for the group,¡± Saxi announced.


    Axe frowned. ¡°Another uncomfortable trip. Couldn¡¯t you have gotten something like a sienna?¡±


    Fendor laughed. ¡°Or a minibus.¡±


    Axe gave him an angry look. ¡°Salon cars always cramp my legs.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the one with a Lamborghini?¡± Lisa asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s a trophy car,¡± Axe groaned. ¡°I own it because I can. Also, it¡¯s custom made. I fit in it.¡±


    ¡°Comfortably?¡± Fendor teased.


    ¡°I¡¯ll wring your neck comfortably, little man,¡± Axe replied.


    Fendor laughed heartily. ¡°And I¡¯ll store your car. Don¡¯t test me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s enough of that, kids,¡± Deoti declared, joining the group. She tossed Melmarc a set of keys. ¡°I got you and your dad a Hilux. Superb comfort.¡±


    Axe gestured at her dramatically.


    ¡°See,¡± he told Saxi. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you have gotten us a Hilux. How do you expect all five of us to fit in a salon car?¡±


    ¡°Five of us?¡± Fendor was still laughing. ¡°Speak for yourself, big guy. Deoti and I are taking the portal express once it¡¯s charged up.¡±


    ¡°Please tell me there¡¯s space for one more,¡± Axe pleaded.


    Melmarc knew that there was space for more than one more.


    Fendor stood up and patted Axe on the shoulder. ¡°Sorry, big guy. It¡¯s full.¡±


    Axe made a strangling gesture at him and the both of them laughed. Melmarc watched them as they somehow lulled themselves back into a normal state. With their time at the portal done, they now acted like normal adults.


    If not for Axe¡¯s size, it would be difficult to believe that they were Delvers who went into portals to live dangerous lives.


    ¡°Alright, boys,¡± Lisa got up and approached them. ¡°Let¡¯s help Marc and the Boss get his rewards into the car. Then we can be on our way. Any pending instructions, Boss?¡±


    Everyone turned to Melmarc¡¯s father. Melmarc turned to him, too.


    ¡°Lay low,¡± he said. ¡°I will have words with those responsible and come back to you.¡±


    Saxi made a hissing sound as if he was in pain. ¡°You having words with them? Sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡±


    ¡°The woman that chose me will come with.¡±


    Melmarc knew who the woman that chose him was. It wasn¡¯t very often, but he often referred to their mother as the woman that chose him when talking to other people. With him and his siblings, he sometimes called her ¡®your mother¡¯ or ¡®the one who birthed you.¡¯


    Once upon a time, he¡¯d been talking to Uncle Dorthna and had referred to their mother as ¡®Mine.¡¯ Ninra had thought it was so romantic at the time. Melmarc had just thought of it as a normal thing.


    ¡°Personally,¡± Axe closed the chest and picked it up. ¡°I say if they try to play hard ball, we just start our own company and be done with it.¡±


    Lisa nodded. ¡°And if they¡¯re against it, we¡¯ll just move. Not really that hard.¡±


    Fendor nodded. ¡°It¡¯s not like my portal knows what boarders are.¡±


    Melmarc watched them talk about quitting their job with the government and starting a Delving company or leaving the country as if they were planning a get-together.


    He couldn¡¯t lie, he was impressed.


    Melmarc¡¯s father walked up to the remaining weapons on the ground and frowned before picking them up.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Saxi said happily. ¡°Time to get going. You don¡¯t have to go home, but you all definitely can¡¯t stay here.¡±


    As for Melmarc, he was just happy to put the portal behind him. But while they walked towards the exit, he found himself hoping that Naymond was doing well.


    His father slowed his pace until they were walking side by side. Only when they were next to each other did he speak, and his words resonated with a part of Melmarc that he blamed on [Optimum Existence].


    ¡°Once the one who birthed you returns,¡± he said. ¡°Only then will we speak of what punishment will be befitting of the Detective Alfa Firdausi.¡±


    Alfa was not the only one deserving of punishment. There was another name and it slithered in Melmarc¡¯s mind as they left the building. The Confidential Informant Naymond had had him and Pelumi chase the first time he''d taken them out on their mentorship program. The man that had led them to the meeting place for the delivery that had ultimately ended up with Melmarc inside the portal.


    The man who''d asked him for his class only to pass the information Melmarc had given him to the man he had made the delivery to, knowing how dangerous he was.


    David Swan.

 EIGHTY-NINE: Hungry, But Good

    The team helped with loading Melmarc¡¯s things in the car. It was quick and precise. Nobody grumbled and nobody complained. It was early into the morning, late enough that you could sense the touch of daybreak on the horizon. So they worked in relative darkness.


    Throughout the entire process, Deoti just stood and watched, her attention fixed entirely on Melmarc. At some point, she and Fendor exchanged a few words that Melmarc did not hear.


    Through it all, she looked bothered.


    Melmarc did not understand what was wrong but had a very strong feeling that it would bother her for a very long time. As much as he wanted to address it, his father¡¯s precise and quick movements gave a sense of urgency that Melmarc couldn¡¯t just shake.


    Before they left, Axe gave him a firm handshake. Axe always gave him a firm handshake as if they were some kind of business partners. The Delver always liked to say that a serious person that should be taken seriously always had a firm handshake. It was not strong, and it was not a power handshake. It was simply firm.


    Fendor cracked a joke about how in no time he would be his father¡¯s height and if Delving didn¡¯t work for him, he could take up a bodyguard role and just stand in front of doors and look intimidating.


    ¡°A few more pounds on you and you¡¯ll be a monster.¡± He smiled at Melmarc as he patted his shoulder.


    Saxi only had a nod to offer him, which was not very surprising. They barely knew each other.


    Lisa shook his hand, her grip not as firm as Axe¡¯s. ¡°Still remember how to talk to people?¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Uhh¡­¡±


    He couldn¡¯t say that he knew how to answer that. Lisa was more of a people person. It was not that she was friendly and constantly outspoken but that she knew how to be when she had to be.


    Melmarc wanted to say that he still knew how to talk to people, but he couldn¡¯t be sure that the words would actually be true.


    I¡¯ve been talking to people, though.


    But that was different from what she was asking, and he knew it. He¡¯d spent a long time alone in the portal simply surviving. He remembered how terrible he had been at it in the beginning. How when the critters had been on him and nighttime had come, he¡¯d just abandoned himself to sleep because he didn¡¯t know how to get rid of them.


    Then, after a long time of being alone, he¡¯d met Naymond in a terrible state. That had been his first conversation with another person in days, and Naymond had been a little scared of him during the conversation.


    Then he¡¯d met Clinton and his team. Saved them and brought them to where Naymond was, only to find the [Sage] on the brink of death.


    Then Jude shot me.


    Then you broke his rib. Melmarc found himself smiling at that one. His mind had been such a mess during that period. It was normal now, relatively speaking. His mind wasn¡¯t being bombarded with compulsions of different kinds. It hadn¡¯t been since he¡¯d returned from the portal.


    Then they¡¯d made their journey to the castle, blown up a wall with an indicator on it, killed a lot of [Damned] and made their way into the castle. Clinton had almost died in the entire process of getting there but he¡¯d survived.


    With one hand¡­ Melmarc¡¯s demeanor dampened.


    Then he had met his father¡¯s teammates.


    He¡¯d had a lot of interactions with people, but not normal people. He was a sixteen-year-old boy who for the past two weeks had spent a large number of days not interacting with anyone and only killing, then the days that followed interacting with Delvers and killing monsters, finalizing it with the death of a Demi-god.


    Do I still remember how to talk to people? Normal people.


    Melmarc realized that he¡¯d been thinking for too long. When he pulled himself from his thoughts, Lisa was simply looking up at him. She had a simple smile on her face. It was a reassuring smile.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it too much,¡± she said.


    Melmarc had a feeling that he was supposed to worry about it a little bit, though. What kid his age didn¡¯t know how to talk to kids his age?


    But she was right. It was a worry for another day.


    ¡°If you need any help with that,¡± she said as she released his hand, ¡°just let your dad know. He¡¯ll get in touch with me, and I¡¯ll help.¡±


    Deoti was the last of the group. It was a little saddening to see that she couldn¡¯t even muster up a fake smile for him.


    Melmarc pulled her into a careful hug. ¡°See you later, aunt Deoti.¡±


    She held onto his shirt for a little. He had new clothes on, a simple grey shirt and black pants provided by Fendor with his storage power.


    When Melmarc released Deoti, she was cleaning tears from her eyes.


    ¡°I know we don¡¯t have time,¡± she said. ¡°But I really want you to know that I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what she was sorry about. Maybe she was sorry that he had to go through what he¡¯d gone through, sorry that they hadn¡¯t come for him on time or that he¡¯d had to face Caldath alone.


    He smiled down at her, their height difference evident.


    ¡°I know, aunt,¡± he said. ¡°I know.¡±


    His father didn¡¯t go through the process that he went through. While he said his goodbyes, his father sat in the driver seat of the car silently waiting for him.


    Melmarc reached for the door and opened it. The door opened easily but the handle came with his hand, ripped from its place.


    Melmarc looked down at it awkwardly. He opened his mouth, the natural instinct for making an excuse for a mistake you did not intend to make right there at the forefront of his mind. But when he turned to look at the others, they were smiling. Saxi was chuckling.


    It seemed he would have to learn control. Before entering the portal, he hadn¡¯t had any strength stats, but [Rings of Saturn] had given him some strength stats. And he¡¯d spent most of his time within the portal using all the strength he could muster. Finesse and control hadn¡¯t really been something to account for.


    Axe waved as if to let him know that he had nothing to worry about.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it,¡± he said.


    ¡°The strength,¡± Fendor said. ¡°Not the breaking of things.¡±


    Axe shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to breaking things, too.¡±


    Lisa looked up at Axe as Melmarc got into the car. ¡°How many things did you break before you got the hang of things?¡±


    Axe chuckled. ¡°Who said I¡¯ve stopped breaking things?¡±


    Melmarc hoped that it was a joke as he closed the door. Luckily, while the outside handle had broken off, the door was still functioning for what it was designed for.


    His dad turned the key in the ignition and looked up at the rearview mirror. He didn¡¯t need to since the car had been parked in a way that he didn¡¯t need to reverse to drive out, so it didn¡¯t take Melmarc much thought to realize that he was simply checking on his team.


    When his father¡¯s eyes returned to the path before them, their journey began. Melmarc let out a relieved sigh as their journey back home began.


    Now he could only hope that their journey back home would lead them straight home. He really couldn¡¯t do with another detour.


    His father turned to look at him, then turned his eyes back on the road. ¡°Seat belt.¡±


    Melmarc complied, reaching across him to fasten his seatbelt.


    As they drove, the world around Melmarc felt different. The buildings they passed, the roads, the people¡ªas few as they were. He found himself watching everything like a tourist.


    ¡°It happens to most people,¡± his father said simply, without taking his eyes off the road.


    Melmarc looked from the road to him, but before he could say anything, his father went on.


    ¡°They enter the injuries in the world,¡± his father said. ¡°Then they come back and the world looks new.¡± He frowned as his eyes narrowed. ¡°Although, the world looks new right now¡­ better. But you stay in the injuries for too long and you get used to the injury.¡±


    His eyes didn¡¯t return to normal, though. They remained narrowed, watching.


    Melmarc knew what his father was talking about. There were articles about it all over the internet. People liked to call it the adjustment period where a Delver readjusted to the world on returning from a long time spent in a portal. Sometimes it was just the simple things, sometimes it was not.


    A Delver who¡¯d been in a portal with his team for a month had once said that it was like going to war and coming back. A lot of military fanatics on the internet had not been happy to have a Delver liken it to going to wars where soldiers could be in the war zone for months, but they weren¡¯t overly vocal about it.


    There were psychologists and psychiatrists who theorized that something about being a Delver and the nature of portals was what made Delvers come out feeling that way even if they weren¡¯t gone for too long.


    In the end, they were all theories. No one really knew why a month in portals was often treated psychologically like a year at a warzone. But it was rarely ever that bad, though. Delvers didn¡¯t always stay for even up to a week in portals, so the internet was mainly filled with Delvers who said they came back missing coffee so much or something simple or the other.


    For Melmarc, the world just looked new. Not new as if he¡¯d never been here before, but new as if he¡¯d gone to school and come back just to find out that Ninra had cleaned all his toys until they looked almost as new as the day they¡¯d bought them.


    ¡°Maybe everything is new,¡± his dad muttered.


    Melmarc could see it. He was sure of it. Things really did look new. And if his dad was seeing it, then he was probably not imagining it.


    As they drove, Melmarc knew that he had no idea where Fendor had actually dropped them off. He couldn¡¯t see any landmark that would help him identify the place. With no idea what state he could possibly be in, he simply stared at the scenery and enjoyed the ride to the best of his ability.


    For most of the ride, his companion was silence. His father drove, maneuvering his way through the streets without a map, and Melmarc simply wondered just how much of the place his dad knew in silence.


    Now that he thought about it, from the moment he¡¯d met his dad up until now was the longest conversations he¡¯d ever had with his father. In fact, apart from his mom, Melmarc doubted he¡¯d ever seen his father use so many words or have prolonged conversations.


    His father could stand in the presence of a thousand people and ignore them completely. As for his kids, he would be a very present participant of any conversation they wished to have, however, he was always a silent one.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    With a lack of facial expressions, it was always complicated to deduce how he felt about what was being said, but the fact that he made eye contact and nodded and made subtle noises that let you know he was ready for you to move on to the next part of the story had always been an assurance that he was listening.


    The first time Delano had witnessed Melmarc talking to his father, he had been confused by it. Delano had been the first person to point out how odd it looked to people on the outside, having a boy or girl gesture and narrate an entire conversation in complete excitement only to have their parent look at them and nod and grunt with zero sign of interest.


    But Melmarc had grown up that way. Everyone in the family had simply grown to understand their father was simply that kind of person. He was excited and enjoyed their conversations in his own way.


    ¡°Therapy,¡± his father said after hours of driving. The sun was high in the sky and midday was at least an hour in the past.


    Melmarc was pulled from something he¡¯d just recently noticed. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Therapy,¡± his father repeated, turning the car at a junction. ¡°Will you go?¡±


    ¡°Do you want me to go to therapy?¡± Melmarc asked, wondering why they hadn¡¯t been stopped on the road by any officer.


    His father seemed too casual for a man that was driving in what was most likely a stolen vehicle.


    ¡°If you need it,¡± his father answered, eyes on the road.


    If I need it.


    Melmarc definitely thought that he would need it. Personally, he didn¡¯t think he needed a therapist, but he definitely needed therapy¡­ if that makes sense.


    Maybe someone to talk to?


    Ark was the first person that came to mind, but while Ark was definitely going to get the entire detail about Melmarc¡¯s portal experience, Melmarc doubted that his brother was the therapy he needed.


    Ninra, I guess, he thought.


    She definitely had that therapist vibe to her. She liked to ask questions like how he felt about things, why he thought he did something that he did, if he would do it again if put in the same position again.


    On the very few occasions when he went to her with a complaint of any kind, she always started by asking if he was there to vent or find a solution. Melmarc always said he was always there to find a solution.


    He often wondered why she would think he was coming to complain when he didn¡¯t need a solution. It used to make very little sense to him until Ark started telling him things that had happened to him or he had done, and it ended up turning out that with all the chaos in Ark¡¯s life, Melmarc¡¯s role in being told about them was just to listen.


    As for Ark, he wasn¡¯t a fan of Ninra¡¯s questions and answers. He said it reminded him that he was talking to his older sister and not just his sister. To him, she only did it because she was the older one. Apparently, it was her responsibility to make sure they always had a good head on their shoulders¡­ so to speak.


    Definitely Ninra, Melmarc thought.


    If that didn¡¯t help, then maybe a therapist.


    Sounds like you¡¯re trying to avoid actual therapy.


    Melmarc frowned at the thought. Was he trying to avoid actual therapy?


    The answer wasn¡¯t necessarily no, but he had a feeling that at the end of the sessions, the therapist would just end up telling him about how he¡¯d been through a lot but was handling it in a healthy way and he should just go about his life and come back if any problem comes up.


    So, he was determined to go to therapy only when a problem came up.


    It took him a moment to realize that he had not answered his father. Then it took him another moment to realize that his father had not asked a question. In fact, his father had answered a question he had asked.


    He returned his attention to his father only to find him focused on the road. It seemed the conversation had come to some kind of conclusion, so Melmarc didn¡¯t worry too much about it. Returning his attention to the road, he occupied himself with what had initially caught his attention.


    The one thing Gifted of every kind always found fascinating was the concept of mana. According to most of them, mana was a constant part of their lives. They could feel it in the way their skills worked. It was a constant part of their interface. It wasn¡¯t some unique thing that screamed in your face, but a subliminal sensation.


    All of them could feel it very sharply when certain active skills where used, like when a [Basher] charged a very powerful punch and their fists glowed a deep color, it was there.


    But the one thing everyone knew was that there was mana everywhere even if they couldn¡¯t see it. It was in the air, in the trees in the buildings. Everything had mana. And if you focused enough and had enough points in stats like perception, you could even feel it. But if it wasn¡¯t being used by someone¡ªanother Gifted¡ªyou would not be able to see it.


    Ambient mana was felt not seen.


    It was common knowledge that Melmarc was aware of as he watched wisps of colorful motes dancing in the air around him. They were all different colors, varying and plentiful. He doubted that there was a color known to man that was not present.


    In some places there were more of one color than another. They attached themselves to the exhaust pipes of moving vehicle, hovered over people as they walked about, and danced chaotically in the air, swaying whichever way they wanted regardless of where the wind blew.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t want to seem very important even though Veebee had made sure feeling unimportant was next to impossible now. But as he watched the motes dance around, blue and green and orange and teal and red and smoke grey, he only had one thought cross his mind as they drove home and a smile touched his lips.


    I can freaking see mana.


    ¡­


    Melmarc¡¯s trip with his father lasted for two days. They drove until it was evening and drove into the night.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes remained wide awake as he watched how the motes of what he was convinced was mana, even though they could be something else, acted.


    It didn¡¯t take him long to get bored of watching them, but he remained enamored with the fact that he could at least see them. Something interesting he learnt about them was how they didn¡¯t react to people.


    If someone walked into them, they did not move aside or bounce away from them. Instead, the person simply walked through them as if they were nothing but a figment of Melmarc¡¯s imagination.


    There were a handful of people that he noticed had some of the motes clinging to them. It wasn¡¯t in droves, however, just a handful attaching themselves to their shirt or their pants or the trail they walked on before hovering off into the air.


    In their entire journey, Melmarc only noticed five people that the motes reacted to. One was an elderly woman who walked with a head of grey hair and a straight back. When he¡¯d seen her, she had been crossing the road with a young girl who was no more than ten years old. The motes of colors reacted to her with every breath she took.


    The motes around her drew closer to her with every inhale and moved away with every exhale, but they never went into her.


    The other two people he¡¯d seen, however, actually inhaled the colors without even noticing. And every time they exhaled, the motes came out with slightly duller colors that they regained after a period of time. Melmarc only knew they regained their color when his dad stopped at a station to get gas.


    Melmarc had come down to use the restroom and had taken some time when he was done to watch the attendant in the minimart. The girl was pretty but that wasn¡¯t what held his attention. When she inhaled, she drew in the motes and let them out when she exhaled.


    He noticed that while motes of different colors were drawn in with her breath, only a few came out duller. In her case, the greens and blues came out duller. The browns and yellows and pinks remained vibrant. He watched a while longer as his dad filled up the tank, wondering what would happen to the colors that had dimmed.


    It didn¡¯t take long to see the outcome. The dimmed colors floated into the air, drawn to motes of similar colors. They brightened slightly whenever they drew close enough and the others dimmed slightly. It was a cascade of events until all the motes looked as if they were all equally vibrant as they had once been.


    They had, in a way, replenished themselves until they were equally at the same level of brightness. But even though Melmarc couldn¡¯t tell the difference in brightness before the girl had inhaled them and after they¡¯d been returned to the air, he was sure that all of them were a smidgen less bright than they had been before she¡¯d inhaled them.


    The only way he could be wrong was if the motes actually grew back to their normal brightness on their own over a period of time.


    Still, he continued to believe that if what he was seeing was indeed mana, that was a whole new experience he was going through.


    As they entered the car to continue their journey, Melmarc came to the conclusion that he would talk about it with his dad and mom when they got home.


    Who better to talk to about something completely new in the Gifted world than two Oaths? After all, Veebee had said that they were like extensions of the [August Intruder]. He was supposed to learn from them.


    When their car finally pulled into an area Melmarc could comfortably recognize, it was evening of the second day of their journey.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised that his phone didn¡¯t ring because his real phone was still back at the police precinct, and the cloned phone they¡¯d given him for his delivery mission had been lost at some point during his time in the portal.


    His father¡¯s phone didn¡¯t ring and Melmarc didn¡¯t even think about it. Unlike his mother, he doubted he¡¯d ever had to pick up his father¡¯s ringing phone just so that he could go running to give it to him.


    Their mother got phone calls every now and then, Uncle Dorthna got phone calls at a frequency that felt like once every full moon, and his father got phone calls at¡­ well, his father never got phone calls. None Melmarc had ever been aware of, at least.


    He couldn¡¯t even pull up a memory of his father on a call. His father did have a phone, though. And that said that his father got phone calls even if he¡¯d never witnessed one.


    Melmarc watched as his father took a turn down a street. He paused, confused by it. Their house was just a straight drive down the road past two intersections.


    He said nothing, however, as his father took another turn that sent them further away from the house. He did this almost four times before coming back to the road that led home at a different angle. In fact, it was an entirely different road.


    When they finally pulled up to the house, it was almost dark enough to be called night.


    His father parked the car and removed his seatbelt. He left the key in the ignition as he came down, and Melmarc came down too.


    At the door to the house, Uncle Dorthna stood with folded arms.


    Something about the sight of him solidified it somewhere in Melmarc¡¯s mind that he was home.


    Uncle Dorthna kept his eyes on Melmarc while Melmarc stood beside his door. His eyes were assessing, watching.


    ¡°Did you get taller?¡± Uncle Dorthna said finally.


    Before he could stop himself, Melmarc pushed up on his tiptoes, increasing his height, and nodded. ¡°I think so.¡±


    His father walked up to the front of the car and stood there. He spared Melmarc a very brief glance.


    ¡°Four inches,¡± he said simply. ¡°Maybe five.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna smiled. ¡°Kid¡¯s got your giant genes.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s father¡¯s reply was a grunt.


    Melmarc was about to say something when Dorthna¡¯s expression turned into a sharp frown. His eyes settled on the car and his brows furrowed.


    ¡°Tell me that I¡¯m not smelling Broken Divinity right now?¡± he said, still frowning.


    The moment the words left his mouth, Melmarc remembered the color of Caldath¡¯s indicator just before the Demi-god had died.


    He hadn¡¯t used his skills so there was no indicator above Dorthna¡¯s head right now, but he was certain that if he used it, he would see the same color.


    ¡°It is,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father answered. ¡°Will you help me bring it inside?¡±


    ¡°Tell me you didn¡¯t go killing something you could¡¯ve just left alone,¡± Dorthna grumbled as he went down to join them.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t kill anything,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father said, walking to the back of the car. ¡°Mel did.¡±


    Dorthna came to a stop in front of Melmarc and held out his hand for a handshake.


    Personally, he found that he would have actually liked a hug, it felt more personal. But he took his uncle¡¯s hand in a firm handshake.


    The moment their hands met, his interface lit up.


    [Congratulations August Intruder you have met a ?????]


    [You have met ???? ???? ????]


    It was an odd thing to realize that this part of his interface also didn¡¯t have a designation for Uncle Dorthna.


    Is it hiding it from me or does it actually not know?


    Dorthna stared momentarily at the space between them as well. He was clearly reading whatever his own interface was telling him.


    ¡°I guess you¡¯ll have to be wearing gloves from now on,¡± Dorthna said to him as he ended their handshake.


    Then he walked around Melmarc to go to the back of the car. As he got there, Melmarc heard him continue speaking.


    ¡°So, conquest or theft?¡± Dorthna asked his father.


    ¡°Portal reward,¡± his father answered.


    ¡°Belonging to?¡±


    ¡°Mel.¡±


    ¡°Really now,¡± Dorthna said, his voice a little too pleased. Then he popped his head to the side so that he could look at Melmarc. ¡°Congrats on your first Demi, Mel. Try not to make a habit of it, though. Before you know it, the others will be able to smell it on you.¡±


    Melmarc started for a moment. It was very odd hearing Uncle Dorthna talk to him about killing a Demi-god as if he was commenting on some kind of schoolwork.


    He came out from behind the car with the sword and spear Melmarc had gotten as his reward for killing Caldath in both hands.


    He came to a stop in front of Melmarc then looked around him. Then he looked around them. In the end, likely not seeing whatever it was that he was looking for, he shrugged.


    ¡°I guess you don¡¯t have one yet,¡± he said, then continued on his path to the house. ¡°You should really start wearing hand gloves, though.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s dad carried the chest with Valoth¡¯s armor into the house and Melmarc followed behind him.


    ¡°Lock the door, will you,¡± Dorthna requested as Melmarc entered the house.


    Melmarc locked the door, doing his best to ease himself into the simplicity of normalcy. He hadn¡¯t closed a door in what seemed like ages. It was weird how something so simple and natural seemed so different. There had been no doors to lock behind him for most of his time in the portal.


    There was no house with a couch either.


    When he turned away from the door, the first thing his eyes settled on was Ark barreling straight into him.


    Despite the height Melmarc had added, Ark picked him up in a bear hug and lifted him off the ground a little too easily for Melmarc¡¯s liking.


    Taller but lighter, I guess, he thought. In his defense, he hadn¡¯t eaten anything in days.


    How he was still alive was surprising.


    And just like that, he was starving.


    Ark dropped him back down and stepped away from him with a wide smile.


    ¡°I was beginning to get scared that your real family had finally found you and taken you back to some asylum where mom and dad stole you from,¡± Ark said, smiling.


    ¡°Ha ha,¡± Melmarc laughed sarcastically.


    Ark joked about things like that very often when they were growing up. Sometimes he¡¯d say that Melmarc was adopted. Sometimes he would say they¡¯d actually found him on the front porch. Melmarc¡¯s favorite was how Ark had actually saved him from two lions in the wilderness.


    The last one Ark had used only when they were little.


    The smile dropped slightly from Ark¡¯s face, and his expression turned slightly worried. ¡°How are you?¡± he asked.


    It was Melmarc¡¯s turn to smile. ¡°I¡¯m good, Ark. Hungry, but good.¡±


    Ark¡¯s smile returned. ¡°Ninra¡¯s still in school, but I¡¯ll call her right away and¡­¡± he paused. ¡°No need. I don¡¯t think she even realized that you were gone for longer than you were supposed to be.¡±


    Unless she called, Melmarc thought. It rarely happened but sometimes she just called him to talk about nothing important.


    Melmarc was about to point out how Ark should still call her when he noticed something.


    ¡°Ark,¡± he said, brows furrowed and walking up to him very slowly.


    Ark turned from heading into the kitchen. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    Melmarc could not believe his eyes. There was one thing that he¡¯d been looking forward to shoving in Ark¡¯s face when he got back. But now it was completely useless.


    ¡°You have got to be kidding me,¡± he muttered. In his time since getting a class, he¡¯d grown at least four inches taller.


    Ark met Melmarc¡¯s gaze, tilting his head to do it.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he grinned.


    There was no way he didn¡¯t know what was wrong. Still, Melmarc couldn¡¯t help himself. He had to ask the question even though he knew the answer.


    ¡°Did you get taller?¡±

 NINETY: Not A Stab Wound

    The cover of the book was as hard as Melmarc remembered as he ran a finger over it. It was one of Ark¡¯s old story books. It was a picture book not a comic book as Ark had always pointed out when they were younger.


    It was a story of Dark Mist. As a Delver, he had been the most famous story book character when they were children¡ªwhen he had still been alive. In all variations of the story books and comic books, he had only one origin. It was his true origin.


    His real life and his life in the story books followed the same pattern until he got into a Gifted school. That was when his story went from a biography to fiction. He slowly grew into becoming a superhero and the most sold superhero comic book of all time.


    The sound of the door opening drew his attention from the picture book with its hardcover and he turned away from it.


    Ark walked into the room and closed the door behind him quietly.


    ¡°Has Uncle Dorthna gone?¡± Melmarc asked, resting against the edge of the table.


    The table was lower now. He was taller now.


    Ark shook his head. ¡°Nope. Right now, he¡¯s lying on the couch and Baitley¡¯s showing.¡±


    Melmarc assumed that Baitley was some kind of reality show that was important to their Uncle but not to them. However, his mind focused on the odd part of the response.


    ¡°Is everything good?¡± he asked. ¡°Why¡¯s he on the couch?¡±


    ¡°If I knew, I¡¯d be richer than I currently am,¡± Ark replied.


    Uncle Dorthna was always gone by midnight anytime one of their parents was around. And right now it was well over thirty minutes past midnight. They had eating dinner already. Ark had ordered pizza from some place he always ordered pizza from.


    Usually, dinner was Uncle Dorthna¡¯s goodbye. A last supper for his visit for that period.


    ¡°You think he wants to talk with dad?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Ark¡¯s face pinched in thought before he shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. He usually gets all that out of the way before he leaves.¡±


    Ark went and sat down on his bed, eyes fixed on Melmarc with a grin.


    ¡°You got taller,¡± he said with an impish smile.


    ¡°I have at least two bad words in my head that I could say to you right now,¡± Melmarc grumbled.


    Ark smirked. ¡°Is cunt one of them?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s grimaced at hearing his brother and Ark laughed quietly.


    ¡°How tall are you now?¡± Ark asked. ¡°Six four? Six five?¡±


    Melmarc had no idea. ¡°I haven¡¯t checked.¡±


    ¡°I guess that makes sense.¡± Ark tapped a thoughtful finger to his lips. ¡°How tall is Eroms?¡±


    ¡°Six nine, six ten,¡± Melmarc answered easily.


    Ark folded his arms over his chest and rested his back against the headrest of his bed. ¡°And dad¡¯s like seven feet. We really are going to end up like dad, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    Melmarc smiled. ¡°And Ninra didn¡¯t even hit six three.¡±


    Ark chuckled at his words. ¡°We¡¯ll have to bend over every time we annoy her and she wants to hit us. I could¡¯ve sworn she would end up being mom¡¯s height.¡±


    ¡°Five eleven is six feet if you¡¯re being generous about it,¡± Melmarc pointed out as he moved to sit down. ¡°And mom¡¯s what? Six one?¡±


    ¡°Six feet,¡± Ark corrected. ¡°Round figure... I think.¡± He cocked his head to the side, studying Melmarc. ¡°I¡¯m six six now, so you should probably be around six five or six four.¡±


    Melmarc sighed as he listened to his brother. Sometimes when he was at home it was easy to forget that they were actually a family of tall people. Ninra was the only one below six feet.


    ¡°Must be tough being Delano,¡± Ark said. ¡°He¡¯s got to stand around you and Eroms all day and feel like some kind of a dwarf.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not that short.¡±


    ¡°I said feel, Mel.¡± Ark crossed his legs. ¡°Can you remind me how you were among the tallest students in school and people were still trying to bully you? In fact, how the hell were people bullying Eroms? Dude¡¯s large enough to pick them up by their head with one hand.¡±


    ¡°Eroms is fat.¡± Melmarc shrugged. ¡°He¡¯s always been a bit self-conscious about it. Call him fat and watch him just kinda shrink into himself.¡±


    ¡°But doesn¡¯t the short one call him fat all the time?¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow at Ark. ¡°You just used Delano¡¯s name a few seconds ago, where did ¡®the short one¡¯ come from?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s short, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    Melmarc groaned. ¡°He¡¯s like five seven.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ short.¡± Ark nodded as if he¡¯d just solved a complex equation. ¡°Anyway, enough about your short friend, what really happened? I know Uncle Dorthna knows, but he¡¯s not saying anything. And dad came back with you, which just raises all my worried older brother flags.¡±


    ¡°You do not have a worried older brother flag.¡± Melmarc flopped back on his bed and bounced once. It felt so good to lie down on a bed after so long.


    ¡°So you did have a tough time.¡±


    Melmarc tilted his head forward to look at Ark. ¡°What gave you that idea?¡±


    ¡°You moaned when you laid down.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°So what was it?¡± Ark pressed. ¡°Did you get kidnapped by some drug family the police were chasing?¡±


    The question brought the memory of half a brain to Melmarc¡¯s mind. He hadn¡¯t gotten to see where that entire thing went. Did the police get the group they were looking for or not?


    The guy who¡¯d shot him¡ªMelmarc couldn¡¯t remember his name¡ªhad apparently been handled by Veebee. So there was that. Melmarc¡¯s best guess was that Veebee had eaten him.


    He actually did say he ate him, though.


    ¡°No kidnapping,¡± Melmarc answered Ark.


    ¡°But did you do anything dangerous?¡±


    ¡°On earth? Nope.¡±


    Melmarc left the words there and closed his eyes. There was a stretch of peaceful silence before a pillow hit him in the face. Melmarc¡¯s eyes shot open and he groaned as he sat back up.


    Ark¡¯s expression didn¡¯t look the slightest bit shaken up.


    ¡°You do not,¡± Ark said emphatically, ¡°say something like that and get to sleep.¡±


    ¡°Something like what?¡± Melmarc asked, knowing exactly what he¡¯d done.


    ¡°You did not do anything dangerous on earth.¡± Ark picked up the second pillow on his bed in a threatening manner. ¡°You went into a portal, didn¡¯t you? And dad had to go save your ass.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t complaining, but Ark was always the one doing the interesting things in the house. It was fun to be the one with an interesting story this time around. And his story was definitely the interesting one.


    ¡°If you must know, you should be gentle with me,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°I will have you know that I¡¯ve been shot at.¡±


    ¡°Bullshit!¡± Ark exclaimed, but it seemed like a reflex response because his eyes narrowed on Melmarc as he added, ¡°Did you really get shot?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was shot at. And the bullet did hit me¡­¡±


    ¡°But no injuries¡­ right?¡± Ark asked, worried.


    ¡°None.¡± Melmarc smiled. ¡°In case you¡¯ve forgotten, I¡¯ve got a skill that doesn¡¯t allow me get damaged. It¡¯s a bit of a cheat skill if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°And if I remember correctly,¡± Ark said. ¡°You still feel the pain.¡±


    Melmarc remembered what it felt like when one of the needles from Caldath¡¯s skill had struck him in the neck when he¡¯d been saving Clinton during the fight.


    That had been far more painful than the pain from a gunshot.


    Ark¡¯s expression softened. ¡°It was painful, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Melmarc exhaled softly. ¡°It was.¡±


    But he had felt worse.


    ¡°Which one do you think hurts more?¡± Ark asked. ¡°A gunshot or being stabbed?¡±


    Melmarc looked at him, confused. ¡°How would I know? I¡¯ve never been stabbed before.¡±


    It was Ark¡¯s turn to cock a brow.


    Considering how easily everyone in the family could raise a single brow, Melmarc always needed a moment to remember that not everybody in the world could raise just one brow.


    ¡°I said I was shot at,¡± Melmarc explained. ¡°Never said I was stabbed.¡±


    ¡°Then what happened to your hand?¡±


    Melmarc raised his hand and looked at the injury. It hadn¡¯t changed in a while now. The obvious hole had sealed up but there was still a healing injury there. He could barely feel the pain if he wasn¡¯t looking at it.


    And I fought a super villain with it, he thought.


    His mind went back to the fight, and he couldn¡¯t remember feeling the pain. He also remembered how little the pain had felt from being hit by the person, too.


    I think I¡¯m building up a pain tolerance.


    ¡°So, what is that?¡± Ark asked.


    Melmarc turned his hand from one side to the other. When you thought of the word ¡®stab¡¯ a knife naturally came to mind. So, a stab wound was supposed to look like something that was inflicted by a knife.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes squinted at the injury. Definitely doesn¡¯t look like a knife wound.


    ¡°Why do you think it¡¯s a stab wound?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Do you know that you and Ninra are more alike than you think?¡± Ark pointed out suddenly.


    Melmarc had no idea where that had come from. ¡°Why do you say so?¡±


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You both like asking questions during a conversation. Nin asks questions like a therapist, and you ask questions as if you¡¯re trying to be sure that I¡¯m not bluffing.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know that. ¡°Doesn¡¯t change the question, though.¡±


    ¡°You have a hole on the other side as well,¡± Ark answered with a sigh. ¡°So, which one¡¯s more painful?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t genuinely say.¡±


    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Because this one,¡± Melmarc held up his hand, ¡°Was done by a weapon with effects and the gunshot was just a gunshot. Also, an actual injury has lingering pain while the pain I get when I use my skill is just instantaneous.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ no idea?¡±


    Melmarc sighed, knowing what was coming next. ¡°No idea.¡±


    Ark shook his head in mock disappointment. ¡°All that big brain and good grades and you can¡¯t figure something that simple out. I swear mom and dad wasted money on your tuition fee.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s instant pain and done versus lingering pain. How exactly am I supposed to relate them properly?¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re the one that likes trying to top the class, not me.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw ticked. ¡°You¡¯re an ass.¡±


    Ark smirked. ¡°Language.¡±


    ¡°You called me cunt,¡± Melmarc pointed out.


    Ark raised a finger in correction. ¡°I used the word cunt. Didn¡¯t call you a cunt. And I can be forgiven for that because I¡¯m the delinquent that skips classes, beats people up, and excels at sports. You¡¯re the brains, I¡¯m the brawns.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the brains, and you¡¯re the ass.¡±


    ¡°Says the guy with zero female friends,¡± Ark laughed. ¡°Which is funny because I¡¯m not even talking about girlfriends.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to protest but closed it without saying a word.


    Pelumi had come to mind and so had the girl he¡¯d met at the registration, the daughter of Dragon-Knight. He frowned suddenly, unable to remember her name.


    So you definitely can¡¯t call her a friend.


    And he didn¡¯t think he could call Pelumi a friend since they hadn¡¯t known each other long enough, and he didn¡¯t even have her number.


    Wait, I do have her number.


    He brightened up for a moment before dimming back down. Her number was in his actual phone and that was still at the precinct. If they¡¯d put it in the cloned phone they¡¯d given him, that wouldn¡¯t matter because he didn¡¯t have that one either.


    ¡°See,¡± Ark laughed. ¡°No bitches.¡±


    Melmarc sighed. ¡°Last time I checked, you aren¡¯t too big to be punished, Ark.¡±


    ¡°Punished by who?¡±


    ¡°Mom and dad. I just have to tell them that you¡¯re calling girls bitches again.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an expression, Mel. Besides, I¡¯ll just deny it.¡±


    Melmarc said nothing as a small smile stretched his lips. Something about the conversation just felt cathartic. Just a few days ago he was in a portal, now here he was talking about how he doesn¡¯t have any female friends.


    ¡°Chioma broke up with me,¡± Ark blurted out.


    Melmarc raised his head up from his bed so that he could look at his brother. Ark didn¡¯t look very bothered by the news he¡¯d just given.


    ¡°Chioma is Freda, right?¡± he asked. ¡°Your girlfriend.¡±


    Ark nodded.


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°What did you do?¡±


    ¡°She found out that I was Gifted.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Melmarc said, confused. ¡°Why is that grounds for a breakup? Everybody wants to date a Gifted.¡±


    ¡°She didn¡¯t find out from me.¡± Ark picked up his phone and started typing.


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Then who did she find out from?¡±


    After a short moment of typing, Ark turned his phone for Melmarc to see. On the screen was a video from the internet.


    Melmarc watched as Ark suplexed a bull. The video had over a million views.


    ¡°You went viral?¡± Melmarc blurted out.


    Ark nodded. ¡°I was mini famous.¡±


    Unsure of what to say, Melmarc ran a hand down his face. Ark was definitely still having interesting things happen in his life. It turned out that if he wasn¡¯t the one making the interesting things happen, the world was very interested in making it happen for him.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he said in the end. ¡°I know how much you liked her.¡±


    Ark didn¡¯t answer immediately, but when he did, there was a touch of sadness in his voice. ¡°Yeah¡­ She really didn¡¯t judge me for the fights and the skipping classes and all that.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. Chioma that was also Freda had been one of the nicest girlfriends his brother had dated in a while.


    The conversation seemed to be going down a gloomy path, and Ark was not a big fan of gloomy, so Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised when he hurried to change the subject.


    ¡°Did you get any new skill?¡± he asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Something strong. It was a big help in the portal.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s something to think about,¡± Ark marveled. ¡°And just so you know, you are going to tell me about your portal experience one day. At least when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    ¡°But until then,¡± Ark leaned forward like a child who was about to see the coolest thing, ¡°let¡¯s see this strong skill of yours.¡±


    Melmarc sat up and raised his hand for Ark to see. He moved it slowly until a ring of mana appeared around his wrist.


    [You have used skill Rings of Saturn]


    [Remaining uses 3/4]


    ¡°I¡¯ve got this.¡±


    Ark moved closer, sat at the edge of his bed so that his feet were on the ground. He leaned in as if he was tall enough to cross the distance between the two beds without having to get up. He was not.


    After a moment, he got up and joined Melmarc on his side of the bed.


    Melmarc scooted away from him immediately. ¡°Careful. It packs a heavy punch.¡±


    ¡°Uhuh.¡± Ark didn¡¯t sound the least bit worried. ¡°Why¡¯s your hand still moving? What¡¯s that about?¡±


    ¡°I have to move the part of my body I want it to appear on for it to appear,¡± Melmarc explained.


    ¡°You¡¯re still moving your hand, though.¡±


    ¡°I have to keep it moving for the skill to remain there.¡±


    Ark watched it for a moment longer before saying, ¡°I guess you took it in the end.¡±


    Melmarc pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew what Ark was talking about. After doing his best not to take the skill [Rings of Saturn] because of what had happened to their mom, he¡¯d ended up in a position where he¡¯d had no choice but to take it.


    If I had taken it in the beginning, he wondered, would I still have ended up with the [Faker] class?


    ¡°Looks powerful.¡± Ark¡¯s gaze wandered slightly. He stopped looking at it and started looking around it. His eyelids narrowed. He squinted. ¡°Looks odd, too. Any idea what type of mana it is?¡±


    That surprised Melmarc. He hadn¡¯t expected the question.


    ¡°It¡¯s raw mana,¡± he answered.


    Ark rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. ¡°So that¡¯s how raw mana reacts. Interesting.¡±


    He reached a hand out towards it, curious, and Melmarc stopped moving his hand. The skill terminated and the ring disappeared.


    Ark cocked a brow at that. ¡°What was that for?¡±


    ¡°I already told you that it¡¯s a powerful skill. I¡¯m not going to be responsible for you losing a hand.¡±


    Ark dropped his hand. ¡°So how does it work? Does it blow things up?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°From what I¡¯ve learnt, and I¡¯m not entirely sure, but I think it breaks through skills. Someone told me that it should. I can also throw it so that it cuts or throw it so that it does blunt force damage. Also, my skills don¡¯t work well when it¡¯s active.¡±


    ¡°So it also affects your skill.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°They are also quite heavy.¡±


    ¡°So you can just turn it on and off?¡± Ark asked. ¡°Just like that?¡±


    ¡°I can, but I wasn¡¯t using it that way.¡± Melmarc pursed his lips in thought. ¡°If I keep them active, they are a bit heavy, it makes my punches heavier and definitely more powerful.¡±


    ¡°And when you¡¯re done throwing hands?¡±


    ¡°I throw them.¡±


    Ark tilted his head to the side in thought. ¡°I guess that makes sense. How¡¯s the mana drain?¡±


    ¡°Weird,¡± Melmarc answered easily. ¡°It doesn¡¯t drain my mana but it kinda makes my mana weaker¡­ if that makes sense.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll pretend that it does.¡± Ark moved on Melmarc¡¯s bed until he was resting his back against the headrest. ¡°How do you think the skill will match up against another Gifted?¡±


    Melmarc had no idea.


    It would definitely be deadly to use on a C-rank Gifted. He was sure of that. The [Damned] were definitely stronger than the average C-rank Gifted and he¡¯d used it to crush their head every now and again.


    Maybe a B-rank can handle it?


    He shook his head even as the thought came. Clinton was a B-rank Gifted and he hadn¡¯t felt as physically strong as any of the [Damned].


    The B-rank [Damned], he told himself, remembering that the [Damned] they¡¯d faced in the castle had been B-rank and those were the ones that had done a number on Clinton.


    ¡°Maybe a B-rank Gifted could handle it if they are strength based,¡± he said, unsure. ¡°But not a C-rank. I think it will be lethal on a C-rank.¡±


    Ark nodded like a teacher who¡¯d guided his student to learn something with nothing but questions. ¡°So, what you¡¯re saying is that you shouldn¡¯t use the skill on a C-rank Gifted or a B-rank that doesn¡¯t have a strength based class?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°And how do you think it will fare against an A-rank?¡±


    ¡°No idea.¡± Melmarc¡¯s gaze narrowed on his brother.


    Ark fought back a suspicious smile. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to hit you and see what happens,¡± Melmarc said emphatically.


    ¡°That¡¯s not where my mind was going, but¡­ Now that you¡¯ve brought it up, it doesn¡¯t sound like a bad idea. I am a strength based A-rank Gifted, after all.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    Ark smiled. ¡°We¡¯ll talk about it later. If Uncle D is still around by tomorrow morning, maybe we could make something out of it.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Ark continued, ignoring Melmarc¡¯s refusal. ¡°I was asking because of school.¡±


    School.


    It was a single word but not a simple word. In the normal order of things, school was supposed to be the important next step in Melmarc¡¯s life after becoming a Gifted, not going into a portal.


    It was meant to be the mentorship program, then school, then whatever next. The portal part of the progression wasn¡¯t supposed to happen until you were preparing for the Delver certification.


    ¡°You have thought about where you want to go to school, right?¡± Ark asked.


    Melmarc, in fact, had not.


    But with his dreams of becoming a powerful Delver there was only really one choice when it came to which Gifted school he wanted to attend.


    Fallen High.


    It was really the only school anyone aspiring to become a Delver would ever want to go to. However, there were reasons why everyone didn¡¯t go there. For starters, you could only get a spot to take the admission exams once you acquired one of three criteria.


    The first criterion was money, from what Melmarc had heard, and a lot of it. The second criterion was a recommendation from a renowned Delver either by reputation or by class rank and reputation. Which meant that the lower the rank, the higher the reputation. And the third criterion was based on a scholarship program offered by the school.


    What the school used to judge who was worthy of the scholarship offer remained unknown. They had a site where you could apply for the scholarship program and Melmarc had considered how he would apply a few times in the past before he¡¯d become Gifted.


    Now, however, he didn¡¯t think he needed the scholarship program. It was funny when he thought about it, though. Achieving the third criterion basically solved all the criteria because a scholarship from the school was basically the school scouting you. It implied you would have a recommendation from the school itself because they were the ones that came for you. It would also solve the monetary aspect because they would be the ones in charge of your finances.


    Melmarc opened his mouth to give the obvious answer when Ark interrupted him.


    ¡°Apart from Fallen High,¡± Ark said.


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc protested.


    ¡°Because you have to consider what will happen if you don¡¯t get in,¡± Ark answered easily. ¡°Everyone knows that they have certain qualifications to meet.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got two out of them.¡±


    Ark raised three fingers and ticked one off. ¡°Money.¡± He shook the remaining two. ¡°What else? Because I know for a fact that they did not offer you a scholarship.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a recommendation from a Delver of repute.¡±


    ¡°And what Delver is that?¡±


    ¡°A Delver named Vlad,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°We met him on that school trip I took just after gaining my class. He was an important Delver in Romania before moving here.¡±


    Ark turned thoughtful. ¡°I did not know that.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Fallen High.¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°The criteria are to take the exams. You have to consider what happens if you fail them. So you have to think of another school.¡±


    Melmarc put his mind to it.


    Fallen High was certainly not the only school in the country, it was simply the best. Not only did most of its alumni go on to become at least decent Delvers, the school was located in the heart of the country¡¯s Gifted city. It was the best school to go to if you wanted to build connections that could help your career as a Delver.


    However, there were schools that were close competitors. There were schools that rivaled it in how many successful Delvers graduated from them. Schools that held the top five spots in all competitions hosted country wide.


    They were popular because there was always an annual competition held every year. All the schools for Gifted created a team as well as Gifted that were not necessarily affiliated to a Gifted school but met the age and rank requirement. The latter would form groups and join the tournament.


    It always motivated everyone since there was always a reward attached. If a school won the competition, then they used the reward as they pleased. If some upstart group of kids won it, then that group used the reward as they pleased with some level of guidance.


    ¡°The Black Bears aren¡¯t so bad,¡± Ark said.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like the Black Bears because the school was known to be quite obsessed with intelligence-based classes. Rumors had it that it was hard to actually grow if you didn¡¯t have a class based on mana use.


    ¡°Too intelligence driven,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem,¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ve got the [Faker] class. I¡¯m sure you can spin it intelligence wise.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go that way. Besides, there¡¯s already general discrimination when it comes to my class. I don¡¯t think a school like that would be for me.¡±


    ¡°Good point. What about¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hold up,¡± Melmarc interrupted. ¡°You don¡¯t want to go to Fallen High?¡±


    ¡°Says who?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°You are looking for alternatives.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just in case,¡± Ark said. ¡°Anything can happen. You know that better than I do.¡±


    Melmarc stared at him. ¡°So you still have plans of getting into Fallen High?¡±


    ¡°Of course. But if I don¡¯t make it, then I¡¯m going for Edulard.¡±


    Edulard was basically the last of the top five.


    ¡°Why Edulard?¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°Met a girl during my mentorship.¡±


    ¡°And she¡¯s going to Edulard,¡± Melmarc sighed. ¡°You¡¯re going to a school because of a girl.¡±


    ¡°Nope. I¡¯m going to Fallen High. If I can¡¯t get into Fallen High, I might as well go to a school that has something I want and is in the top five.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°We¡¯ll talk more about that later. For now, I¡¯ve got a question.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Any new skill?¡±


    Ark smirked. ¡°I got one awesome one.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Behold.¡± Ark held out his hand, palm up. ¡°The power of the [Demon King].¡±


    His hand burst into flames. The flame was as black as the night was dark.


    Melmarc almost laughed. Whatever he did, Ark was always a step ahead. Always achieving something more volatile.


    He is the adventurous one, after all.


    ¡°So, I get rings,¡± Melmarc chuckled. ¡°And you get the flames of the dark lord. I see you¡¯re really going all in on this [Demon King] class.¡±


    The flame winked out of existence after a moment, leaving Ark¡¯s smiling face. Little tongues of the dark flame licked the air before dying out.


    ¡°That¡¯s not all,¡± Ark grinned. ¡°Remember when I asked you what hurt more, a gunshot or a stab wound?¡±


    Melmarc nodded suspiciously. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you got a stab wound.¡±


    Ark¡¯s grin widened.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a stab wound!¡± he declared smugly, pulling up his shirt. ¡°Check it.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped when he saw the mark.


    ¡°That,¡± he said with a shaky voice, ¡°is not a stab wound.¡±


    Ark looked down at it, then back up at Melmarc. ¡°Of course it is.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was looking at.


    ¡°Ark,¡± he said with all seriousness in his voice. ¡°That. Is. Not. A. Stab. Wound.¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°Well, I call it a stab wound.¡±


    Melmarc had a small stab wound in his hand and he was still worried by the size of it.


    He ran a tired hand down his face, still staring at the injury on his brother¡¯s side. It was official. Something was definitely wrong with how Ark¡¯s mind worked if he was so excited by this.


    "I think it''s time for you to start seeing a therapist again, Ark."


    Ark just stared at him, still grinning.

 NINETY-ONE: Anti-Christ Is Badass

    Melmarc leaned slightly forward to look at Ark¡¯s injury even though he didn¡¯t have to. Ark called it a stab wound but what Melmarc was looking at was a massive scar. It would only classify as a stab wound if someone had run him through with a pole or something.


    ¡°How did you get that?¡± There was a touch of worry in Melmarc¡¯s voice.


    The injury looked old, though. It was nothing but a scar now. A massive scar that filled up the entire left side of his abdomen. It was a large circle that started just below his rib cage and ended less than an inch past his navel.


    Then there were streaks of lines that extended from it. It kinda looks like a sun.


    Ark moved his lips in contemplation. ¡°There was a Chaos Run where we were.¡±


    ¡°What the hell were you doing near a Chaos Run, Ark?¡±


    Ark was more than happy to cock a brow. ¡°What were you doing inside a portal, Mel?¡±


    Melmarc pressed his lips into a thin line. Ark had a point.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Ark continued. ¡°My mentor had to go in to save the day and rescue some people while the Delvers came to help put down the monsters. He wanted me to stay behind but I said that I could help.¡±


    ¡°Did you?¡±


    ¡°Hush,¡± Ark shushed him. ¡°I know your brain has a billion questions at all times, but you¡¯ll have to wait until class is over to ask your questions. As I was saying, he didn¡¯t want me to help but he¡¯d seen me suplex a bull without breaking a sweat and he needed all the help he could get. As long as I stayed out of trouble, I was good.¡±


    ¡°So you tagged along.¡±


    ¡°So I tagged along.¡±


    Ark¡¯s mentor should not have allowed Ark tag along. Like Melmarc, Ark was curious by nature. However, where Melmarc was curious about knowledge, Ark was curious about experience.


    Melmarc saw a giant monster and his curiosity moved in the direction of wanting to know what monster it was, what its natural habitat would be like. He asked questions like how he could escape it, how fast it could move. The simple things.


    Ark wanted to know if he could beat it in a fist fight.


    That was simply it.


    ¡°And how did you get a hole in you if all you were doing was rescuing people?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°That one was easy,¡± Ark answered, nonchalant. ¡°We were being attacked by giant scorpion-like monsters. It got me with its stinger. Massive thing, this big.¡± He held his hands apart at a distance to emphasize the size. ¡°Punched a hole straight through the other side.¡±


    How is he talking about it like he just fell off a tree?


    ¡°You should see the look on your face.¡± Ark laughed. ¡°Lighten up, its not like I died.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a massive scar, Ark,¡± Melmarc argued. ¡°You could¡¯ve died.¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°Could¡¯ve, would¡¯ve, should¡¯ve. Well, turns out Spitfire¡¯s got some wicked healing factor.¡±


    ¡°We already know that,¡± Melmarc said.


    When Ark had brought Spitfire home, it was always biting him. But despite how much blood was spilled with each bite, its healing factor was so strong that the injury was always already healed even before they got to clean off the blood.


    Ark shook his head as he let down his shirt. ¡°Oh, Mel. We had no idea. It bit me three times and this,¡± he raised his shirt to expose the scar again, ¡°sealed up in minutes. By the next morning it was a scar again¡­ though I think it bit me again while I was asleep. I can¡¯t be sure.¡±


    Worry colored Melmarc¡¯s expression as a thought dawned on him. ¡°Wait, you carried Spitfire out in the open where anyone could see it? I thought we agreed to keep it a secret?¡±


    ¡°It was a Chaos Run, and I needed all the help I could get. What did you expect me to do? I had to save people while giant monsters were running amok. Spitfire was a very good distraction. He saved a few lives, too.¡±


    Melmarc turned his head from side to side, surveyed the room.


    ¡°Where¡¯s he by the way?¡± he asked. Before their mentorship program, Spitfire never left Ark¡¯s side.


    Ark pointed at the bed. ¡°He¡¯s under your bed.¡±


    ¡°Why my bed?¡± Melmarc rushed to look under his bed. ¡°What happened to yours?¡±


    Ark shrugged as Melmarc went down on his knees to check under his bed. ¡°No idea," Ark replied. "I think he¡¯s just taken a fancy to under your bed. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s because it¡¯s clean.¡±


    Ark wasn¡¯t necessarily dirty, but he was the kind of person to ignore the back of shelves and tight spaces when he cleaned the house. In the room, he had the dirty socks and under his bed was always littered with his shoes when they had a perfectly functioning shoe rack that Ninra had insisted their parents get for them.


    True to Ark¡¯s words, Spitfire was happily nestled under Melmarc¡¯s bed.


    ¡°Is that my shirt?¡± Melmarc asked, appalled.


    Spitfire had wrapped itself in a green shirt so that only its face could be seen. In its mouth was also a blue shirt.


    Melmarc frowned, looking up at Ark. ¡°Are those my shirts?¡±


    ¡°In my defense, I didn¡¯t give them to him,¡± Ark said. ¡°He chose them himself.¡±


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t take them away because¡­?¡±


    ¡°Because Spitfire comes in peace?¡±


    ¡°I should punch you.¡±


    ¡°You should try.¡±


    Melmarc got up to his feet and dusted his hands. He sat back down on the bed with a small smile on his lips. With everything he¡¯d gone through, it was good to be home. The annoying things, while annoying, weren¡¯t so annoying right now.


    I¡¯ll probably lose my mind in a few days, he thought, maybe weeks.


    But for now, he was happy with the normalcy.


    ¡°So,¡± he said when he was back on the bed. ¡°You got that sorted out in two days and figured there was no need to go to the hospital to have it checked out.¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°All¡¯s well that ends well.¡±


    ¡°Ark, you¡¯ve got a massive scar.¡±


    ¡°I know,¡± Ark grinned. ¡°Cool, isn¡¯t it. I was talking to Uncle Dorthna and we¡¯ve come to the conclusion that it will definitely help with my admission as long as I get into the interview phase for Fallen High.¡±


    ¡°How¡ª¡± the question died on Melmarc¡¯s lips as he thought about it.


    If he knew his brother well, and Uncle Dorthna¡¯s propensity for thinking like his brother when he wanted to, then he had a vague idea of what path they were following.


    ¡°The scar,¡± he said after a moment¡¯s thought, ¡°will be proof that you¡¯ve been in a tough situation and come out alright.¡±


    Ark nodded. ¡°And there¡¯s a part of the application process that is set up for medical conditions of any kind. Uncle D and I are thinking that I should submit the results of the therapy I had after the whole incident.¡±


    ¡°You had therapy after the incident?¡±


    ¡°Yea, my mentor said it was government regulations.¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°Apparently, when a mentee like myself experiences high risk situations during their mentorship program, they¡¯re supposed to have a therapy session. I was hoping to get something like an [Empath] for a therapist, like the one on dad¡¯s team, but I just ended up with a non-Gifted. He was fun, though. Laughed at all my jokes. And I mean all of them.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got terrible jokes, Ark,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°If he laughed at all of them, then he was faking it.¡±


    ¡°Or he¡¯s got good taste.¡± Ark adjusted on the bed as if he had suddenly become uncomfortable with his position. ¡°Anyway, it¡¯s the thought that counts.¡±


    ¡°Fair,¡± Melmarc conceded. ¡°So what were the results of the session?¡±


    ¡°The same one you got as a kid.¡±


    ¡°A clean bill of health?¡±


    Ark nodded. ¡°What do you know, Mel? My mind¡¯s now a steel cage. I¡¯m unshakable.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t so sure about that. His therapist had basically told him something similar as a child, only for him to enter a portal and start thinking of punishing people who¡¯d wronged him and negotiating punishments.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    He remembered when he¡¯d been fighting Caldath and rather than punch him, he¡¯d tried to bite him like some rabid animal.


    Thank God for the summoned¡¯s skill, he thought, if not I would¡¯ve lost my head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t put too much faith in it,¡± he told Ark. ¡°Therapists aren¡¯t always right.¡±


    Ark laughed. ¡°Of course I won¡¯t. I¡¯m just taking advantage of it and adding it to the application. It¡¯ll solve the issue of if I can work well under pressure and how I handle and come out of stressful situations.¡±


    ¡°And then you¡¯ll find a way to accidentally flash them your scar while you¡¯re there so that they know that you¡¯ve been through a lot and come out fine,¡± Melmarc added.


    Ark nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Yup. With proper manipulation, I¡¯ll be a shoe in.¡±


    Melmarc saw some logic in the plan. But it only worked if the examiners and interviewers were completely human, and by human he meant sympathetic.


    He had heard about how Delvers didn¡¯t really sweat the emotional stuff. They assessed what kind of benefit you would be in a bad situation, if you would be a positive or a negative. The fact that they assessed you as a potential Delver meant that they wouldn¡¯t coddle you. They didn¡¯t care if the situation was going to give you a mental breakdown, they put you through it, rescued you just before the breakdown, and informed you that you didn¡¯t make the cut.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t really complaining about it, though. There were schools that were nicer about their processes, but the top five Gifted schools were not one of them.


    ¡°But you actually grew, though,¡± Ark said suddenly. ¡°I know I¡¯m still taller, but wow. Talk about a growth spurt.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only a few inches, Ark.¡±


    ¡°Almost five inches in two weeks isn¡¯t just a few inches, Mel.¡±


    ¡°You grew, too.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯ve got something called a Demonic trait. It''s called [Optimum Existence],¡± Ark grinned. ¡°What¡¯s your excuse?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped, and his brows furrowed in confusion. ¡°Me, too.¡±


    ¡°For real?¡± Ark¡¯s grin widened. ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡±


    But he was already on the move, scooting over to Melmarc.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to see it,¡± he insisted. ¡°How many percent are you on? Is it also Demonic?¡±


    Melmarc acted without thinking about it, calling up his interface, zeroing in on [Optimum Existence] so that it was the only thing that popped up.


    [Optimum Existence (03.05%)]


    That¡¯s odd, Melmarc thought.


    He hadn¡¯t used any of his remaining [EP]. And the last time he¡¯d checked, the trait was at two percent. Between leaving the ruins of Caldath, going into the other world and coming back home, it had grown by at least one percent without any interference.


    He was wondering how that had happened when the answer came to him. When he¡¯d gained the trait, it had tried to grow, only to inform him that the mana within the ruins of Caldath was not something that he could use to grow it. If he wasn¡¯t mistaken the interface had called it tainted, so he¡¯d been forced to use [EP].


    Which means that if I leave it alone it will just keep growing on it¡¯s own.


    That was a good thing. One less thing he had to spend his [EP] on.


    ¡°Oh, Mel,¡± Ark said in mock dismay. ¡°You need to up those numbers. Those are rookie numbers.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s yours on?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Ark was more than happy to pull his own up. Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped at the sight.


    [Optimum Existence (28.00%)]


    What the hell? He thought. How is his this¡­


    His question died almost immediately as he really thought about it. Since coming back, he¡¯d gained an extra percent in the skill without doing anything, and Ark had been on earth the entire time he¡¯d been in the portal.


    Logically speaking, while Melmarc¡¯s had been hindered from growing, Ark¡¯s [Optimum Existence] had been growing freely.


    Curious as to what came at so high a percentage, Melmarc asked, ¡°Any side-effects?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Ark answered without missing a beat. ¡°My emotions are kinda heightened a bit.¡±


    ¡°Define a bit.¡±


    ¡°Remember that Uncle Dorthna¡¯s show,¡± Ark said. ¡°The one you don¡¯t care about, where that guy has been looking for his girlfriend who went missing?¡±


    ¡°She was kidnapped by the bad guy,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t take two brain cells to figure that out. Don¡¯t you and Uncle D have a running bet on that show?¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡± Ark nodded. ¡°I bet him fifty bucks that she¡¯ll die. He bet that she¡¯ll live.¡±


    Melmarc almost shook his head. Ark was eccentric in his own way. He liked life the way life came at him, and he faced it as if it was a dare. The show would be more interesting to Ark if the girlfriend died.


    ¡°So what about it?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°Has he found her?¡±


    Ark nodded.


    ¡°Then who won the bet?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°So she died.¡±


    ¡°Yup.¡±


    If it wasn¡¯t a show about fictional characters, it would¡¯ve been a truly sad thing.


    ¡°And this has something to do with our conversation, how?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Well, I watched the episode where she died.¡± Ark scratched the back of his neck nervously.


    ¡°And?¡± Melmarc pressed.


    ¡°I cried.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped. Ark crying because a character died in a show was as impossible as Melmarc being transported to another world and finding out that it was real.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Melmarc blurted. ¡°You cried? Why?¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°It was just a little sad. After all his hard work to leave the violent life, he finally succeeds and finds love, only to lose it to a past he had done his best to avoid. Then there was the girl who didn¡¯t deserve to die or go through what she went through.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. Ark wasn¡¯t a terrible person, but he was more likely to laugh about that end than cry about it. He¡¯d even had money riding on it.


    Melmarc stared at his brother, not sure of what he wanted to say.


    ¡°Is this character development?¡±


    Ark frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll shove my arm down your throat, and we¡¯ll see just how much character development I¡¯ve got. It¡¯s more villain arc than character development.¡±


    Melmarc was very sure this wasn¡¯t a villain arc.


    In summary, Ark had gotten his own monster pet, gained a class out of it, gone for his mentorship program, suplexed a bull, saved a bunch of people during a Chaos Run, gotten a devastating injury that he survived and had left him with a badass scar and was now slowly coming to a deeper understanding of his feelings.


    It¡¯s like he¡¯s the protagonist in his own comic book.


    Melmarc almost smacked himself on the forehead.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Ark continued. ¡°It¡¯s a bit of an annoying thing, but it also comes with some perks. There¡¯s the height thing. I also see better, like really better.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know if he saw better now. He¡¯d never really had any eye problems. ¡°What about your mind? Do you get confused sometimes, like your brain wanting to do things you normally wouldn¡¯t do?¡±


    Ark paused to think about it, then shook his head. ¡°Nope. Brain¡¯s still functioning the way it should. Do you get that sometimes?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°It¡¯s annoying. When someone does something bad, I really want them to be punished for it.¡±


    Ark laughed. ¡°And you¡¯re just at three percent? You really got the short end of the stick.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Melmarc groaned. ¡°You develop a deeper acceptance of your emotions, and I develop the need to punish people, among other things.¡±


    ¡°Well, never say never, you might get better once you up your numbers.¡± Ark shrugged. ¡°You just have to find a way to up your numbers.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s gaze narrowed on Ark in suspicion. ¡°Have you found a way to up your numbers?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°That answer was a bit too fast, Ark.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because it¡¯s the truth.¡± Ark got up from the bed. ¡°Didn¡¯t need to think about it.¡±


    He moved to go to his own bed and Melmarc reached out to grab him by the wrist. ¡°What are you¡ª¡±


    Ark¡¯s expression suddenly sharpened on the air in front of him and Melmarc paused.


    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked.


    Ark turned to him in surprise. ¡°That was you?¡±


    ¡°What was me?¡± Melmarc asked, confused. ¡°And why are you smiling like that?¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Ark barked in excitement. ¡°I knew you were up to something.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. What¡¯s happening right now?¡±


    Ark hurried to sit back down.


    ¡°So, here¡¯s what happened,¡± he explained, excited. ¡°A few days ago, I¡¯m at home and I get a notification that says something about an [August Intruder].¡±


    Melmarc gulped without even knowing why.


    ¡°I asked Uncle D what it was,¡± Ark continued. ¡°And all he says is that I should ask mom and dad when they get back. I was like, ¡®okay, no big deal.¡¯ Then boom, not too long after, I get another notification that this [August Intruder] has established dominance. Dude, you¡¯re the [August Intruder]. This is so fucking awesome.¡±


    ¡°Language,¡± Melmarc said before he could stop himself.


    Ark flicked him on the forehead. ¡°I¡¯m older.¡±


    Melmarc rubbed his forehead, surprised. It had actually hurt.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got no idea what you just did,¡± Ark continued, still excited. ¡°Do you know what it means to establish dominance? You basically declared yourself as the owner of the world.¡±


    Melmarc blinked. Had he really done that? Well, he knew what he¡¯d done, but just how many people got the notification?


    Slowly, he remembered how his dad had responded when he¡¯d done it. He¡¯d made Fendor teleport them immediately, then he¡¯d asked what he had done.


    What if everyone saw the notification? He asked himself.


    If his dad had received a notification similar to what Ark had received, then it was possible that all the Oaths had received it, too.


    Melmarc grew worried. What did that mean for him?


    ¡°What did the notification say?¡± he asked Ark. ¡°Let me see it.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t show you,¡± Ark replied. ¡°It was completely gone when I dismissed it. I tried to look at it again, but it wasn¡¯t in the notification history.¡±


    It¡¯s not that bad, right? Melmarc asked himself, hoping.


    But it was difficult to convince himself when he remembered how his father had reacted. He was still bundled up in worry when Ark spoke again.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s an [August Intruder]?¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth only to close it. He remembered Veebee¡¯s warning, he was free to share the information he¡¯d gained, but there was a downside. Anyone he told about what he¡¯d learned being an [August Intruder] would have all the disadvantages of being an [August Intruder] but none of the perks.


    Melmarc could only imagine how bad that could be. There was no doubt that being an [August Intruder] had a lot of perks, but by contrast the responsibilities would be heavy.


    He could just imagine someone that was not an [August Intruder] walking into a portal only to realize that at C-rank he had to fight against a Demi-god.


    You can¡¯t tell him. At least not everything.


    But how much could he tell him? Melmarc wondered. How much was just enough?


    ¡°It¡¯s something called a designation,¡± Melmarc said, answering Ark¡¯s question. ¡°I got it when I got into the portal. I¡¯m still getting the hang of it.¡±


    Ark nodded in understanding. ¡°That would explain why your [Optimum Existence] is so low. But is it like mine?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°What¡¯s yours described as?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°It says that I draw all traits to achieve a perfect form.¡±


    ¡°Mine says the same except I¡¯m achieving the perfect demonic form.¡± Ark grinned. ¡°Sounds badass.¡±


    ¡°Sounds more anti-Christ than badass, Ark.¡±


    ¡°Anti-Christ is kinda badass, too.¡±


    Melmarc sighed in frustration, there was no getting Ark to see it differently. ¡°And the perfect demonic form gives you more height and keeps you in touch with your emotions?¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s more, but that¡¯s story for another day. And there¡¯s my cue.¡± He moved to his bed and laid down on it. ¡°Good night, Mel. Something tells me that tomorrow is going to be a fun day.¡±


    Melmarc laid down on the bed and thought about it. Ark wasn¡¯t wrong. Tomorrow would be an interesting day for sure.


    For one, Dorthna knew what Broken Divinity was.


    It brought back a family mystery to his mind. A mystery that he and Ark had stopped paying too much attention to.


    Just who exactly, or what exactly, was Dorthna?


    It was the thought that filled his mind as sleep took him. That, and what he could do to convince Ark to get rid of the scar. There had to be a Healer that could do it.


    In the end, he concluded that he would be more likely to find success after Ark had achieved his goal of getting into the Gifted school of his choice.


    ¡­


    Aurora¡¯s hands tightened on the steering wheel as she took a turn down the road. Not for the first time, she envied her husband for having Fendor in his team.


    She couldn¡¯t remember the last time David had used a plane to get home after a portal delve. But here she was, renting a car just after a long flight.


    There was no question that she would be mentally exhausted when she got home. But more importantly, her eyes darted to the dashboard of the vehicle.


    She¡¯d connected her phone to the car and it was alerting her to an incoming call.


    Her eyes settled on the name of the caller and she only had one thought.


    That¡¯s unexpected.


    There was a single name on the display.


    Shield.


    Aurora hadn¡¯t heard from a lot of the Oaths ever since she had stopped being an Oath. Shield was one of them.


    ¡°I wonder why she¡¯s calling me.¡±

 NINETY-TWO: Dominance

    Aurora took a left turn down a street she didn¡¯t know. Turning the steering wheel with a single hand, she remembered how much it irked David, her husband. He never said anything whenever she did it, but she¡¯d grown to notice over the years.


    David was meticulous like that, the safest driver she had ever seen, amongst other things. But anyone who knew her husband well enough knew that his meticulousness had nothing to do with safety but control.


    Regardless, anytime she was in a car with him, both hands were always on the steering wheel at the correct position.


    The screen on her dashboard lit up again and she looked at it.


    While she already knew who it was, the only reason she kept looking when it lit up was because a part of her continued to hope that she would see her husband¡¯s name, or Mel¡¯s name. This was the eighth time it was lighting up in the last ten hours.


    And it was the same name.


    Shield.


    Aurora had bigger problems on her mind. Problems that were significantly more important than whatever it was that Shield would possibly have to say.


    She¡¯s just going to keep calling, Aurora sighed.


    With a silent grumble she clicked on the button on the steering wheel of the car that answered the call.


    A small silence filled the car once the call was picked and Aurora waited in it.


    One thing she¡¯d learned growing up in such a volatile and dangerous childhood was that whenever you picked up a call, you did not speak first. You never speak first.


    Anyone who knew her knew this. Even her kids knew this.


    When Shield finally spoke, it was with a single word that worried Aurora.


    ¡°War.¡± The woman¡¯s voice came through the car speakers. It was gentle and probing.


    Shield never called her by her Oath ever since she¡¯d lost her Oath, or given it up, as Dorthna liked to point out.


    Aurora couldn¡¯t hold back her sigh. ¡°It has to be bad if you¡¯re calling me ¡®War,¡¯ Ruth.¡±


    Silence followed once more.


    ¡°In simple terms,¡± Aurora said, already losing her patience, ¡°if you won¡¯t talk, I¡¯m hanging up. I¡¯ve got things on my mind.¡±


    ¡°Your background sounds odd,¡± Ruth said. ¡°Are you in a car?¡±


    Aurora¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Yes? Why?¡±


    ¡°Are you alone?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Are you¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ruth, we are not playing this game,¡± Aurora interrupted her. ¡°That was the last answer you will get from me when I ask you a question and you don¡¯t reply. This is, at best, a conversation, not an interrogation.¡±


    Aurora took a hand from the steering wheel to pinch the bridge of her nose. Since she¡¯d stopped being an Oath, she¡¯d only had a few conversations with other Oaths, bits and pieces to be precise. If there was one thing she¡¯d learnt from those conversations, it was that if she didn¡¯t put her foot down, they would talk to her like it was an honor for her to talk to them and a right for them to talk to her.


    Ruth would railroad this as some kind of military briefing and not a conversation if she allowed her.


    A small smirk touched Aurora¡¯s lips when she remembered the time she¡¯d hung up on the Oath of Pain simply because he wasn¡¯t listening. From what the Oath of Grace had told her later on, the man had lost his mind so terribly that he¡¯d sworn to inflict her with so much pain that she¡¯d wish she was dead.


    He clearly hadn¡¯t, and he clearly wouldn¡¯t have. He¡¯d just been throwing a childish tantrum.


    ¡°What do you want, Ruth?¡± Aurora asked when she realized that the woman was still silent on the other end.


    It took only a moment before the Oath of Shield answered. ¡°I need your help.¡±


    ¡°With what?¡±


    ¡°I got into a bit of trouble with another Oath. Are you home?¡±


    ¡°Not yet,¡± Aurora answered. ¡°Didn¡¯t get to finish my Delve when I was yanked out. Never happened before. So I¡¯m currently on my way home.¡±


    She would¡¯ve asked if Shield had experienced it, too, or ever, but she didn¡¯t have to. All the Oaths knew that Shield never went into portals. Before being an Oath, she¡¯d gone into a lot of portals, but not anymore.


    There was no traumatic experience that stopped her or anything in that direction. It was simply a thing that came with her Oath-hood. Since becoming the Oath of Shield, she could no longer enter a portal.


    It was one of those Oath things that there was no reason to fight, unlike David¡¯s impulses to smash in someone¡¯s head or rip off a steering wheel while driving for reasons only the mad would understand.


    In summary, from what Aurora knew, a shield was meant to defend its owner. The Oath of Shield was meant to defend her world. And in her case, a good offense was not a good defense. A good defense was a good defense. So, she was, in a manner, ultimately bound to the world.


    She never entered portals, but you could be sure to see her in any Chaos Run that was the result of a failed powerful portal.


    ¡°Ruth,¡± Aurora repeated with a sigh, ¡°this conversation will not go anywhere if you do not get to the point."


    ¡°I¡¯m wondering how best to get to the point,¡± Ruth muttered.


    ¡°If it¡¯s an Oath issue that you feel you shouldn¡¯t share because I¡¯m not an Oath, then I think you dialed the wrong number.¡± Aurora pulled the car to a stop at a red light.


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Ruth said before another pause. ¡°Is this line encrypted?¡±


    Aurora almost threw a fit. Does she think I became stupid because I stopped being an Oath?


    ¡°Do you honestly think I¡¯ll be talking so freely about Oaths if it wasn¡¯t?¡± she asked.


    Another moment of silence. ¡°Good point.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re stalling,¡± Aurora said. ¡°Which means that either what you did was very stupid, very terrible, or has something to do with me.¡±


    As her words left her lips, a frown touched them. Aurora had a bad feeling about this all of a sudden.


    ¡°It has something to do with me, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    David had always been good at reading people. He could spot a lie eight words into a sentence. Then his Oath-hood enhanced that by giving him the ability to spot the dissonance in a person, making him the perfect lie detector.


    While Aurora wasn¡¯t so blessed, she¡¯d lived long enough to know when there was a problem.


    ¡°What did you do, Ruth?¡±


    ¡°Nothing the Oath of Shield should not have,¡± Ruth answered, suddenly defiant.


    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that,¡± Aurora said. ¡°But you and I both know that that¡¯s not what I asked. Tell me what you did or I¡¯m hanging up.¡±


    ¡°There was a problem,¡± Ruth started. ¡°Too many portals have been opening up recently. You know that. And then there¡¯s the unidentified creature that keeps coming out anytime an S-rank portal turns into a Chaos Run.¡±


    Aurora already had this piece of information. ¡°I already know this, what does it have to do with¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m getting there,¡± Ruth interrupted. ¡°If I¡¯m going to stand a chance of having you help, you¡¯ll need all the context I can give you.¡±


    Aurora snorted. ¡°You must¡¯ve royally fucked up.¡±


    ¡°You have no idea,¡± Ruth mumbled.


    ¡°Alright.¡± Aurora spotted a snack truck and wondered if the kids would be interested in some. She didn¡¯t stop, though. ¡°Give me context, Shield.¡±


    ¡°So while a Chaos Run isn¡¯t that big of a deal, there¡¯s a creature that keeps showing up in all of them,¡± Ruth continued.


    ¡°The one that comes out, looks around, then goes back in?¡± Aurora asked.


    ¡°That one.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the big deal about it?¡±


    ¡°Believe me when I say that it¡¯s a very big deal,¡± Ruth said. ¡°I was at one of the Chaos Runs before it came out. If there is one thing that I can say for certain, it¡¯s that I was happy when it went back in.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll all be happy.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t get it, Aurora. That¡­ thing¡­ it¡¯s not normal. When I met it, it walked out like it owned the place. It looked around like it was looking for something.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what it has been doing.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s not the problem. That thing was powerful, Aurora. Very powerful. And intelligent. I established my presence as an Oath--my dominance--when I saw it and it just spared me a glance. Its attention made me feel like a child.¡±


    Aurora shot her dashboard a worried look. Was that a tremor in her voice.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want that thing coming back here, Aurora,¡± Ruth continued. ¡°I don¡¯t know how many Oaths we would need to stop it. I don¡¯t even know if we can stop it.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± Aurora nodded. ¡°So that¡¯s context, what¡¯s the problem?¡±


    ¡°Because of that, I¡¯ve been working hand in hand with Inevitability and Grace to make sure that we have all the Oaths and Gifted stopping the necessary portals before they turn into Chaos Runs as quickly as possible.¡±


    Aurora fought back a groan as she turned onto another road. Context was annoying her right now. She just wanted to know what she was supposed to do so that she could say no and be done with it if it had nothing to do with her and her family.


    ¡°During these occurrences, Madness returned from his portal with his team,¡± Ruth was saying, ¡°and I went to meet him.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Personally? Why?¡±


    ¡°Because due to certain occurrences,¡± Ruth said, voice cautious and gentle, ¡°we believed that he might not be in a hurry to go into the next portal.¡±


    ¡°Was he injured?¡± Aurora asked. ¡°Did you send my injured husband into another portal, Shield?¡±


    Even as the words left her mouth, Aurora knew that that was not what had happened. Dorthna had confirmed that Madness was safe.


    Which meant that for some other reason apart from his health, David had decided not to go into another portal. That didn¡¯t make much sense.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Oaths went into portals. It was simply what it was. The embodiment of concepts of the world involved a certain level of attachment to the world. You protected what you were attached to.


    By God, Aurora had risked her children to protect the world. What could possibly keep David from¡­


    Melmarc who always picked his call wasn¡¯t picking his calls.


    ¡°Cut straight to the point, Shield,¡± Aurora bit out. ¡°Or so help me God I¡¯ll cut this call and actively work against you on whatever is going on.¡±


    ¡°I need you to understand that everything I do, I do for the greater good,¡± Ruth said quickly. ¡°You know this, War.¡±


    Aurora knew this but didn¡¯t care. She¡¯d already broken off the ¡®ten and two¡¯ of her steering wheel. The material had crumbled under the weight of her grip. Now she was holding on to a new ten and two.


    ¡°What. Did. You. Do?¡±


    ¡°A message came in for War before he stepped out of his portal.¡±


    Aurora rolled her eyes despite her anger. The private Oath hotline was not as private as Oaths were led to believe. Dark Mist, the Oath of Secrets, had been the very person who¡¯d designed it. And while he was very good at keeping secrets, he was just as good at collecting secrets.


    It hadn¡¯t taken long for a few Oaths to find out that there were people monitoring the lines. Aurora understood the necessity for it so she¡¯d never complained as long as it was used for good reasons.


    ¡°You guys listened in on the message left for my husband. And what did you do?¡±


    ¡°We put things in place to deal with the problem, the message told him about,¡± Ruth said. ¡°And I went to intercept him on his arrival so that he could get into the next portal without distractions.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that didn¡¯t go well. So tell me what you did.¡±


    Ruth was silent for a moment before she replied. ¡°I fought against your husband and his team, and lost.¡±


    Aurora gritted her teeth in anger, tried to control herself. ¡°Is my husband on the run, Ruth?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± Ruth answered. ¡°No one¡¯s heard from him or seen him or anyone in his team since the fight. Oaths are important, War. If we can just get your address, we can confirm that he¡¯s al¡ª¡±


    Aurora barked a derisory laugh. It was loud and full of mockery.


    ¡°And why would I possibly want to do that?¡± she asked. ¡°Use the one registered in the system.¡±


    ¡°We both know that the one registered is a lie,¡± Ruth said.


    Aurora could hear the frown in her voice.


    ¡°So, let me get this right,¡± she said, still laughing, because at this point it was ludicrous. ¡°You just made an enemy of my husband and want my help bringing him in.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ruth said quickly, too quickly. ¡°We want your help talking to him. Inevitability said that it would make more sense if I apologized to your husband.¡±


    ¡°Are you sorry, though?¡±


    There was a long delay before Ruth answered. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°So apologizing won¡¯t matter. My husband is all about the thought that counts and not the words or actions. He¡¯s sexy like that.¡± Aurora shook her head as she turned her steering wheel and almost missed it because she grabbed at one of the broken parts. She corrected the mistake just as quickly.


    ¡°So, in summary,¡± she continued. ¡°America just lost an Oath and an SS-rank Delver. Once I get home, My husband and I will be looking into one of the other countries that has been begging us to come to them.¡±


    ¡°War, don¡¯t do this.¡±


    ¡°Helping other countries will still be helping the world, though.¡± Aurora shrugged. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter where we are, as long as we¡¯re closing portals and stopping Chaos Runs.¡±


    ¡°War, please,¡± Ruth pleaded. She sounded very oddly desperate. ¡°I¡¯m not the only one that wants to talk to him. Inevitability also needs to talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Needs?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Inevitability had a good reputation with all the Oaths. It was the reason most of them listened to him. In fact, he was something of a pseudo leader. Why? Because whatever his Oath did to him, it made him very reasonable, very¡­ inevitable.


    If the Oaths were a group of very volatile and toxic friends¡ªwhich they kind of were¡ªthen he was the most reasonable one of them that had proved how reasonable he was time and time again. He was the only reason they remained friends.


    ¡°We still don¡¯t know how you did it, but you two are the only Oaths whose address no one can find,¡± Ruth said.


    ¡°Not that you all haven¡¯t tried,¡± Aurora pointed out, wondering what Inevitability wanted so desperately with David.


    ¡°We do it for safety and security reasons. You understood this once.¡±


    ¡°Not enough to give you my address, though. And I was War. No one understood the necessity as much as I did.¡±


    Ruth snorted. ¡°You only didn¡¯t because Secret knew your address.¡±


    ¡°He knew the general idea of where it was.¡± Aurora smirked. ¡°No one visits me unless a member of the family brings them. You¡¯ve been to my house before, after all. Isn¡¯t that right, Ruth?¡±


    At this point, she was looking for trouble. When silence came again, she knew it was because Ruth was comporting herself, controlling her anger.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you and Madness did, but it was enough to scare Secret straight even when he found out the general idea of where you were,¡± Ruth said, finally speaking. ¡°Whatever is capable of scaring Secret that much is always something to stay away from. That¡¯s why we never tried to look for it. I don¡¯t know what powers you and Madness acquired that makes everyone of us forget where you live once we are no longer in the house, but this is now more important than that.¡±


    You can thank Dorthna for that, Aurora thought. Even though whatever it was that he had done didn¡¯t work against [Intruders].


    Or [Players].


    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen.¡± Aurora wasn¡¯t very far from the state her home was in now.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me what you did to offend my husband,¡± Aurora said. ¡°Because offending the Oath of Madness isn¡¯t enough to get you this scared. I know he will want to come after you, and everyone knows that he listens to me. So, I promise to make sure your punishment will not be something too terrible.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about Madness, Aurora,¡± Shield snapped.


    Aurora let out a sigh. This was why the Oaths weren¡¯t good friends. She didn¡¯t know what it was about Oaths and terrible communication skills.


    You actually do, she rebutted.


    It was their different traits. Those Oath behaviors that they just couldn¡¯t shake. You didn¡¯t expect someone who lived their life full of love and affection and someone who lived their life full of war and hate to understand each other or get along easily. Especially when they were arguably ruled by the concept.


    ¡°I understand why you sound the way you sound, Shield,¡± Aurora said simply. ¡°But I¡¯m done talking with you because I can be done talking with you. You can keep your secrets. This call is over.¡±


    ¡°Aurora!¡± Shield protested.


    ¡°Have a nice day, Shield.¡±


    ¡°Aurora!¡±


    Aurora was about to cut the call when Shield¡¯s next words stopped her. The words were uttered so quickly that Aurora almost thought she¡¯d imagined them, but she knew that she had not. Shield¡¯s words were as clear as day.


    ¡°Your husband has found the [August Intruder]!¡±


    ¡°What the fuck did you just say?¡± she hissed.


    Ruth grumbled on the other side of the call. ¡°It¡¯s the truth.¡±


    If she was not in so much of a hurry to get home, Aurora would¡¯ve parked the car to catch her breath.


    ¡°Your husband is the one that found the long anticipated [August Intruder].¡±


    Aurora¡¯s hands tightened on the steering wheel and¡ª


    ¡°Fuck,¡± she cussed as two more sections of the wheel crumbled under her grip. Aren¡¯t steering wheels meant to be more malleable than this? What the hell?


    She was usually better at controlling her strength than this.


    ¡°Where did he find the [August Intruder]?¡± she asked, worried.


    The [August Intruder] was as much a good thing as it was a bad thing. The [August Intruder] was the herald of the apocalypse. From what all the Oaths knew, the apocalypse was inevitable. The world was going to experience it whether they liked it or not.


    The [August Intruder¡¯s] appearance was a terror because their arrival meant that the apocalypse was going to happen in their lifetime.


    Here was the problem, though. While the [August Intruder] was necessary in surviving the apocalypse, the death of the [August Intruder] did not stop, slow, or halt the apocalypse. And the [August Intruder] did not have to be alive for the apocalypse to happen.


    The concept of the apocalypse happening during their lifetime simply meant within the time period that they would naturally live.


    ¡°The apocalypse is coming,¡± Aurora found herself muttering.


    They had a hundred years, at best.


    ¡°Where did he find him, Ruth?¡± Aurora pressed. They needed to send all available forces to protect whoever the person was.


    ¡°In a portal,¡± Ruth said hesitantly. ¡°Off-world, at least.¡±


    Aurora ran her hand through her hair in frustrated confusion. ¡°I thought you said you couldn¡¯t get him to go into the next portal. Are you saying that that is the reason you intercepted him?¡± She frowned, shook her head. Something wasn¡¯t right. ¡°No, you intercepted him because of the message he got. Unless you¡¯re suddenly very good at lying, then it wasn¡¯t in the portal he came out of.¡±


    ¡°It was not.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re saying my husband went into another portal.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How do you even know that he¡¯s back, then?¡± Aurora asked. She already knew because Dorthna had said that David was safe.


    ¡°Because the [August Intruder] came back, too, and we can¡¯t find them.¡±


    ¡°That does not explain anything, Ruth.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Madness,¡± Ruth answered, as if it explained everything, which it actually did. ¡°I don¡¯t see him entering a portal, finding the [August Intruder], and sending them back without returning with them.¡±


    ¡°And how do you even know that the [August Intruder] is here? Do you guys have them already?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ruth said. ¡°We know because they¡¯ve already established dominance.¡±


    Well, that was stupid.


    Aurora paused. She could be wrong, though. The [August Intruder] was either very stupid or very confident.


    Every Oath was capable of establishing dominance. The way it worked was, in a manner of speaking, declaring your presence to all the strongest things in a specific area.


    With unintelligent monsters, the strongest would come charging at you. Those that were intelligent would gain a slight understanding of just how strong you are. It would not be a sure way of understanding how strong you are, but it gave a possible estimate.


    It was the reason Ruth was very worried when she¡¯d established her dominance with the creature that had been coming out of Chaos Runs and it had treated her as unimportant. It meant that it hadn¡¯t viewed her as a threat.


    But the area of reach wasn¡¯t that far, though.


    ¡°So, you were close to them?¡± Aurora asked, confused. ¡°Then they shouldn¡¯t be that far, though. Just how quickly did they escape?¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t close to them, Aurora,¡± Ruth said. ¡°Every Oath across the world that I¡¯ve spoken to was notified of their presence. They didn¡¯t establish dominance of an area. They established dominance of the world.¡±


    ¡°And nobody thought to challenge it?¡± she asked. ¡°Oaths do it all the time, challenging each other¡¯s dominance.¡±


    The [August Intruder] was long awaited, and they were meant to be very powerful. But it didn¡¯t mean that the Oaths were just going to sit back and accept a dictator and a tyrant.


    ¡°Within a specific area?¡± Ruth said.


    ¡°Oh.¡± It was all Aurora could say.


    Oaths had an area of reach. If you lived in a hotel and had an area of dominance that only extended to your room, how did you challenge the owner of the hotel?


    How do you challenge someone who¡¯s established dominance of the world when you can barely establish dominance as wide as a city?


    ¡°Inevitability already plans on sending a system message to the Oaths to call for a meeting,¡± Ruth explained. ¡°I planned on sorting my issue with Madness there if I can¡¯t do it before then. But that is if he attends. We need him to attend, and we need you to attend with him.¡±


    Aurora could understand that. Oaths could send system beacons with a very short message, which in her opinion seemed more like something designed for wide scale war scenarios than a communication tactic. And the handful of times that Inevitability had called for a meeting, she had been the one dragging David whenever he was more inclined to not attend, after quite the negotiation and luring.


    They would want her present because, in summary, she spoke David and Madness to a degree.


    But this conversation wasn¡¯t what was important.


    ¡°Hold up, how didn¡¯t you people sort out my husband¡¯s problem before he got out if you knew about it?¡± Aurora asked, discarding the [August Intruder]. She was not an Oath, so whoever it was was ultimately unimportant to her.


    ¡°Because he got to the portal before we could,¡± Ruth answered.


    ¡°He beat you to another portal.¡± Aurora¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°You said that there was a problem you were already working on, and you wanted my husband to go into another portal. But he refused and beat you to another portal.¡± She gritted her teeth as the pieces started falling into place. ¡°To solve the problem, you all had to enter another portal, a portal that you couldn¡¯t find immediately, for some reason. A portal that he found.¡±


    There was only one way that David would¡¯ve found a portal before them even when they had a head start. That was if someone was already working on it for him without having to be asked to.


    And with Aurora in a portal, there was only a handful of people that could make David move. Only a handful of people superseded the safety of the world to David, with the right reasons.


    And all of them technically lived in one place.


    Aurora¡¯s hand covered her mouth in terror as realization dawned on her. ¡°Oh God.¡±


    ¡°Aurora, I swear we didn¡¯t mean for any of it to happen,¡± Ruth said quickly. ¡°It just¡­¡±


    But Aurora wasn¡¯t listening to her anymore. In this moment, the [August Intruder] could fall in a ditch and break their neck for all she cared. She¡¯d never even liked the twerp to begin with. Their very existence had been more of a bad omen to her. Their existence meant that her children would have to live in a world that would potentially end. An apocalyptic world.


    And when she¡¯d given up her Oath, she¡¯d decided to have nothing to do with the [August Intruder] if they ever arrived in her lifetime.


    ¡°I swear to everything that lives, has ever lived, and will ever live, Ruth,¡± Aurora bit out in rage. ¡°If anything happened to my boy because of what you¡¯ve done, my husband will be the least of your worries. I will find you, and the things I will do to you will live on for centuries after me. In fact, the apocalypse will be the least of your worries¡­¡±


    ¡°War, you have to under¡ª¡±


    Aurora knew it was the Oath of Shield speaking right now and not Ruth, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to give a fuck.


    ¡°My husband and I will burn everything you know to the ground,¡± she said, cutting her off. ¡°And if we are not enough, we¡¯ll call in every favor we have. I will make it my life¡¯s duty to clean your name from the world. A shield that will sacrifice my son to protect this world is not a shield worth having around.¡±


    She cut the call before Ruth could say anything else.


    There was only one person that could be in trouble right now. The good news was that Ruth had helped her narrow down what the issue could be. She still worried about Melmarc, considering his phone still wasn¡¯t reachable, but it was more than possible that he¡¯d misplaced it or something.


    Right now, she had bigger issues to worry about. Issues far more important than the [August Intruder].


    She drove faster, as fast as the car could carry her. She passed stop signs and red lights, uncaring. Things had taken a very dark turn.


    She couldn¡¯t understand how a mentorship program could possibly have ended with her son in a portal. It made zero sense.


    Whoever was in charge that had been dumb enough to allow such a thing to happen needed to answer a lot of questions. Then again, she knew how her son could be. He was always adventurous, seeking out troubles he had no business seeking out.


    Still¡­


    There was a reason, the mentors were put in charge. Aurora¡¯s hand tightened on the steering wheel once more and she did her best to control herself. Driving home without a steering wheel was going to be vastly uncomfortable, and she could not afford any discomfort that would slow her down.


    Please be alright, Ark, she thought as she drove. Please be alright.


    ¡­


    Something tapped against Melmarc¡¯s foot, and his eyes snapped open immediately. Once upon a time he would¡¯ve grumbled a little, tossed around once or twice. Not anymore.


    His eyes snapped open and took in his entire surroundings. Or at least it tried to. Unfortunately, it snapped open to the sight of Spitfire staring him in the face.


    Its eyes, black and speckled like a starry night sky, stared at him.


    ¡°Too close,¡± Melmarc grumbled, groggy.


    Raising a hand, he gently placed it on Spitfire¡¯s head and pushed the demon to the side. It did not fight him.


    Only when he was done did he see Ark standing at his leg, giving him an odd look.


    ¡°What?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Ark¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Why are you sleeping on the floor?¡±

 NINETY-THREE: Red And Grey

    Bread tasted like bread. A part of Melmarc was disappointed to find out as he took another bite of his bread. He¡¯d been expecting things to be different, in a manner, even if a little bit. It felt like starving for so long and looking forward to eat an tire buffet just to get full after a few spoons.


    He placed his half eaten slice of bread on the small tray beside him and stared at the interface in front of him.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Call of The Wild (Mastery -08.19%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    [Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]


    Skills


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 19.99%)]


    The Gifted releases a burst of mana that comes back to them as information


    [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 16.84%)]


    Conclusion of skill Knowledge Is Power grants +1.5 increase to all stats for eight minutes and a potential status buff based on number of life forms detected.


    [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 19.93%)]


    The Gifted wraps a ring of pure raw mana around their body and can attack with it.


    [Secrecy (Mastery 14.61%)]


    The Gifted secures an area of their choice in a bubble of mana that traps sounds from escaping and obscures outside sight.


    Perks


    [Optimum Existence (03.19%)]


    The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.


    Stats


    [Agility 4, Balance 6, Mental 3, Mana 5, Strength 5, Dexterity 3, Accuracy 3, Speed 2]


    Traits


    [Calculating¡­]


    [Total EP 6503]


    ...


    [Dear Melmarc Jay Lockwood, you have a pending reward from your last personal quest.]


    [Pending reward: 5% Mastery]


    [Would you like to claim your reward?]


    [Y/N?]


    Melmarc felt underwhelmed by his stats. With all the things he had been through recently, it was easy to forget that his stats were actually normal for his class and rank, maybe a little above normal. Seeing the single digits, however, belittled it.


    A rank classes are the ones with double digit stats, he reminded himself.


    As for how he intended to use the reward, while Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure of what he wanted to use it on, he was certain of what he wasn¡¯t going to use it on.


    [Knowledge is Power] is out of the way, he thought. There was no point using the reward on it since it was just a step away from reaching twenty percent mastery.


    Not for the first time, he was impressed by his growth speed. Naymond did insinuate that I had a high growth potential.


    Melmarc also wasn¡¯t going to use the reward on [Rings of Saturn]. At least he didn¡¯t see any reason to. For one reason, it was in the same category as [Knowledge is Power]¡ªvery close to twenty percent. For another reason, the skill was still confusing him. He¡¯d raised it past ten percent and still hadn¡¯t gotten a skill evolution or an option for another skill.


    What if it doesn¡¯t evolve at all? He asked himself, frowning. That will just be stupid.


    He highly doubted it. It just didn¡¯t make sense to him. What was the point of a skill that didn¡¯t evolve?


    You have a skill that didn¡¯t evolve or give you an alternative at ten percent, he told himself. At this point, anything can happen.


    That much was true. At this point, he didn¡¯t know what rules still applied and what rules did not. He was also no longer simply a Gifted. He had perks now, something he¡¯d never heard of before. Then there was [EP]¡­


    And don¡¯t forget about your pending trait.


    Letting out a sigh, Melmarc moved through his interface, leaving the details pending. It took him only a moment to realize that there was no reason for him to scroll through his interface for what he wanted.


    He took another bite from his slice of bread, finishing the slice. Once he was done with that, he thought of his [EP] and its effects on his stats and mastery.


    A new notification popped up.


    [EP 6503]


    [1 stat point = 200 EP]


    [1% Mastery = 250 EP]


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed as his mind did the math. He had thirty-two stat points or twenty six percent of mastery to work with.


    It felt surreal.


    In the blink of an eye I can become very powerful.


    If he was to spread it between his current stats he would be able to have at least one stat in the double digits. As a new B-rank Gifted, he would be considered powerful.


    Or I could invest it into skill mastery. Melmarc rubbed his jaw in thought. Or split it between the two.


    Upping the mastery of his skills will also increase some of his stats as well as grant him points in new ones, but he wouldn¡¯t get to choose which ones. But did it really matter? What mattered was that he was getting stronger.


    Right?


    ¡°You look like someone who¡¯s wondering why their shit won¡¯t flush.¡±


    Melmarc was ripped from his revelry as a memory of when he had once experienced such a thing flashed through his head. It disrupted his thoughts very harshly.


    ¡°Shut up, Ark,¡± he muttered as he looked up at his brother.


    It was late into the morning, the afternoon growing ever closer. Melmarc was seated at the dining table with his empty plate that had once held his slices of bread in front of him. Beside the plate was a cup of cold beverage.


    Uncle Dorthna was seated in the living room not paying attention to whatever was showing on the television.


    Ark stood in front of Melmarc in a simple black vest that was a little too tight. He looked bigger now, muscular. Spitfire rested on top of his head, too big for it.


    Melmarc made a show of looking at the creature. ¡°Doesn¡¯t your neck hurt?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°Well,¡± Melmarc gestured at Spitfire. ¡°Spitfire¡¯s like twice its size, and it¡¯s wrapped itself up a little uncomfortably on your head.¡±


    Ark raised a finger to the demon and scratched it under the jaw. ¡°Are you uncomfortable?¡±


    Spitfire ignored him. It didn¡¯t even move its head to acknowledge the fact that he was scratching his jaw. Ark let out a sigh.


    ¡°I already explained why we couldn¡¯t go out,¡± he said in an apologetic tone. ¡°I promise we¡¯ll find the time to go out again. I want to go out too, you know.¡±


    Melmarc was confused. ¡°You want to go out? I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°Spitfire wanted to go out last night.¡± Ark dropped his hand to return his attention to Melmarc, moving one of the dining chairs so that he could sit down. ¡°I couldn¡¯t just up and leave the house, so now he¡¯s grumbling.¡±


    Once upon a time, Ark spoke to Spitfire like someone talking to a pet. Now he talked to it as if it actually understood him, in a normal voice and no exaggerated inflections.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know if he was supposed to be bothered by it or not.


    ¡°Also,¡± Ark added, reaching for the cup on the table and Melmarc let him take it. Ark took a sip then frowned. ¡°Too sweet. As I was saying. Uncle Dorthna said I shouldn¡¯t always give him what he wants, so here we are.¡±


    Spitfire vibrated very slightly and briefly on top of Melmarc. The action was clearly one of disagreement and displeasure. It was¡ª


    Melmarc froze.


    His eyes narrowed on Spitfire and Ark¡¯s narrowed on him.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Ark asked, taking another sip of the too sweet beverage and frowned once more. ¡°You look¡­ confused and worried.¡±


    ¡°Spitfire actually understands you,¡± Melmarc said, matter of fact.


    More important was the fact that he¡¯d been able to read its expression, find meaning in its action with complete certainty.


    Like with Veebee.


    ¡°I know.¡± Ark nodded. ¡°Why else will I be talking to it?¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow. ¡°People talk to their dogs, Ark.¡±


    Spitfire¡¯s head snapped up and its eyes sharpened on Melmarc. He sensed a threat in them, a threat born from annoyance instead of anger. It felt harmless, though, like a child suddenly annoyed by something their uncle or aunty said.


    Curious, Melmarc met its gaze. If it truly understood him, then it was probably offended by what he had said. However, he was curious about the threat. How would it react to him not backing down.


    Spitfire¡¯s annoyance switched to sadness, and Melmarc suddenly felt bad about what he¡¯d said. It placed its head back on its arms, turning its attention away from Melmarc.


    Melmarc let out a sigh. Nothing had ever annoyed Veebee. At best, it always seemed very curious about anything he did.


    And Spitfire is not Veebee. You were also nicer to Veebee.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said.


    Ark shrugged. ¡°It happens, though, so I don¡¯t really mind.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°People thinking of Spitfire as something of a pet,¡± Ark said.


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°Hold up, who said I was apologizing to you? I was talking to Spitfire.¡±


    Ark looked at him through narrowed lids. ¡°Really?¡± His expression turned puzzled and he reached up to place a hand on the demon¡¯s head. After a second or two, he brought his hand back down. ¡°Spitfire says go fuck yourself.¡±


    ¡°Spitfire did not say that.¡±


    Ark smirked. ¡°Trust me, he did. He¡¯s got quite the array of cuss words that you wouldn¡¯t believe.¡±


    Melmarc paused. What were the chances that Ark wasn¡¯t actually pulling his legs? But if Spitfire could speak telepathically¡ªbecause that was the only possibility he could see right now¡ªthen how long had Ark had its voice in his head.


    A wrinkle creased Melmarc¡¯s forehead as he thought about it. Also, what kind of things did Spitfire actually say? Apart from the cuss words, obviously.


    Did it give Ark important pieces of information?


    Did it¡ª


    ¡°The thing can¡¯t speak,¡± Dorthna¡¯s voice came from the living room, abrupt and simple. ¡°Stop trying to confuse your brother, Ark.¡±


    Melmarc frowned.


    ¡°In my defense,¡± Ark said, ¡°it was just too easy.¡±


    Wait, he was lying? Melmarc thought, confused. How?


    ¡°Ark.¡±


    Ark¡¯s attention returned to him. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Lie to me.¡±


    ¡°Uhm¡­¡± Ark looked confused. ¡°Why? Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯ll always be happy to lie to you. Just want to know what¡¯s special about this one.¡±


    ¡°Just lie to me.¡±


    ¡°The sky is pink.¡±


    Dissonant.


    There it was. The skill was still working, whatever it was. It left Melmarc confused as to how Ark had lied about Spitfire being able to talk without triggering the skill.


    Dorthna walked into the dining area. ¡°I see you¡¯ve got your dad¡¯s trait.¡±


    Ark looked at him. ¡°Dad¡¯s trait? What¡¯s that?¡±


    Dorthna didn¡¯t answer him, instead, he tilted his head to the side in contemplation. ¡°Any idea how much of it you have, Mel?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure I know what you mean.¡±


    ¡°Have new things been happening to you since you entered the portal or since your father found you?¡± Dorthna pulled a chair out and sat on it. He was positioned on the other end of the table, directly opposite Melmarc.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°I can tell when a person is lying,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Is that what you¡¯re talking about?¡±


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± Dorthna answered.


    Ark looked between the both of them. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Dorthna explained, ¡°because that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about. No, because Mel can¡¯t tell when a person is lying.¡±


    Melmarc had always suspected that that was the case, but it was just easier to think of it as someone lying.


    ¡°What you can do,¡± Dorthna continued, ¡°is detect disharmony or dissonance. If Ark had said that the sky was blue but believed that it was pink, your trait would still flag it.¡±


    ¡°So dad can¡¯t tell when you¡¯re lying?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Oh, your dad definitely can,¡± Dorthna chuckled. ¡°He¡¯s been mad for so long that he can tell when something as insignificant as a fly is lying.¡±


    Ark laughed. ¡°The exaggeration is strong. Dad must be really good, then.¡±


    Melmarc gave him a look. It wasn¡¯t as if they didn¡¯t know that their dad could tell when someone was lying. It had taken them a lot of lies growing up to know that their dad was not the parent you lied to.


    Dorthna shook his head at Ark . ¡°No exaggeration, kid. Your dad can tell when a fly is lying. And believe me, flies lie. Everything has harmony, and any form of disharmony, intentional or unintentional is something your dad can tell.¡±


    ¡°So, if Ark says the sky is blue but he believes that it¡¯s pink what happens with dad?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Uncle Dorthna stretched and took Melmarc¡¯s cup from where it was in front of Ark. He tilted it towards him ever so slightly.


    ¡°It¡¯s cold chocolate,¡± Ark said.


    Uncle Dorthna left the cup with a frown. The only thing they¡¯d ever seen their uncle drink was cold or hot water. Nothing else.


    ¡°Your dad will be able to tell that Ark believes that the sky is pink but the sky is actually blue,¡± Dorthna said, returning to their conversation. ¡°It¡¯s still disharmony, just on a grander scale than you¡¯re capable of. If you¡¯re learning two plus two, that level of disharmony is two square minus four square.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc paused. ¡°Wait, why are you telling us this now?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Ark rubbed his jaw in thought. ¡°You¡¯re right, Mel. Uncle Dorthna, you never tell us anything about mom or dad that doesn¡¯t have anything to do with them being our parents. You say nothing about their jobs or what their classes are. The other day I asked you about their rank and you said, and I quote, ¡®It¡¯s none of my business.¡¯¡±


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Because it¡¯s none of my business. Anyway¡­¡± he returned his attention to Melamarc. ¡°The reason you couldn¡¯t tell he was lying was because I don¡¯t think you can notice intent of disharmony.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Dorthna looked at Spitfire but spoke to him. ¡°It¡¯s when someone uses the truth of a situation to reply another situation simply because of the existent disharmony.¡±


    ¡°So, he¡¯s not necessarily lying,¡± Melmarc said slowly, his mind piecing it together. ¡°He¡¯s just generalizing and living me to make my assumptions?¡±


    Dorthna made a surprised face, grunting in surprise as well. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you got that.¡±


    ¡°Mel¡¯s only a little stupid when it comes to math,¡± Ark joked.


    He wasn¡¯t entirely wrong, though. Melmarc hated calculations.


    ¡°So, Spitfire does talk to him somehow,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Just not verbally, like I thought.¡±


    Dorthna tapped a finger against the wooden table. ¡°Bingo. It talks to him telepathically. Do you know any being that talks telepathically? Without moving its mouth.¡±


    Melmarc only needed a moment to think before a name came to mind. Veebee?


    ¡°And don¡¯t lie,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°I¡¯m not a fan of it, and I can spot it almost as easily as your dad.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed in surprise. He¡¯s like dad.


    ¡°I am not like your father,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°I¡¯m not mad.¡±


    ¡°Dad¡¯s really not mad, though,¡± Ark said. ¡°Just¡­ different.¡±


    Dorthna raised a quizzical brow. ¡°Your dad is the Oath of Madness. Trust me, he¡¯s mad. And it¡¯s not an insult.¡±


    Melmarc thought about how his mind worked when he had been in the portal and how chaotic it had always been.


    If my mind was like that all the time, I¡¯d run mad.


    ¡°Back to you, Mel. Any creature come to mind?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I met one in the portal. It called itself a Void-beast.¡±


    ¡°What language is that?¡± Ark asked suddenly. ¡°Are you learning something African or Asian? Wait, is it an [August Intruder] thing?¡±


    ¡°Hush,¡± Uncle Dorthna shushed him, growing thoughtful. ¡°Well, I¡¯m guessing that was stupid of it. But that also explains the speed.¡±


    ¡°The speed?¡± Melmarc was confused.


    ¡°The speed,¡± Uncle Dorthna said with a nod. ¡°You became an [August Intruder] too quickly.¡±


    ¡°You knew I was going to become one?¡± Melmarc asked surprised.


    Dorthna shrugged as if it wasn¡¯t a big deal. ¡°You met the criteria at some point. I figured it was inevitable.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so there¡¯s an actual way to become an [August Intruder]?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Dorthna paused. ¡°Well, there are actually two ways to become one. The rarer of both ways is to be born that way. You were not born that way. You got the second method, which is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Melmarc interrupted politely. ¡°Are you sure you should be telling me?¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Dorthna laughed. ¡°Make more of you?¡±


    ¡°Still here,¡± Ark interjected. Spitfire couldn¡¯t be bothered on top of his head. ¡°Still don¡¯t understand anything you guys are saying.¡±


    Dorthna paused to give him a thoughtful look before letting out a sigh. ¡°I guess it won¡¯t hurt for you to be a part of this conversation.¡± He made a vague gesture with his hand. ¡°I¡¯ve always found some of these pesky little things to be annoying. Now the second way to become an [August Intruder] is¡ªdid you get that?¡±


    Ark nodded with a smile.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°You can just do that? It¡¯s that easy?¡±


    Dorthna snapped his finger at him. ¡°Pay attention to the important thing, Mel. As I was saying, the second way to become an [August Intruder] is to gain a few achievements, which you did. The first is to assimilate with mana from another world separate from yours. The second is to assimilate with raw mana and the third is to become a Gifted. You, dear boy, basically lucked out.¡±


    Melmarc was a little confused. ¡°Sounds simple enough, though.¡±


    ¡°Simple?¡± Dorthna chuckled. ¡°You have no idea how close you were to dying.¡±


    ¡°But there are already people with contaminated skills, though,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°You said so yourself.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but they did not perfectly assimilate with the contaminated mana. Honestly, nine point five out of ten people die assimilating mana from another world.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Ark barked in entertainment. ¡°He called you half a person.¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s eyes slid over to Ark. ¡°Ark.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Uncle D?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t make fun of your brother. That¡¯s not a nice thing to do to your host as a guest.¡± Dorthna turned his attention back to Melmarc. ¡°As I was saying, you were lucky to assimilate not just external mana but raw mana at the same time. The moment you were offered a class, I knew it was inevitable. Then you got the world buffs.¡±


    Melmarc remembered how Uncle Dorthna had stopped him from saying that he¡¯d gotten the [Intruder] debuff when he¡¯d chosen his class. ¡°Is that why you didn¡¯t want me to mention the [Intruder] debuff when I got my class? You didn¡¯t want the others to know?¡±


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    ¡°I just thought that you didn¡¯t trust my friends,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°I thought you felt that they¡¯d turn me in because they¡¯ll mistake me for an actual intruder.¡±


    ¡°That was the reason,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°Now, usually, when an [August Intruder] takes your route, it usually takes them at least fifteen years to actually become an [August Intruder]. Your foolish Void-beast sped up the process. Personally, it shouldn¡¯t have done that.¡±


    Generally, Melmarc thought Veebee was nice. A little different¡ªa lot different¡ªbut nice.


    ¡°Will that cause a problem?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°Speeding it up, I mean.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna nodded. ¡°If you became a Delver and actually grew, then your growth would¡¯ve been the catalyst to attaining the [August Intruder] status. I¡¯m guessing you¡¯d have been an S-rank Gifted by then, at least.¡±


    ¡°Woah,¡± Ark whistled. ¡°So your Unranked growth potential is actually that high? I¡¯m guessing S-rank.¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°It probably isn¡¯t,¡± Dorthna disagreed. ¡°What¡¯s your highest mastery right now?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to think to answer. ¡°Nineteen.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s in less than two months.¡± Dorthna nodded as if he¡¯d expected it. ¡°You¡¯re probably a SS-rank growth potential. Either that or you¡¯re¡­¡±


    Their uncle frowned but didn¡¯t finish his sentence.


    ¡°Or he is?¡± Ark probed.


    Uncle Dorthna waved him aside. ¡°It¡¯s not really important. Also, that¡¯s the one thing you both do not need to know. Anyway, that¡¯s where we¡¯re at. Any questions?¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Ark asked, surprised. ¡°We get to ask questions on this?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t want to?¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not it,¡± Ark replied quickly. ¡°It¡¯s just that you usually like to dance around questions concerning the Gifted. And you¡¯re usually kind of vague when you answer. This already felt like Christmas.¡±


    Melmarc moved his attention to Ark. He had a question for his brother.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you surprised about the whole other world thing?¡± he asked.


    Ark shrugged. ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s got a demon on his head,¡± Uncle Dorthna pointed out. ¡°I would be worried if he didn¡¯t already accept the idea of other worlds. Besides, you guys know about Players. It¡¯s not really a far stretch to other worlds being real.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s fist clenched at the mention of Players. His mind went to the Player in the other world Veebee had taken him to.


    Norman.


    He would never forget the name.


    ¡°You said he was my host and I¡¯m his guest,¡± Ark said. ¡°How does that work?¡±


    ¡°Spitfire over there has made you a citizen of another world,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°Personally, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a big deal. Meanwhile, your brother here has done the daring thing of claiming ownership of this world, despite how weak he is¡­¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that would happen,¡± Melmarc muttered.


    ¡°Which makes the Void-beast that did this to you stupider than I thought.¡± Dorthna sighed. ¡°That was basically the first thing it should have told you. You don¡¯t do what you did here on another world or your world, unless you are ready to be challenged.¡±


    Melmarc froze. ¡°Challenged?¡±


    ¡°Well, not officially,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Only another being like you can challenge you officially. But I¡¯m talking about powerful people. Not all the powerful people on your world will be happy to find out about you. Not all of them will be friendly.¡±


    ¡°Your world?¡± Ark said, jumping on the words like a dog with a bone. ¡°You¡¯re not from here?¡±


    ¡°I thought that was already self-explanatory.¡± Dorthna folded his arms over his chest, leaned back on his chair and gave Ark a pointed look. ¡°Technically, you are no longer from here, either.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Melmarc found it a little disconcerting to wrap his head around the fact that his brother was no longer from his world.


    ¡°So what world is he from?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Some demon world out there in the cosmos, I guess,¡± Dorthna answered as if it wasn¡¯t a big deal. ¡°I¡¯m surprised your friend hasn¡¯t taken you there, yet.¡±


    Ark¡¯s eyes moved up in their socket as if trying to look at Spitfire without tilting his head. The demon gave no reaction.


    ¡°It¡¯s a bit tight-lipped about that,¡± he said after a while.


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Probably ran away from home. Anyway, don¡¯t feel bad. While your kind is rarer than Melmarc¡¯s, you people don¡¯t really interest me. You¡¯re only rare because of how few demons are in the wider scale of things.¡±


    Ark frowned, then smiled as if he¡¯d just lost his mind. Then he chuckled a little.


    ¡°What?¡± Melmarc asked him.


    ¡°I just find it funny, that¡¯s all,¡± Ark answered, still chuckling. ¡°Last year we were completely¡­ relatively normal kids. Now we¡¯re talking about worlds and runaway demons and an uncle that¡¯s not from this world. The only thing that can top that is if it turns out that Uncle Dorthna¡¯s God.¡±


    The moment the words left his mouth silence fell over the entire area.


    Melmarc and his brother looked at their uncle.


    Uncle Dorthna met their gazes with the most worried expression.


    ¡°Uncle D.¡± Melmarc said the words slowly, paying complete attention to his uncle¡¯s every expression.


    ¡°No,¡± Dorthna said. It sounded like a warning.


    Melmarc disobeyed the warning. ¡°Are you God?¡±


    Dorthna executed the most perfect facepalm Melmarc had ever seen. ¡°Of course, kiddo. I¡¯m God. And you two are my most special being, that¡¯s why I descended from heaven to come and live with you.¡±


    Ark laughed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare laugh at your God,¡± Dorthna said lazily. ¡°How do I explain to the angels that my special creations are laughing at me when I return home. You do know that I go back to heaven whenever your parents come back, right?¡±


    He sounded very sarcastic, but Melmarc couldn¡¯t ignore the fact that there was no voice in his head calling out any dissonance.


    His worry must¡¯ve shown on his face because Dorthna suddenly looked at him and sighed.


    ¡°It¡¯s sarcasm, Mel,¡± he said. ¡°I swear, depending so much on that trait of disharmony is going to have you jumping at ghosts when you meet really powerful people.¡±


    ¡°Like SS-ranks,¡± Ark said, smug. ¡°Because it¡¯s inevitable at this point. Well, unless one of us dies early.¡±


    Dorthna snorted. ¡°SS-ranks? Please. At this rate you¡¯ll be dealing with far more powerful things than that in a few years.¡±


    ¡°More powerful than SS-ranks?¡± Ark asked, excited. ¡°Cool.¡±


    ¡°[Nenits]?¡± Melmarc asked before he could stop himself.


    Dorthna snorted. ¡°If you ever find yourself in a situation where you have to fight one of those things, then you¡¯re stupid.¡±


    ¡°What are [Nenits]?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°Not important to you¡­ yet.¡± Dorthna turned thoughtful. ¡°They will be, though. Seeing the path you¡¯re taking, you¡¯ll have to fight them eventually.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Because demons are their natural enemies.¡±


    ¡°What of Void-beasts?¡±


    ¡°Those ones don¡¯t mind,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°All Void-beasts are just looking for a way to attain sapience. To evolve.¡±


    That surprised Melmarc. From how Veebee always looked down on sentient creatures, he¡¯d thought it was a sapient creature.


    ¡°And how can they do that?¡± he asked.


    Dorthna¡¯s eye lids narrowed. ¡°You¡¯ve grown attached to the one you met, haven¡¯t you?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s first response was to lie but he stopped himself. He wasn¡¯t really one to lie to Dorthna.


    ¡°A little,¡± he said. ¡°It seemed nice.¡±


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°Alright, time for some lessons. Void-beast 101. A Void-beast is never nice. They do not have emotions. Even their condescension is not an emotion. They simply look down on things and that is how it is. The emotions they show are simply imitations of the emotions they¡¯ve seen or are currently seeing. They also do not like you. If they help you, it¡¯s because they have what they want from you. Got it?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°As for how they can evolve,¡± Dorthna added. ¡°It¡¯s by binding themselves to a sapient being. They are sapient as long as they are bound to someone sapient.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Melmarc asked, curious.


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°When they were procreated, their [Creator] just made them that way.¡±


    ¡°Procreated?¡± Ark asked. ¡°You mean people smashed to make them.¡±


    ¡°No. And gross.¡± Dorthna sighed. He was clearly growing frustrated. ¡°I knew I shouldn¡¯t have asked if you had any questions. In the wider existence, procreation isn¡¯t necessarily giving birth. Out there, among more powerful people, to procreate means to create something through the help of existence. Humans and other things give birth as an imitation to procreation.¡±


    ¡°Then who was the first procreator?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°You know what?¡± Dorthna said suddenly. ¡°That¡¯s going to be the last question. I ain¡¯t answering anymore questions after that.¡±


    Ark shrugged, ever ready to not have answers as much as he was to have answers. Sometimes Melmarc wondered how he did it. Simply willing to go through life without answers.


    I¡¯d lose my mind.


    Melmarc remembered something suddenly and objected to Dorthna¡¯s words quickly. ¡°How about one more question after that one?¡±


    Dorthna frowned but conceded with a nod. ¡°The first procreators were Sapient beings. And I¡¯m not explaining what Sapient beings are because I know for a fact that you know what they are, and Ark either knows or he can get the answers from his friend over there.¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°I know what they are.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now, as I was saying. Sapient beings are the first sapient creatures to walk within existence. The first truly intelligent creatures. And unlike your religions would have you believe, they were made. Sentient beings are the result of animal adaptation.¡±


    ¡°The theory of evolution,¡± Melmarc muttered.


    ¡°A watered down way of explaining it,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°But yes. The first Sapient being was human, so it¡¯s really no surprise that your kind always wants to believe that they are at the top of the food chain. It¡¯s probably some genetic nonsense.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Ark said, confused. ¡°You¡¯re not human?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have any more questions left,¡± Dorthna said.


    ¡°But Mel¡¯s been the one asking questions all this time,¡± Ark complained.


    ¡°Because he¡¯s naturally curious and he doesn¡¯t have a demon to answer all his questions.¡±


    ¡°But he has a void-beast.¡±


    Dorthna gestured around them. ¡°Do you see his void-beast anywhere?¡±


    Ark shrugged and folded his arms, saying nothing more. Melmarc, on the other hand, bit down on his words. Now he had two other questions he wanted to ask instead of one.


    Opportunity cost, he told himself. Which one is more important?


    ¡°So that¡¯s it,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°One of the first Sapient beings grew powerful enough to procreate and created void-beasts, amongst other things. Next question.¡±


    Ark perked up suddenly.


    ¡°Again,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°You don¡¯t get any questions.¡±


    ¡°I smell favoritism,¡± Ark pointed out. ¡°But not that. I think mom¡¯s back.¡±


    ¡°She is,¡± Dorthna said casually. ¡°She just pulled into the street.¡±


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t sensed anything or heard anything.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be able to do that eventually,¡± Dorthna told him, reading his expression. ¡°Like I said, you¡¯re technically too weak to be an [August Intruder], so don¡¯t sweat it. Next question before your mom gets in or your dad decides to leave his room and come down for some confusing reason.¡±


    Their dad rarely left his room unless their mother was around. As children, if their mother wasn¡¯t around, they went to their parents¡¯ room whenever they wanted to spend time with their dad. On very rare occasions, he came down for¡ªas Dorthna had put it¡ªvery confused reasons.


    Melmarc remembered how their dad had come down once upon a time just to turn the television on and return to the room.


    Now that he knew more about their dad, a lot of things he did made sense.


    ¡°When I was in the portal,¡± Melmarc said slowly. ¡°I used my skill on the demi-god¡ª¡±


    ¡°You fought a demi-god?¡± Ark asked. ¡°What was it like? Was it strong?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s mood dampened. ¡°It killed two people.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Melmarc knew that that didn¡¯t really answer Ark¡¯s question, but he was happy when his brother didn¡¯t press the matter. He didn¡¯t want to talk about it right now.


    Dorthna, however, gave Ark a curious look. ¡°Interesting,¡± he mused. ¡°I expected you to push a little more.¡±


    ¡°I want to,¡± Ark said, shrugging. ¡°But he clearly doesn¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± His lips stretched in a mischievous smile. ¡°Yet.¡±


    ¡°Your level of nonchalance is either very high or your relationship with your brother is very strong,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°So, about the demi-god. You said you used your skill on it.¡±


    ¡°Yes, the one that helps me tell friend from foe,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Red means foe. Green means friend. Grey means indifferent.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°It was grey and red.¡±


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°If you make me say ¡®and¡¯ one more time, Mel, I¡¯m going to start playing my shows on the highest volume.¡±


    Ark shivered visibly. ¡°Please don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°When I used the skill on you after coming back from the field trip from school,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°You were also grey and red.¡±


    He hadn¡¯t wanted to approach the subject, but Melmarc felt like it was important. And with everything that was happening, he was beginning to think it was the right feeling.


    His ears perked up as he heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It was followed by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.


    ¡°He hears his wife and just jumps to it,¡± Dorthna muttered, getting up from his chair. ¡°Your question, Mel. You¡¯re running out of time.¡±


    ¡°Are you a demi-god?¡± Melmarc blurted.


    Ark had also gotten up. ¡°Mom¡¯s back,¡± he said.


    Dorthna thumbed towards the entrance to the house. ¡°Go greet her.¡±


    ¡°And miss your answer?¡± Ark scoffed. ¡°Not a chance in the world.¡±


    Dorthna shook his head but was smiling. ¡°I¡¯m not a demi-god, Mel. But I will explain why you got that when you used it on the demi-god. There are curses in the universe, and one forces you to die twice. One is the death of your sentience and the other is the death of your sapience¡ªand no, I will not explain what that means¡ªeverything that has lost its sentience will appear like that to you. Now, run along and make your mom happy to see you. She¡¯s very worried right now.¡±


    ¡°Well, that was anti-climactic,¡± Ark grumbled, leaving them.


    He placed Spitfire on the floor and the demon scurried off into the kitchen before he made his way into the living room and towards the entrance.


    Dorthna turned and was leaving when Melmarc finally got up. It was so abrupt that Dorthan stopped to look back.


    ¡°There¡¯s a question you didn¡¯t answer,¡± Melmarc said.


    Dorthna¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to ask it, but his curiosity refused to let him leave it be. It was just who he was. Answers were important to him.


    According to his mother, he¡¯d once been asked what he wished for on his birthday and his response had been answers to questions asked and unasked.


    So, here he was, pressing the issue.


    ¡°Are you God?¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s face hardened suddenly. It lasted for only a moment before it relaxed.


    ¡°You have upgrades to do to you class and skills, Mel,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯d advise you to wait for your mom and dad. Usually, I¡¯d say make your own decisions on the matter, but you¡¯re in a position where their help will be invaluable to you. Wait for them. The both of them.¡±


    Melmarc deflated a little. It was not an answer. ¡°Thanks, Uncle D.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± Dorthna turned away, stopped, then sighed. ¡°Mel.¡±


    Melmarc perked up. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°If you learn nothing from me,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Learn this: There is no God.¡±


    Melmarc waited as Dorthna turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the dining area. He waited another second, then two.


    Dissonant.

 NINETY-FOUR: Dying Light

    Dorthna had died once. That was what Melmarc had gotten from his uncle¡¯s answer regarding the reason his indicator was red and grey instead of just one color like every other persons.


    I had to kill Caldath twice, he thought as he approached the front door. Did someone have to kill him once?


    Everyone else was already outside, apart from Spitfire who was in the kitchen doing whatever it was doing.


    Melmarc opened the door and closed it behind him. His parents had an obsession with never leaving a door open unless there were more people walking through it behind you. It was an obsession he had inherited from them through nurture.


    A vehicle Melmarc didn¡¯t recognize sat idly in the driveway. But the moment Melmarc closed the door behind him, the door to the driver¡¯s seat opened and his mother stepped out with a worried look on her face.


    He was the first person her eyes settled on when she stepped out of the car and Melmarc watched relief wash through her worried expression. Her attention moved over to Ark next and all forms of worry was gone. A smile touched her face. Her relief was palpable. It didn¡¯t take much for Melmarc to realize that she had been terrified only a moment ago, not just worried.


    When her gaze moved to their father and his very stoic expression, she lit up. It was always something about their mom. All his life, she always looked elated to see their father, even though there was nothing on the man¡¯s face that was supposed to induce such a feeling.


    Melmarc had times when he was happy to see his father¡¯s stoic expression, but he doubted he¡¯d ever felt anything outside of simple happiness or an extreme sense of safety.


    Elation was definitely never on the table for him.


    Despite her expression still being fixed on their father, their mother walked up to Ark and reached up to grab his face.


    Ark bent forward as she approached him, lowered his head so that she could reach his face without any strain. She took his face in both hands and lowered him some more so that their faces met. She was no longer looking at their father now.


    ¡°How are you?¡± she asked him, here eyes searching his. ¡°Are you fine?¡±


    Her words were a bit rushed, but anyone listening could tell that she was doing her best to keep her tone calm and casual. She was trying to hide her worries. She was doing it poorly.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, mom,¡± Ark said, smiling. ¡°You should see the bull.¡±


    Their mother paused for a moment, confused. ¡°What bull?¡±


    ¡°The one in the video.¡±


    Her brows furrowed, her confusion deepened. ¡°What video?¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t see the video?¡± this time it was Ark¡¯s turn to be confused.


    ¡°There¡¯s a video of you doing something reckless?¡± their mother scowled suddenly and Ark gulped.


    ¡°Did I say video?¡± he said shifty. ¡°I meant a video game. I¡¯ve started streaming online.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to your mother,¡± their father said from where he was standing casually with arms folded over his shoulder.


    Their mother¡¯s gaze moved to their father, but she still held Ark¡¯s face in both hands.


    ¡°You¡¯ve seen this video, babe?¡± she asked.


    Their father shook his head.


    ¡°But you were there when it happened?¡± she asked.


    Again, their father shook his head.


    Dorthna stood casually beside Melmarc and their mother was yet to acknowledge his presence.


    As for their mother, she shook her head as if dispelling an unimportant thought.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she said. ¡°What matters is that you¡¯re fine. You went into a portal and came out fine.¡±


    Ark backtracked, confused. His head left their mother¡¯s grasp and he looked down at her. Melmarc couldn¡¯t see his brother¡¯s face, but Ark¡¯s form looked very worried from the back. His shoulders grew tense, his neck stiffened slightly.


    He looks like he¡¯s getting ready for a fight he knows he won¡¯t win.


    When Ark finally said something, it was a single word. ¡°What?¡±


    Their mom looked from him to his father. ¡°The portal your dad went into to save you,¡± she said. ¡°Going into a portal is a tough experience. People don¡¯t talk about it a lot but it really is.¡±


    Oh, Melmarc thought, realizing what was happening. How did she hear about me entering a portal?


    His mom had the wrong son.


    ¡°Dad didn¡¯t come to get me from a portal,¡± Ark said. ¡°In fact, I just met dad yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Their mother pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Hold up, I¡¯m getting confused here. If your dad didn¡¯t¡ª¡± she frowned and stepped forward, silence dawning on her as if she¡¯d just realized something. Her hand shot out before Ark could react and grabbed him by the hem of his shirt. ¡°What the hell happened to you?¡±


    She¡¯d raised Ark¡¯s shirt up already, staring down at his massive scar. Her expression grew pale. ¡°My God. What¡ª¡±


    ¡°Maybe this conversation will be better had inside,¡± Dorthna said, interrupting her.


    Their mother blinked twice. She carried a haunted expression, as if she had just seen the greatest horrors of mankind.


    Then her expression hardened into something very dangerous. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill Ruth.¡±


    Sometimes, their mother didn¡¯t listen to all the details given.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who Ruth is,¡± Ark said slowly. ¡°But I kind of feel sorry for her already.¡±


    Melmarc shared the same opinion on the subject.


    Their mom took a very deep and calming breath. When she let the breath out, she looked around them, specifically at the road and the houses in the neighborhood.


    ¡°Your Uncle Dorthna¡¯s right,¡± she said finally. ¡°We should go inside.¡±


    She walked past Ark as Dorthna turned and opened the front door and made a straight path to Melmarc.


    Melmarc was already bending his head before she got to him. He bent low as she wrapped both arms around his neck.


    ¡°It¡¯s so good to be back,¡± she muttered against his ears. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you both so much.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve missed you, too, mom,¡± Melmarc muttered.


    For a moment, he realized a possible dark side of his skill as his mother held him in her embrace. What would he have done if his thoughts had called dissonant on her words?


    It was terrifying enough to burrow a hole in his mind. Being able to tell when his parents were lying was beginning to seem more like a daunting thing than something he would be happy to take advantage of.


    His mother separated from him, pulling back so that she could take his face in her hands. Everyone was already heading towards the door now. Their father stood between them and the rest of the world, facing the road and the building like some rear guard, protecting the rest of the team.


    Dorthna was already inside the house and Ark was doing his best to sneak passed Melmarc and their mother. Their mother¡¯s hand shot out to smack him on the shoulder as he past and Ark let out a pained yelp.


    ¡°That hurts,¡± he complained, grumbling as he rubbed his shoulders and opened the door.


    ¡°That¡¯s for making me worry,¡± she scolded him, turning her attention back to Melmarc as Ark laughed awkwardly and went inside. ¡°Why can¡¯t your brother be more like you? I swear it¡¯s like he has too much of a life. Maybe we should tie him to a post at the back of the house. What do you think?¡±


    Melmarc smiled. ¡°We don¡¯t have a post at the back of the house, mom.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± His mother nodded, thoughtful. ¡°We should build a post at the back of the house. Something that can hold him.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s smile widened and he raised a hand and placed it on his mother¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We should go inside, mom.¡±


    She nodded, dropping her hands from his face and reaching past him to open the front door. ¡°You¡¯re right. And why are you and your brother having another growth spurt? I thought kids only have the one growth spurt.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have an answer to that, so all he did was laugh as he held the door open for her to enter the house.


    ¡°Dad,¡± he called once his mother was inside. ¡°I¡¯m going in.¡±


    His dad said nothing. He simply turned and started walking towards the door. In moments, they were all inside the house.


    ¡­


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t been gone for that long yet it felt like he had been gone forever sitting in the living room with his parents, Uncle Dorthna and Ark. The entire family would be complete if Ninra was present, but it was what it was.


    ¡°So,¡± their mother let out a sigh, sitting next to their father on the two seater in the room, ¡°who¡¯s going to tell me exactly what is going on?¡±


    Ark shot Melmarc a look from across the room since they sat on opposing sides. Melmarc remembered an old conversation the moment he caught the look. Once upon a time, Ark had worried about how he was going to tell their Christian parents that his class was debatably synonymous to the anti-Christ.


    Melmarc had suggested that having him or Uncle Dorthna would be a good idea.


    Well, he¡¯s got the both of us, so he should be fine.


    Melmarc found himself doubting it, though. After all, he had his own things to tell. Only his father knew that he was Gifted between his two parents. He also had to tell them that he was the [August Intruder].


    ¡°Melmarc got stuck in a portal,¡± Ark blurted out suddenly.


    ¡°What?!¡± their mother turned on Melmarc, and he ran a frustrated hand down his face.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Ark gave him an apologetic look. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, I panicked.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know what he had been expecting. Ark liked to play Russian roulette with dangerous situations but couldn¡¯t tell his parents that his class was [Demon Lord]. But Ark wasn¡¯t stupid, Melmarc always had to remind himself of that.


    His brother was prone to doing stupid things that often made people think that he was stupid but he really wasn¡¯t. Now was an example of when someone would mistake Ark¡¯s actions for stupidity.


    Naturally, Melmarc would want to shift the attention from himself by revealing something that would return it to Ark. And since their mother had already seen the ¡®stab¡¯ wound, he couldn¡¯t use that. The only other thing he could use was Ark¡¯s class.


    And that would play right into his hands, Melmarc thought.


    There was no way he was going to be the one to tell their parents of Ark¡¯s class. Ark¡¯s punishment would be having to tell them himself.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one that got stuck in a portal?¡± his mother asked, her face a mix of worry, anger and confusion.


    Melmarc nodded timidly, and Ark¡¯s face took on a look of someone who¡¯s plan had failed. Melmarc tried not to smirk at his perceived victory over his brother.


    Their mother looked from him to their father. ¡°Is this true, babe?¡±


    Their father nodded.


    ¡°He¡¯s the one you went to save?¡±


    Again, their father nodded. A man of so little words.


    Their mother¡¯s confusion grew. She smiled, then frowned. She shook her head as if rejecting an accepted thought.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re Gifted, Mel?¡± she asked, voice slightly shaky.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Yes, mom.¡±


    Their mother sucked in a deep breath then let it out. Once she was done a soft and genuine smile touched her face.


    ¡°Congratulations, Mel,¡± she said with a smile. The smile made her look younger. ¡°I know how much you¡¯ve wanted to be Gifted. Would you like us to throw a party?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows furrowed in confusion but their mother wasn¡¯t really paying attention to him anymore. She was slowly getting lost in her own thoughts.


    She turned to their dad. ¡°We can throw something small. Just call it a party. Parties don¡¯t always have to have a reason, right?¡±


    Their father nodded and she turned her attention back on Melmarc.


    ¡°You could invite your friends,¡± she continued. ¡°The huge one, and the other one. Delano and Eroms. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be happy to come. And, Ark, you can invite your girlfriend.¡±


    Ark made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ¡°No girlfriend, mom. I¡¯m single again.¡±


    Their mother paused. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Yea,¡± Ark nodded. ¡°These things happen.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Ark,¡± their mom said. ¡°I know how much you liked her.¡± She paused to think before adding: ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve introduced me to any other friends, though. Do you know any other ones, babe?¡±


    Their father shook his head.


    Ark didn¡¯t have any other friends that he called friends at home. He had a few friends on the football team and the basketball team, but he treated them more like school friends not actual friends. The same thing applied to his friends in class.


    Ark had a habit of keeping his friends in a category. He had a lot of them, but they knew nothing about him besides what they got to experience in school or when they hung out. Melmarc never really knew why.


    ¡°I guess just Mel¡¯s friends, then.¡± Their mother pursed her lips. ¡°But that¡¯s just two people. I don¡¯t think we can call it a party.¡±


    ¡°Mom,¡± Melmarc said, drawing her attention.


    ¡°Yes, hun.¡±


    ¡°No party.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°Am I missing something? When I was your age, kids loved parties and going out and things like that. Is it different for you people now?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Mel just isn¡¯t a people person.¡±


    ¡°What about you, Ark?¡± their mom asked. ¡°It¡¯s kind of hard to believe you aren¡¯t a Gifted. I saw the scar.¡±


    Ark nodded, his expression as casual as he could make it. It might have been too casual because their mother¡¯s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion.


    ¡°Ark.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mother.¡±


    Melmarc almost sighed. Ark only called their mom ¡®mother¡¯ when there was something going on. It didn¡¯t have to be good or bad, it just had to be something. And anyone who didn¡¯t know whatever the ¡®something¡¯ was had to be negative right now wasn¡¯t intelligent enough to be a part of this conversation.


    ¡°What are you hiding?¡± their mother asked, jumping on it very quickly.


    Ark forced a smile, it looked sheepish. ¡°Nothing, mom.¡±


    Their mother¡¯s gaze narrowed more. ¡°Tar¡¯arkna North Lockwood.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna laughed. ¡°Your middle name gets me all the time. Who names their kid after a cardinal point?¡±


    Their mom glanced at him but that was all she did before looking back to Ark.


    Melmarc found Uncle Dorthna¡¯s reaction funny because who names a kid Tar¡¯arkna. Yes, from what he¡¯d been told, Uncle Dorthna had been the one to give Ark the name. According to him, it was a name from an old language that meant ¡®Dying Light.¡¯


    Still, it was such an odd name that they just shortened it to Ark to avoid long conversations regarding the name. People still gave Ark odd looks whenever they saw the name on his identification.


    Their mom and Ark were suddenly caught in a staring competition and Ark was clearly losing. Given more time, Ark might cave. If he didn¡¯t, Melmarc doubted their mother would ever deduce that the thing he was hesitant to share was the name of his class. There was no such thing as a terrible class¡ªat least as far as the world knew¡ªso there was no way she would guess that he had a terrible class.


    ¡°Did you get a bad class?¡± their mom asked.


    I guess I was wrong.


    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be ashamed of your class even if it was something like [Gardener]. You¡¯ll be sad but not ashamed. Has to be something else.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna laughed again. ¡°Ark, please tell your parents so we can move on to other things. Your dad looks like he¡¯s going to pass out from trying to keep his thoughts in check.¡±


    Melmarc looked to his father and he looked completely normal. Expressionless.


    How can he tell?


    ¡°It¡¯s my class,¡± Ark admitted in the end.


    ¡°I¡¯m confused,¡± their mother said. ¡°It can¡¯t be that bad. If you healed from a terrible injury like the one you have between now and when I left, it should have good healing properties.¡±


    ¡°The healing was more Spitfire than me,¡± Ark corrected. ¡°I still have some healing things, though. Just, not that strong.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I don¡¯t get what¡¯s going on right now.¡± Their mother folded her arms. ¡°Ark, tell me what your class is so that I don¡¯t have to force it out of you.¡±


    Ark scratched the back of his head. ¡°You¡¯ll both love me, regardless, right?¡±


    Melmarc raised a confused brow, his head cocking to the side involuntarily. Was Ark serious?


    Was he making a joke or was he really afraid that their parents would stop loving him because he was the anti-Christ. Their mother was more open-minded than their father, so he knew that there was no reason to worry about that on her end.


    But dad¡­


    Their father¡¯s expression hadn¡¯t changed in any way.


    ¡°Ark, stop being dramatic,¡± their mother sighed. ¡°It¡¯s just a class. I don¡¯t see any reason for¡ª¡± she stopped suddenly. Then she took a moment to look at him, really look at him.


    Melmarc did the same and saw it. It was there, bright as day, hidden behind Ark¡¯s sheepish smile and awkward expression.


    He¡¯s serious.


    The thought of their parents no longer loving him because of his class had really crossed his mind. There was no way that Ark hadn¡¯t known that it would not happen. Yet, it bothered him. He looked like a boy waiting for the judge¡¯s verdict in a court of law. Waiting to know if he would be going to jail or not.


    Melmarc almost wanted to take his place. But he couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Ark,¡± their mom said, choosing her words slowly. ¡°You¡¯re our son, our child¡ª¡±


    ¡°A pain in the neck,¡± their father added out of nowhere, surprising everybody, including their mother who turned to give him a look of surprise.


    She smiled softly before returning her attention to Ark. ¡°Your father¡¯s wrong. You¡¯re not a pain in the neck, you¡¯re a massive pain in the neck.¡±


    Ark gulped visibly.


    ¡°But,¡± their mother raised a finger at him, ¡°you¡¯re still our son. Whatever it is you¡¯re worried about, I promise you that we will be mad, angry and all around pissed at you, and that¡¯s the worst-case scenario. But we will never stop loving you.¡±


    Ark nodded. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Now what¡¯s your class?¡±


    ¡°[Demon King].¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Their mother¡¯s eyes moved slowly to their father. Everyone¡¯s gaze followed and there was no one that didn¡¯t see the slight twitch in his left eye.


    ¡°Babe,¡± their mother said.


    Their father met her eyes with a lack of any expression. ¡°It¡¯s not like he had a choice.¡±


    That much was true.


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡± their mother turned to Dorthna. ¡°I thought humans couldn¡¯t have that class.¡±


    They knew about the class? Melmarc thought, surprised.


    Uncle Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t humans be able to have the class?¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it in the name? I thought it was only for demons.¡±


    ¡°Just because the one you met was an actual demon, and the class has demon attached to it, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s a class strictly for demons.¡±


    They¡¯ve met a [Demon King]? What the hell?


    Just how much had his parents gone through? How much were they already aware of?


    ¡°So, what?¡± their mother asked, worried. ¡°Is he going to be like the others?¡±


    ¡°If he wants to get stronger.¡± Dorthna didn¡¯t seem the slightest bit worried about what they were talking about.


    Their mother, however, looked worried.


    ¡°He¡¯ll probably find his way to his kingdom soon enough.¡± Dorthna shot Ark a subtle glance. ¡°But I¡¯m sure he can stay. The Law of Bloodline should allow it¡­ amongst other things.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡±


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°You¡¯re not going to be losing your child. At least, not that one. Just move on with the conversation and let¡¯s have this whole conversation done with.¡±


    To Melmarc¡¯s surprise, their mother did.


    Turning her attention to him, she asked, ¡°What about you, Mel? What did you get?¡±


    ¡°[Faker].¡±


    His mother cocked a brow. ¡°You don¡¯t look like a [Faker], though.¡±


    With his extra height, Melmarc was sure he didn¡¯t. In fact, he looked like someone with a strength based Class. It was sure to throw anyone that tried to guess his Class into some form of confusion.


    Their mother looked at their father and chuckled lightly. ¡°I guess the apple doesn¡¯t fall far from the tree.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Ark blurted. ¡°Dad¡¯s a [Faker]?¡±


    Their mom nodded. ¡°Uhuh.¡±


    Ark gave her a suspicious look. ¡°And you¡¯re just telling us like it¡¯s nothing?¡±


    ¡°Well, Ninra knew,¡± their mother said.


    Ark shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. You were happy to tell Ninra but not Mel and I. Then all of a sudden you¡¯re okay telling us. You have to admit it feels kind of¡­ odd.¡±


    ¡°The kid¡¯s right,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°You should give him an explanation.¡±


    ¡°Well, Ninra has always been very mature,¡± their mom said. ¡°She only retains information that¡¯s useful to her and doesn¡¯t share unless you ask her to. You are a wild card, only God knows what you do with the information you get. I think it¡¯s as simple as that.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Ark pursed his lips sheepishly and Spitfire finally made its entrance. ¡°What about Mel. You didn¡¯t tell Mel.¡± Ark looked at Melmarc. ¡°They didn¡¯t tell you, right?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°They didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°There!¡± Ark said as if he had just won the argument that didn¡¯t exist. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell Mel. How do you explain that?¡±


    ¡°Easy. We didn¡¯t want him getting too intimate and comfortable with the idea of Gifted in the family. We weren¡¯t sure if he would get a Class and we didn¡¯t want him to be more disappointed if he didn¡¯t. Also, there was a very high chance that he would tell you. I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve noticed, but he kinda does whatever he has to when it comes to you.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°He does.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± their mother said with a drawl. ¡°A [Demon King] and a [Faker]. Your sister¡¯s going to flip when she finds out.¡±


    ¡°Nin already knows, though.¡±


    Their mother laughed. ¡°She must be turning in her bed just thinking about all of it.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna clapped his hands suddenly, drawing everyone¡¯s attention to him. ¡°Now that that has been sorted out. You will need to have a conversation with your husband and the kids will need to be left alone. The time has come, wife of Madness.¡±


    There was something suddenly very eerie about Uncle Dorthna. Something different. It was in his eyes. He reminded Melmarc of the friend of the good guy in the movies who got a big reveal at the end and turned out to be the bad guy.


    ¡°Mom,¡± Melmarc said, voice unsure.


    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Mel,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°Uncle Dorthna just wants to have a very deep conversation. It shouldn¡¯t take too long.¡±


    ¡°It will take at least two days,¡± Dorthna said, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Hold up,¡± their mother protested. ¡°It didn¡¯t take that long last time.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because things are more complicated this time.¡±


    Their mother dropped her hands in her face, mumbling something incoherent. ¡°This is highway robbery.¡±


    Melmarc looked between the both of them. What did his mom mean by highway robbery.


    ¡°Two days is a lot,¡± she insisted.


    ¡°You won¡¯t be the one bearing the cost,¡± Dorthna pointed out.


    ¡°My point exactly,¡± she grumbled. ¡°Last time was already too much for the both of us, and it was barely three hours. Now it¡¯s just going to be only him. How do you expect him to handle two days?¡±


    ¡°The children could always chip in.¡±


    Their mother¡¯s eyes turned cold, empty. ¡°If you intend on giving me a warrior¡¯s death, Dorthna, then say it now. But you cannot have my children.¡±


    Dorthna waved her words aside with a dismissive gesture. ¡°What do you think I am? I¡¯m not some demon that you sacrifice children to. I¡¯m just saying they can chip in on the payment. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be happy to.¡±


    The cold fury slipped from their mother¡¯s face as Ark and Melmarc watched in confusion. They had no idea what was going on.


    Despite the lack of her anger, their mother still had a frown on her face. ¡°A [Demon King] can offer payment, too? I thought only Oaths can handle it.¡±


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°Truthfully, Oaths aren¡¯t even meant to be the ones handling such a thing. But a [Demon King] is definitely a good fit. An even better fit, however,¡± he turned and looked at Melmarc, ¡°is an [August Intruder].¡±


    Silence fell over the entire room.


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t been worried about telling his mother that he was the [August Intruder] but something about the way Uncle Dorthna had dropped the news just told him that it wasn¡¯t a piece of information that would¡¯ve mattered very little to his mother.


    He watched understanding dawn on his mother. It was in her expression, the sudden widening of her eyes the slight parting of her lips. It was in the horror that he saw there.


    When she spoke again, it was with two simple words that carried too many emotions.


    ¡°Please no.¡±


    She looked back at their father, and their father gave her a simple nod. There was something solemn about it and her expression fell a little more.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure why, but something inside him broke a little at the sight.


    Ark isn¡¯t the one that should¡¯ve been worried.


    Uncle Dorthna had always known and yet he had dropped the information like this, without even giving him some heads up. In this moment, Melmarc hated his uncle just a little bit.


    [Alert!]


    [System message detected!]


    ¡­


    [Permission requirement detected!]


    [Your Oath of Inevitability wishes to send a system message to all Oaths of your world.]


    [There are no system protocols in place detected.]


    [Would you like to allow system message to be sent?]


    ¡­


    [Grant permission to send system message.]


    [Y/N]


    What the hell?

 NINETY-FIVE: Theres Your Queen

    The slow caress of uncertainty filled the room. It crawled all over the walls and whispered in the open pages of the documents strewn across the table.


    It had been a week since the Oath of Madness had found the [August Intruder]. A week since they¡¯d been looking for the Oath of Madness. His wife had been shoved out of whatever portal she had been in, the same with every other Gifted only a few days ago.


    Chetam turned his attention to the large television in the office. The channel was set to the news where some handsome man was talking about the recent discomfort the country was going through.


    You¡¯d think people would be happy with the disappearance of portals, Chetam thought.


    It had been a few days since the [August Intruder] had established their dominance on the entire world. Chetam had reached out to a few Oaths he knew that were outside the country, even in completely different continents. What he¡¯d learnt was that while he¡¯d initially assumed that the [August Intruder] had established their dominance on the entire country, he had been very wrong.


    He doubted that there was any Oath alive who had not received the notification.


    The [August Intruder] had established dominance on the entire world, and that worried Chetam. A being strong enough to have that much reach was a power that was worrying. Chetam didn¡¯t want to control such a being or put them down. He didn¡¯t fear the power. He simply hoped that the power was not in the wrong hands.


    If they listen to Madness, they should be fine, he thought. Right?


    He paused, tapping a finger on his office desk, a thick glass desk with unnecessary width. After a moment, his finger stopped tapping. Maybe Madness was not as safe a bet as he thought he would be. After all, the Oath had a reputation for being unpredictable.


    He could be as honorable as he could be dishonorable. He could obey as easily as he could disobey. Madness was an Oath guided by his own principles, and from what everybody knew, the man¡¯s principles were guided by the wind.


    Chetam let out a sigh and leaned his head back against his chair. The only sound that filled the room was of the man on the news talking about how different Delving companies were looking into the cause of the portals suddenly closing and no longer opening.


    Chetam could understand the reason the Delving companies were in a state of confusion. For one thing, the closing of portals to Delvers was like waking up one morning and realizing that you no longer got dry seasons.


    Or there¡¯s no money.


    It made you worry. For them, it was a case of why the portals had closed. If they knew why the portals had closed then they would be able to predict if it was a permanent thing or a short reprieve from the stress.


    Not knowing was always a problem.


    There was also the part where the absence of portals made Delvers obsolete. What would they do now, there was no one that would be willing to pay them for just being Gifted. And most of their abilities were designed for combat purposes so they couldn¡¯t live normal working lives.


    There¡¯s also the vultures, Chetam thought. Those who made their profit off of the gains they made from inside the portals, the weapons and minerals they got from them.


    They¡¯ll be difficult to put in check.


    Chetam sighed again. This was proven more stressful than he thought. Not all good things were good things, it turned out. Even some of the Oaths were worried.


    ¡°That¡¯s your third sigh.¡±


    Chetam¡¯s gaze moved to the side, specifically to the chair on the other side of his desk. The Oath of Shield sat there looking as regal as she could, which was regal enough.


    ¡°I¡¯m groaning, not sighing,¡± he corrected her.


    ¡°Nope.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve definitely heard three sighs.¡±


    Chetam pursed his lips, looked at her pointedly, and groaned.


    ¡°There,¡± he said. ¡°I groaned.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be a child.¡±


    Chetam spun on his swivel chair and calmed himself with the small touch of breeze that touched his face from the action.


    ¡°Being childish is my defense mechanism for stress,¡± he said when he finally came to a stop and was facing her again.


    ¡°You need a better defense mechanism,¡± the Oath of Shield, Ruth, said. ¡°Your current one is not befitting of someone your age.¡±


    ¡°Age is just a number.¡±


    ¡°I bet that¡¯s what pedoph¡ª¡± Ruth clamped her mouth shut as if suddenly realizing that she didn¡¯t want to go down that path. ¡°Never mind.¡±


    Chetam looked at her through narrowed lids. He considered forcing the topic, then changed his mind. Of all the evil people did, preying on children in any way to her was the gravest crime. Shield was willing to protect any and everybody as long as it did not go against the greater good¡ªit was in her nature as an Oath. It didn¡¯t matter what you were, she was going to protect you, regardless. But there was something about how deep seethed her hatred for any that preyed on children was that it always managed to override her Oath.


    Sometimes he liked to tell himself that it was just a different manifestation of her Oath. She was the protector, and the children were ultimately the essence of the world, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to believe that. Ruth had hated them even before becoming an Oath.


    There had been an instance where she¡¯d forgiven a man who had conned an adult of his parents¡¯ retirement fund. In a similar case, a man had conned a fourteen-year-old of some amount of money¡ªChetam didn¡¯t know the entire story of what had really happened. Suffice to say, Ruth had brought down the hammer of judgement on the man quite swiftly.


    Chetam wondered if there was anything he loved enough or hated enough to override his Oath and came up with nothing.


    For her its her hatred for those who prey on the young, he thought. For War, it was her love for her children.


    For a moment, Chetam wondered what would happen if the [August Intruder] turned out to be a terrible person¡ªan unforgivable person.


    We definitely can¡¯t kill them. Maybe we¡¯ll just lock them up somewhere they can¡¯t escape from.


    A deep frown touched his lips as the entire thing soured his mood so suddenly.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite the scowl,¡± Ruth said.


    ¡°I know,¡± Chetam grunted.


    ¡°Willing to expand on why it¡¯s there?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°An abrupt answer.¡±


    Chetam shrugged. ¡°An inevitable answer.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough.¡± Ruth sat up on her chair and leaned forward. ¡°Have you gotten any feedback from any of the Oaths?¡±


    Chetam shook his head and it was Ruth¡¯s turn to frown.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a few days,¡± she said.


    ¡°Three days.¡± He had been counting.


    ¡°You can¡¯t tell me that they haven¡¯t gotten it.¡±


    ¡°They haven¡¯t,¡± Chetam said. His interface had basically told him so.


    When he¡¯d sent out the call to all the Oaths, he¡¯d gotten a system message in return. It told him that his [August Intruder] had been informed of his desire to send a message to all available Oaths, and that since there were no protocols in place giving him the power to send it whenever he wished, it would only be sent after the [August Intruder] had allowed it.


    So here he was, days later, with no update on the status of his message.


    ¡°Did you get it?¡± he asked her.


    Ruth shook her head. ¡°I just assumed you didn¡¯t send it to me since we were the ones that talked about calling the meeting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of being able to send the message to specific Oaths,¡± he said. ¡°Have you?¡±


    Ruth shook her head. ¡°I just assumed. You know, since you¡¯re quite good at these things.¡±


    Chetam snorted. ¡°I know just as much as you do about our interfaces, Shield.¡±


    As the Oath of Inevitability, he actually liked to think that he knew more. But that was just hubris, his pride talking. If there was anyone who truly knew more than every other Oath, it had been Secrecy.


    Sometimes Chetam had often wondered if there was anything the Oath hadn¡¯t known. The man had been able to learn even the secrets of a colony of ants, and it wasn¡¯t an exaggeration. He had once seen the man stumble upon an ant hill, watch it for a few seconds, then start picking away at it. A lot of ants had died in the events that had followed.


    In the end, he¡¯d reached into the rubble and picked up a small mound of sand.


    ¡°There¡¯s your queen,¡± Dark Mist, the Oath of Secrets, had said, handing it over to him. ¡°I know you¡¯ve always wanted to have one.¡±


    And he¡¯d been right, Chetam had always wanted to have an ant queen. It wasn¡¯t some deep desire, just a passing one that he¡¯d had once as a child after watching a show about ants on the discovery channel.


    It popped up every now and again but was ultimately unimportant, a passing fancy. But it was a passing fancy he¡¯d never shared with anyone.


    Even to this day, he still didn¡¯t know if that had truly been a mound of sand that had held the queen. After all, he hadn¡¯t kept it.


    However, he had learnt something that day. The Delvers with the SS-rank classes and the Oaths had suffered the touch of power. Secrecy had wreaked havoc on the ant hill, killing countless ants just to reach the queen because he could. Nothing more.


    And Chetam had realized that that was how most of those with power treated those beneath them. Dark Mist had not done what he¡¯d done to see the ants suffer, their suffering had simply been the side effect of his curiosity. He hadn¡¯t been cruel; they¡¯d simply been unimportant.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you explain the situation simply?¡± Chetam found himself asking.


    Ruth shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Madness.¡± Chetam rested his arms on the table in front of him, on top of all the opened documents. ¡°You should¡¯ve explained what was going on to him.¡±


    ¡°What makes you think that I didn¡¯t?¡± she asked.


    ¡°I spoke to his [Sage]. You just went in there and tried to take charge.¡±


    Ruth paused, hesitated, then sighed in defeat. ¡°I thought it would work.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± Chetam scoffed. ¡°Where¡¯d you get that idea?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Madness. By the very virtue of his Oath it stands that he isn¡¯t necessarily one to see reason. So I went in there and hoped that if he never found out what was going on, there wouldn¡¯t be an issue.¡±


    ¡°And brute forcing your way through the entire thing was your good idea?¡±


    ¡°War did it all the time.¡±


    Chetam found himself suddenly growing angry. ¡°War is his fucking wife!¡±


    ¡°She did it even in her capacity as Oath.¡±


    ¡°And what does that have to do with anything?¡± Chetam asked, flabbergasted. ¡°Do you think that just because my wife and I are directors in a company that I won¡¯t still have some level of bias towards her? For fucksake, Ruth, they¡¯ve known each other since before they even became Oaths.¡±


    ¡°Hold up.¡± Ruth raised her hands in surrender. ¡°Why are you attacking me all of a sudden? What the hell did I do?¡±


    ¡°You made an enemy of Madness, the one Oath we can¡¯t go against without risking casualties, when you didn¡¯t have to. What in the world convinced you to even fight him. That was the stupid thing. I¡¯ve thought about it countless times and I still can¡¯t see the logic.¡±


    Ruth looked down and away. ¡°His team was challenging my authority, talking to me as if we were equals.¡±


    Chetam¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Pride?¡± he asked, stunned to stupor. ¡°That¡¯s your excuse? Pride. You did something dumb all because of your pride.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Ruth slammed a hand on the table violently and the glass shuddered. ¡°I am not a child that has come here to be scolded, Inevitability. I am an Oath!¡±


    Chetam glanced at the table. There were no cracks.


    When did I become a babysitter? He wondered. At this point, he was always holding the Oaths¡¯ hands. He missed when War was around, she had made it easier to put Madness in line. Now¡­


    Now, I don¡¯t even know.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ruth muttered.


    Chetam shook his head. ¡°Does it matter?¡±


    She looked at him. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    Chetam didn¡¯t know. There was a lot he didn¡¯t know anymore.


    ¡°I invited War to the meeting,¡± Ruth said.


    There were two new Oaths who would be confused by the presence of someone that was not an Oath, but it would not be difficult to put them in line.


    ¡°Are you hoping that she will control her husband, keep him calm?¡± Chetam asked.


    ¡°I was,¡± she replied with a touch of hesitation. ¡°But now I¡¯m thinking I shouldn¡¯t have.¡±


    ¡°She found out what you did, didn¡¯t she?¡± Chetam said with a sigh.


    Ruth nodded. ¡°She used to be the reasonable one. I thought she would understand. It was for the greater good. You haven¡¯t stood in the presence of that thing that keeps coming out of the Chaos Runs, Chetam. We should keep thanking whatever power is out there that keeps sending it back.¡±


    So far, Ruth was the only Oath that had been present when the monster had strolled in through a Chaos Run on account of being the only Oath that didn¡¯t go into portals in America.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want more Chaos Runs,¡± Ruth continued, deathly serious. ¡°Anything that makes that thing decide to stay is going to be a problem for us.¡±


    In the background, the news continued to play, the sound drowned out by its level of irrelevance. It was nothing but background noise at this point.


    ¡°From the videos I¡¯ve seen, I believe that it¡¯s searching for something,¡± he said. ¡°How possible is it that it might have something to do with the [August Intruder]?¡±


    Ruth shook her head. ¡°I doubt it. That thing has been coming in since before the [August Intruder].¡±


    ¡°And that is where our problems lie. That is why it has been going back in.¡± Chetam massaged his forehead with thumb and forefinger as a realization dawned on him. ¡°The [August Intruder has been in a portal. They probably awakened in that portal. It must¡¯ve sensed it and has been searching for whoever it is. However, since they have not been around, it has not been finding them.¡±


    ¡°Too many what ifs,¡± Ruth pointed out.


    ¡°Got a better idea?¡± Chetam asked. ¡°It¡¯s not as if we know a lot about everything that has to do with portals or the monsters that come out of them. In fact, until this¡­ thing showed up, we didn¡¯t know that monsters could go back into Chaos Runs.¡±


    ¡°But on what grounds are you basing this hypothesis?¡±


    ¡°On no grounds, Shield. I¡¯ve got nothing to work with here. We¡¯ve never had a monster from a Chaos Run behave like this before. A monster that completely disregards the presence of an Oath outside of a portal is practically unheard of. So, on one hand we¡¯ve got a new anomaly that is the monster, and on the other hand we¡¯ve got the arrival of the [August Intruder]. I¡¯d say it¡¯s quite logical to think they are related since they¡¯ve shown up at arguably the same time.¡±


    Ruth paled slightly. ¡°That means that the next time it comes, its staying.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d assume so.¡±


    The problems just kept on mounting. What was worse was that Madness was no one¡¯s ally. How sure were they that he would even answer the summons, if the [August Intruder] ever approved it?


    What were the chances that the summons would even the approved?


    There were just too many questions popping up within such a short time period. What was worse was that all the questions were important.


    Chetam hated questions.


    ¡°You know you¡¯re going to have to be punished, right?¡± he said to Ruth.


    She shrugged. ¡°At this point, it¡¯s inevitable. I just hope that War still retains some modicum of her Oath in her. That¡¯s the only way I can be guaranteed a fair judgement, something fitting that Madness will accept.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should seek out that her [Sage],¡± Chetam mused. ¡°The one that liked negotiating for her. Maybe he can get you a lighter punishment.¡±


    Ruth chuckled lightly. The [Sage] had had his uses, but she¡¯d never really liked him. ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Chetam paused. ¡°What even happened to that guy? What was his name again?¡±


    ¡°Naymond Hitchcock,¡± Ruth answered simply. ¡°And no one knows. Last time I checked, he just kind of dropped off the face of the world after War sent him to check on something in Romania.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I remember.¡± Chetam¡¯s expression saddened. ¡°I think I heard somewhere that he died in a car crash over there. I think some Gifted had it out for him.¡±


    Ruth shook her head. ¡°Quite a stupid way to go for a class as intelligent as a [Sage] if you ask me.¡±


    ¡°I said that I think I heard it somewhere,¡± Chetam pointed out. ¡°I never said that that¡¯s what happened. I¡¯m ninety percent sure that I¡¯m wrong. Naymond never struck me as the kind of guy to die easily.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°This is just fucked up!¡± Tony swore. ¡°I get being punished, but disbanded?! What the hell?¡±


    Alfa said nothing, her eyes fixed to her laptop screen as she considered the events of the past few days. She was still sore about how Melmarc Lockwood¡¯s father had overhauled everything.


    She understood what he had done, her problem was with how he had done it. Although, if she was being honest, the man hadn¡¯t done anything himself. It had all been his team.


    At least she believed it was his team.


    She let out a sigh and tipped her head back against her chair. A one month suspension and the permanent disbanding of her team. That was the current ongoing punishment she was supposed to be serving.


    I mess up and they have to pay for it, she thought. So much for being the precinct¡¯s prized Gifted.


    It seemed no amount of public opinion could save her from the powerful. It was funny because Melmarc hadn¡¯t looked or behaved like a boy that had come from power. He had been too timid, too simple in everything he did.


    She remembered the tall boy that had stood beside her on his first day, completely out of his element. She remembered how confused and worried he¡¯d looked when he¡¯d told everyone that he was a [Faker].


    That had not been the boy that had stepped out of the portal. He was the same boy, but he¡¯d been different. He¡¯d grown, she could tell. Grown in size. Worse, whatever he¡¯d experienced inside the portal, it had changed him somehow. It had been in his eyes.


    There had been something there. They weren¡¯t haunted or tired. No. They were simply different. Where they had been curious when she¡¯d met him, they had been assessing when he¡¯d returned.


    But there was still a touch of that sixteen-year-old boy there. She didn¡¯t know if she was supposed to be worried by the fact that that touch of childhood remained in his eyes. She¡¯d seen adults walk into a portal for the first time and come out completely changed and jaded.


    ¡°Boss.¡±


    Alfa¡¯s attention perked up and she looked at Tony. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    The man was scratching at his receding hairline. Not the hair itself but the hairline. Tony was the oldest of all the detectives on her team. From what she could remember about him, his parents came from Australia, but he¡¯d been born in the country. Sometimes he had an accent when he spoke but it was so rare and weak that you couldn¡¯t tell unless you were looking for it.


    ¡°They¡¯re disbanding the team,¡± Tony said.


    Alfa nodded. ¡°I¡¯m aware. I got the email, too.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re not going to say anything about it?¡± Tony asked, voice growing hot with anger. ¡°This shit wasn¡¯t our fault. Yes, we share some of the blame, but they can¡¯t just pin the entire thing on us. It¡¯s not our fault that a felon was working with us. They were the ones that pushed him on us. Naymond was the one that led the kid into trouble.¡±


    ¡°And I signed off on it.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°Like I said, we share some of the blame. But I think this is too harsh of a punishment.¡±


    Alfa wanted to laugh. Her team got disbanded and they all got suspended with pay for a month. As far as she was concerned, they were getting a vacation.


    She was suspended and was getting no pay. For how long? The email didn¡¯t say. In fact, the email had gone the extra mile to inform her that she would be facing a disciplinary committee at a date of their choosing, putting her in a state of limbo.


    The disciplinary committee usually set a date to see you, so the fact that a date wasn¡¯t set had her feeling like it had something to do with appeasing Melmarc¡¯s parents somehow.


    The powerful really do get special treatment.


    If it had been some random kid to some random parents, all this chaos wouldn¡¯t be happening. They would¡¯ve given her a slap on the wrist and sent her on her way. She wasn¡¯t saying that it was the right thing, she was simply reflecting on the inequality of things.


    ¡°Take your vacation happily, Tony,¡± she said to her detective. ¡°Go be with the family. Have a nice time. You¡¯ve got what? A daughter?¡±


    ¡°Two boys and a girl,¡± Tony corrected.


    ¡°Well, I was half right,¡± she said with a sigh. ¡°Go be with them. play catch with your boys, let your daughter put make up on your face and braid your hair.¡±


    Tony gave her a pointed look and her eyes went up to his hair. His receding hairline wasn¡¯t the only problem with his hair, he was also slowly balding.


    Alfa shrugged. ¡°Then let her put a wig on it. Just go be with folks, Tony.¡±


    ¡°And the team?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re being disbanded not fired. You guys will still work in the same building, you just won¡¯t answer to me. If you want to say high and shoot the breeze, I¡¯m very sure you guys can figure a way out.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°It¡¯s not like you to give up, boss.¡±


    Alfa let out a tired breath. ¡°I¡¯m not giving up, Tony. I¡¯m taking my punishment.¡±


    ¡°This was all Naymond¡­ Mostly Naymond.¡±


    ¡°And I was the leader. I was the one in charge of him. I should¡¯ve put him in check.¡±


    ¡°Still a tough punishment.¡±


    ¡°We got a kid stuck in a portal, Tony!¡± Alfa paused when she caught the detective bristle at the sound of her voice. So, she did her best to calm herself. ¡°I know I¡¯ve been composed about it, but that doesn¡¯t make it any less terrible. He survived, yes. But we still got a child stuck in a portal. Anything could¡¯ve happened to him. He could¡¯ve died.¡±


    ¡°But he didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°But he could¡¯ve.¡± Alfa ran a hand through her hair. ¡°That he survived was merely a stroke of luck. We were lucky. I¡¯ve been inside portals before Tony. Believe me, some of those places are terrible. Some of those places are places people should never be in. And a kid got stuck in one of them. Trust me, take the punishment and be happy it¡¯s the only one we¡¯re getting.¡±


    Tony grumbled a little but didn¡¯t say anything. He remained on his seat for a little longer before clicking his tongue and pushing himself to his feet like some tired old man.


    ¡°I still don¡¯t like this,¡± he said as he walked up to the door. ¡°Not one bit.¡±


    Alfa shrugged. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    The commissioner had started writing up his resignation letter right in his office when she¡¯d delivered the update on what had happened. How Melmarc had survived and who had saved him. There was a part of Alfa that knew she would lose her job. There was also another part that worried for her own safety.


    She had a feeling that the Lockwoods would not be satisfied with just taking her job. The powerful tended to be like that. With the Gifted, it was often far worse.


    Tony opened the door but didn¡¯t leave. He took a quick glance outside before closing the door back.


    ¡°Any news on what¡¯s going to happen to those guys that did a number on us?¡± he asked in a low voice. ¡°They had to be Delvers, right? Wasn¡¯t their presence breaking a few laws regarding the treaty between the police and the Delvers?¡±


    ¡°Leave it, Tony.¡± It was all Alfa could bring herself. ¡°Just leave it.¡±


    ¡°But they gotta pay, boss.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Alfa snapped at him. ¡°Must everybody pay for something? Leave it alone, Tony. They saved the kid. Our reward and gratitude to them is in letting the matter die. This isn¡¯t some show and we are not some detectives that chase justice to the ends of the world at the risk of our lives and the detriment of human empathy. So just leave it.¡±


    Tony looked at her, a frown on his face. He looked like he was going to say something else, but he didn¡¯t. Instead, he opened the door, walked out, and closed it behind him.


    Alfa sat quietly in her office for another hour. From what she¡¯d gathered, her detectives had gotten one-month suspensions. She had gotten three, all without pay.


    She wasn¡¯t poor so it wasn¡¯t a problem. There was the income she still got from investing what she¡¯d gained from her short time Delving, and there was her husband¡¯s source of income. Strictly speaking, she had enough money to not even work for another day in her life. She only worked because she liked the job.


    After the hour in her office, she finally stood up. She opened her door, stepping outside into the bustle of the building. She locked her door behind her and was about to use an enchantment to make sure it stayed locked but stopped short.


    The only person she used the enchantment lock because of was no longer around to be worried about.


    Besides, it¡¯s not like it ever kept him out.


    Even now she still had no idea how Naymond kept getting past her enchanted lock. He was a [Sage] not an [Enchanter] or a [Mage], so it had never made sense.


    She left without placing the enchantment and made her way out of the office space. When she got to the building¡¯s elevator, there were others inside. She stepped into it quietly and waited. It took six stops, picking up more people and losing more people before she was finally the only one in the elevator.


    Once she was alone, she pressed the emergency stop button. Then she clicked the basement button three times in quick succession. The elevator jerked once for reasons she knew nothing about before it started its descent.


    She stood quietly through the descent until the elevator came to a stop. She stepped out when the doors opened.


    In this section of the building the walls were matte black, reflecting none of the white light that shined down from the ceiling. The ground, however, was a reflective marble black that reflected the light. This place had no staff stationed in it. In fact, only a handful of people that worked in the precinct were aware of its existence.


    Her footsteps had no sound as she walked. There was no echo, no sign of life. She had only the sound of her breath to announce her presence.


    It wasn¡¯t really surprising because despite the reason it was built, it was rarely ever used. Right now, only one staff member was present.


    Alfa turned down a few paths before she got to her destination. It was a simple cell filled with enough enchantments that she wasn¡¯t strong enough to undo them, and she had tried for fun once upon a time.


    On the other side of the bars, inside the cell, a man sat casually on the ground in a three-piece suit. He watched her like an adult watching a child. He tried to look unbothered, but there was something to his face that told her something worried him.


    It annoyed her to know that she wasn¡¯t what worried him.


    ¡°Hello, detective,¡± he said simply, his voice gentle, soft.


    Alfa hated it. Still, if there was one thing she could say for certain, it was that the [Sage] in front of her wasn¡¯t the same [Sage] she¡¯d been working with for the last few months. He was different now, as if he¡¯d finally taken off his mask


    Or put one on.


    It was in his silence, his calm eyes. Gone was all the joviality and childlike shenanigans that always hid behind his eyes. He still gave off the feeling that he was up to something or knew something that you didn¡¯t know. But it was different this time. Where it had always just seemed like something that would annoy you, now it felt like everything hidden behind his eyes were things that could get her killed.


    Like the last time she¡¯d been here, she suddenly didn¡¯t want to be here.


    But she had to be here.


    ¡°Hello, Mr. Hitchcock,¡± she said. ¡°None of the Delvers that went in after you are taking my calls or my husband¡¯s calls.¡±


    Naymond shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised. They lost two of their team members and one of them probably has no choice but to retire from Delving.¡±


    Alfa frowned. Naymond was right. They had owed her husband a favor but, in the end, the cost of the favor had ended up being too high. If anything, The Blight now owed them a favor.


    It didn¡¯t matter right now. Right now, only one thing mattered.


    ¡°So,¡± she said, putting in as much authority in her voice as she could muster. ¡°Is this the day you tell me what happened on the other side of the portal?¡±


    Naymond gave her a slow smile.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± he said.


    ¡­


    Olatunji Oluwapelumi sat quietly in her bedroom reading her email on her phone. She still couldn¡¯t believe that three of the top Gifted schools in the country were offering her a scholarship for a special Gifted program in their school.


    Even though she had never considered going to any of them, it wasn¡¯t as if she had never dreamed of it. Her parents were rich, but they weren¡¯t rich enough to afford it. They were human rich, not Gifted rich, and definitely not Delver rich. It was completely normal since she was the only Gifted in the family.


    What that meant was that while they could afford to send her to a Gifted school that actually trained their Gifted to become Delvers, those schools were definitely not one of the top schools.


    But the offers made sure that she could attend such a school. The best part was that the scholarship accounted for housing and feeding. It was practically a full ride. And the program claimed that it was designed with intensive training with the intentions of making those who attend it as good as they could possibly be.


    Edulard, Fallen High or GreyHounds, she wondered.


    She came to no conclusion as she placed her phone on her bed and laid down. Not for the first time since the conclusion of her mentorship program her mind went back to Melmarc, the very tall boy with the soft hands.


    Remembering his hands, she stroked the inside of her palm. Hers were not hard, but compared to his, she wouldn¡¯t call them soft.


    But that wasn¡¯t why she thought of him. She thought of him for a different reason. Mr. Hitchcock had made her feel safe enough to share her opinions and she had shared them in Melmarc¡¯s presence.


    And a few days ago something happened to her that she wanted to share with them. She would¡¯ve liked to say that it wasn¡¯t that much of a big deal, but it was.


    It was a huge deal.


    She pulled up her interface and looked at her stats.


    Stats


    [Mind 2, Balance 1, Mental 3, Mana 8, Faith 20.]


    Since she¡¯d gained her class up until a few days ago, her [Faith] [Faith] stat had been a simple eight points. Then a few days ago, she¡¯d gotten a notification informing her of an update to her [Faith] stats due to something called an ¡®establishment of dominance.¡¯ She had no idea what it meant then and had no idea what it meant now.


    All she knew was that having a stat jump of twelve points was a huge deal at her rank. And it worried her terribly.


    As she stared at it, only one thought came to mind.


    What does it mean?

 NINETY-SIX: Innovative Imitation

    ¡°You haven¡¯t been very motherly these past few days.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s eyes darkened as she turned them on Dorthna. ¡°What?¡±


    A smile almost touched Dorthna¡¯s lips but he stopped it. It was always interesting to see how she hovered on the edge of strategic violence anytime anyone stepped on the topic of her family in any kind of negative light.


    ¡°Motherly,¡± he repeated. ¡°It¡¯s been two days and you haven¡¯t been very motherly to the kids.¡±


    She frowned at him. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±


    Aurora was calmer now, more controlled. There was no murder in her eyes.


    ¡°Since you came back have you come into physical contact with Melmarc?¡± Dorthna asked.


    ¡°Melmarc doesn¡¯t really like being touched so much,¡± she said.


    ¡°True,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°But unlike Ark, he always allows it.¡±


    Aurora looked away.


    Humans, Dorthna thought. Always so¡­


    Unsurprisingly, he didn¡¯t have the word to finish the sentence. But one thing was for certain; humans had always intrigued him. They could be as smart as they could be stupid. Sometimes they did things that helped him understand why they continued to evolve no matter where they were. Other times they did things that made him wonder how they were still not extinct.


    A mother who had been more than willing to give up her Oath-hood and let her world be damned for her children was now acting oddly around her own child just because he was an [August Intruder].


    ¡°Does it bother you that much?¡± he asked.


    Aurora bit down on her lower lip. Dorthna could see her shame.


    She can¡¯t help it, he noted. She¡¯s realized what she¡¯s been doing but she can¡¯t help it.


    Dorthna leaned forward on the couch he was seating on, interlocking his fingers. ¡°This is not me looking for trouble or anything like that. This is a genuine question. Does it bother you so much to be the mother of an [August Intruder]?¡±


    Aurora blanked as if it was a stupid question. ¡°No,¡± she answered. ¡°Of course not.¡±


    Standing in front of him with that confused expression on her face was very human like. This was one of the reasons Dorthna had chosen this family, although he¡¯d met them before they¡¯d become this family. But it was, ultimately, only one of the reasons.


    ¡°Then why haven¡¯t you been very motherly?¡±


    ¡°Because she¡¯s ashamed.¡±


    Dorthna didn¡¯t bother turning his head at the sound of Madness¡¯ deep baritone. The Oath was lying down on the bed, eyes closed. He laid on his side in a fetus position with his knees drawn all the way up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He looked like a gigantic baby on a bed.


    Why?


    Most likely because.


    ¡°Shame?¡± Dorthna turned the word about in his mouth, tasted it. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    Knowing that Madness was as likely to answer as he was as unlikely to answer, he didn¡¯t bother waiting for the man. There were only four people alive that could ask the Oath a question and get an answer: his three children and his wife.


    The children were definitely going to get an answer to any question asked while his wife was only more likely than others to get an answer.


    ¡°I may be treading on dangerous paths here,¡± Dorthna said to Aurora. ¡°Your kind, I have learnt, can be very¡­ volatile when it comes to their young. And since I do not have a mother, motherly instincts have often tended to confuse me.¡±


    He saw the surprise on her face at the mention of a parental figure in relation to himself.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have a mother?¡± she asked, clearly unable to stop herself.


    ¡°I do not.¡±


    ¡°She died?¡± Aurora asked, her expression softening. ¡°Or you just do not know where she is?¡±


    Dorthna cocked a brow. It was stupid of her to allow such a simple piece of information affect her so easily.


    She was catholic so it was easier for him to explain.


    ¡°Do you know the story of Melchizedek from your holy book?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Melchizedek,¡± she mused. ¡°I think I do.¡±


    ¡°The priest forever,¡± Madness said from his bed.


    Aurora¡¯s expression brightened with recognition. ¡°A priest like Melchizedek of old.¡±


    ¡°Psalm chapter one hundred and ten verse four,¡± Madness finished before falling back into silence.


    Dorthna smiled at their synchronicity. A lot of people he had once known would never believe him if he told them that there were two Oaths, one of Madness and one of War, that were so in sync and so in love.


    They had no idea how impossible their very connective existence was in the wider scheme of existence. They were arguably an existential anomaly. Perhaps impossible wasn¡¯t the word. Improbable seemed to be more fitting.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°That guy. I¡¯m more like him.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± Aurora asked.


    Dorthna pointed casually at the lying Madness a split moment before the Oath spoke.


    ¡°The priest forever is without genealogy,¡± Madness said. ¡°No recorded father or mother.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s brows drew together. ¡°You don¡¯t have a mother or father?¡±


    He had spent enough time with both Oaths to know how Madness worked. He could be baited when it came to his family. However, it remained difficult to know what specifically you had to do to successfully bait him.


    Even now, Dorthna was still learning how to bait him. It was a part of the little things he used to entertain himself.


    ¡°I said I was like the old man,¡± Dorthna pointed out. ¡°Not that I¡¯m the old man. What we have in common is that we don¡¯t have mothers. I¡¯ve got a dad.¡±


    ¡°How does that work?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s like¡ª¡±


    Madness sat up suddenly, surprising them. ¡°Melchizedek is real?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the point of the conversation,¡± Dorthna said simply. ¡°I think we ended up derailing at some point. Let¡¯s go back to the beginning. What are you ashamed of, human?¡±


    Madness remained sitting for a little longer before rolling off the bed and sitting on the ground. Aurora looked at him with a fond smile before turning back to Dorthna.


    ¡°I used to be an Oath,¡± she said, a little hesitantly. ¡°Then I gave it up to protect my children. Now, here I am, again. And the one thing I need to protect my kids is the one thing I gave up to protect them.¡±


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°Still not seeing the problem.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m lesser because I couldn¡¯t be strong enough to remain one of the most powerful beings in the world and still protect my children.¡±


    ¡°So you couldn¡¯t be it all,¡± Dorthna mused.


    Aurora nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Dorthna sighed in exasperation. ¡°Well, that¡¯s stupid.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± She cocked a brow at him. ¡°Last time I checked, you basically achieved everything.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a little unreasonable to compare yourself to me. You do know that, right?¡± Dorthna asked. ¡°It¡¯s your hubris talking.¡±


    ¡°If we knew what exactly you were, I¡¯d know if it is really hubris.¡±


    Dorthna smirked. ¡°Didn¡¯t the system tell you when you found me?¡±


    He knew for a fact that it did not. The system had no designation for what he was, neither did it have a real designation for the curse that he was afflicted with.


    Aurora shot him a dark look, behind it Dorthna could see a whisper of the Oath of War. The woman might¡¯ve given up her Oath but it had left enough of itself in her. There was no surprise there since you had to embody the concept before becoming the Oath. You were a part of the Oath before you became the Oath.


    It was an interesting thing.


    ¡°Who is older?¡± Madness asked. ¡°You or Melchizedek?¡±


    Dorthna looked at him then at Aurora.


    Aurora shrugged as if the question was completely reasonable.


    Dorthna sighed. ¡°Of all the things your mind is capable of latching onto so very easily it has to be your religious obsessions. Madness, you¡¯ve fought angels.¡±


    Madness looked away. His face was a mask, but Dorthna knew he was uncomfortable about the fact that he¡¯d had to fight against angels. It had really shaken up his religious beliefs.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Dorthna continued, ¡°I actually have no idea. As I was saying, you should know by now that the only way you¡¯ll ever find out what I am is by yourself. Besides, haven¡¯t you been listening to your kids growing up? I¡¯m the family mystery.¡±


    Dorthna would be lying if he said he didn¡¯t enjoy being known as the family mystery. He had to admit that kids were interesting.


    Aurora¡¯s expression dipped again, and Dorthna was certain that it had something to do with remembering what Melmarc had become.


    Her reason for her reaction to it still didn¡¯t make much sense to him, though.


    ¡°Wait,¡± she said, perking up suddenly. ¡°You knew!¡±


    The accusation in her voice was clear.


    ¡°Knew what?¡± Dorthna asked, knowing exactly what she was talking about.


    Aurora pointed an accusatory finger at him. It was a little disrespectful, but he was willing to let it slide.


    ¡°You knew that Melmarc was going to become the [August Intruder]. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve been asking me all those questions about becoming an Oath again.¡±


    ¡°Even at my peak I was nigh omniscient,¡± Dorthna pointed out. ¡°Emphasis on nigh. Right now, I¡¯m less than a shell of myself.¡±


    ¡°So why have you been asking me if I would become an Oath again if given the chance?¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    He shrugged. ¡°Curiosity? It¡¯s always fun to know what your choice will be.¡±


    Madness gave him a look and Dorthna almost laughed. The man had a way of detecting disharmony even without his Oath ability. It was often impressive that it sometimes worked on him.


    ¡°By the way, did you know that one of your Oaths is trying to send out a message?¡± Dorthna asked, moving the conversation along. ¡°Mel got a notification.¡±


    ¡°He told us,¡± Aurora said.


    ¡°And what did you advise him to do?¡±


    ¡°I told him to leave it there.¡±


    Dorthna stroked his jaw in thought. ¡°So he should neither reject or allow. You¡¯re trying to make your Oaths stew. Is it really a good idea to look for their trouble right now?¡±


    ¡°Let them stew,¡± Aurora scowled. ¡°Do you know what the General stationed with me said when I got out of the portal?¡±


    Dorthna shrugged. What part of nigh omniscient didn¡¯t she¡­ oh¡­ it was rhetorical.


    ¡°He said that all he knew was that David had had an altercation with an Oath.¡± She threw her hands up in a huff. ¡°Those assholes were doing their best to downplay what had happened so badly that they even went as far as¡­¡±


    Dorthna remained seated, waited. It always intrigued him whenever she showed these signs.


    Aurora frowned, bit down on her lower lip. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    This right here was what continued to convince Dorthna that she would become the Oath of War again, even before she¡¯d gotten the incentive of the [August Intruder]. It was in the way she instinctively found the logic in certain things no matter how high her emotions ran.


    Right now, she¡¯d paused because she¡¯d seen the logic in keeping things as tightly controlled as possible, but she¡¯d stopped herself from voicing it. Why?


    Because she wants her motherly instincts and the emotions born from them to always override her Oath-ly emotions and instincts.


    Dorthna wasn¡¯t sure when last he¡¯d seen an Oath fight against being an Oath so desperately.


    ¡°So you didn¡¯t know that Mel was going to become the [August Intruder]?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°No, not until he got his class.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Dorthna sat back and relaxed calmly with his back against the backrest of the couch. ¡°It is time to renegotiate our contract.¡±


    He could see the look of disbelief on Aurora¡¯s face, but he could not bring himself to care for it. In his honest opinion, he had indulged them enough.


    ¡°But we have a standing contract,¡± Aurora insisted. ¡°It has not¡ª¡±


    ¡°Careful, human,¡± Dorthna warned. ¡°I have upheld my end of the contract to the very end. And seeing as I have done a few things more than agreed upon, you are lucky that I¡¯m not asking for compensation.¡±


    Madness¡¯ attention sharpened on the conversation now, and Dorthna turned to look at him. His conversation with Aurora was over. Now, he spoke only to the person present who could continue it.


    ¡°I have protected your home in your absence,¡± Dorthna said to Madness. ¡°And often times in your presence. The deal was that I care for your children until they are of adult age or have reached the status of Gifted, should they ever. Is this correct?¡±


    Madness nodded once.


    This was why Dorthna liked Oaths of Madness, they were concise, they were certain. They were the true sanity in a sea of madness, not the pretentiousness that was the human race.


    To him the Oaths of Madness were the truest of sentient beings.


    ¡°Ninra is still in school,¡± Aurora pointed out.


    Dorthna gritted his teeth. ¡°She is older than the age of eighteen. On your world, in your country, eighteen makes her an adult.¡±


    He watched panic grow on her face. Madness remained expressionless.


    ¡°The deal,¡± Dorthna continued, ¡°was that once the terms are settled, I would move on. However, I am willing to renegotiate.¡±


    ¡°David cannot continue to pay the price alone,¡± Aurora pointed out. ¡°It will be too much for one Oath.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been doing it well enough for a while now,¡± Dorthna pointed out. ¡°Ever since you gave up your Oath-hood.¡±


    Aurora paled. ¡°And it has been enough to protect the house.¡± She looked at her husband. ¡°How?¡±


    Dorthna snorted in amusement. ¡°You genuinely believe that his paltry payments have been the mana powering the spell I cast over your home and the entire town? A spell capable of disrupting the minds of all Oaths and [Telepaths] on your world? Human, please tell me you do not genuinely believe this.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ but¡­¡± her voice cracked as she tried to grasp at straws.


    Her uncertainty irked Dorthna slightly, and he realized once more that despite the years he¡¯d spent around them, unlike their children, he still had not grown fond of their human side. Even as an Oath, Aurora had displayed her humanity every now and again, but Madness had no humanity to display anymore. His Oath-hood required his constant attention.


    If only he would just give into it.


    ¡°I understand that you found me amongst the angels, human,¡± Dorthna said, trying to be civil for old time¡¯s sake. ¡°But do not mistake me for some kind of guardian angel. I do not protect your children for free. Madness has continued to pay the price for that. However, I fear that even he can no longer pay the price for the renegotiation.¡±


    ¡°Then who is going to¡­¡± Aurora¡¯s voice trailed off in realization and she shook her head. ¡°No. Never. I won¡¯t allow it.¡±


    ¡°I would say that you do not have a say in this matter, but your husband actually listens to you.¡± Dorthna sighed. ¡°But I will like to point out one thing. I do not intend to be as strict as I was last time. Where the last deal was all about my services costing you, this one actually proves beneficial for me. As such, this will be a negotiation. I am willing to bend on some aspects of it.¡±


    ¡°And what will a [Mage] need from children?¡± Aurora asked. ¡°What use will they be to a [Ma¡ª¡±


    ¡°DO NOT CALL ME THAT!¡± Dorthna roared, leaving his seat.


    Aurora took a step away from him. Madness was already on his feet, a single step away from the both of them, ready for violence.


    ¡°Do not,¡± Dorthna repeated, voice calmer this time, ¡°call me that. I am not a [Mage].¡±


    Aurora watched him as if she was watching a wild beast she knew would rip her to shreds. Madness, however, watched him like a duty he had to accomplish. A hit. An enemy to be put down.


    Madness, it seemed, had not forgotten what he was capable of.


    ¡°The system designates your class as [Mage],¡± Madness said simply.


    Dorthna raised his head to the ceiling and stared at it for a while. He was certain that he had a forlorn look in his eyes.


    He fell back on his chair. ¡°The [Mage] class is a paltry imitation of what I once was,¡± he muttered, almost to himself. ¡°Sometimes I believe that my class shows as that only because someone out there wishes to belittle me. To mock me.¡±


    ¡°Then what are you?¡± Aurora asked, her voice far more cautious than her husbands.


    ¡°Emotional,¡± Dorthna said simply. ¡°It will not be good for your negotiations. I will plead that you do not continue to make me emotional.¡±


    ¡°If the [Mage] class is a paltry imitation of what you are,¡± Madness said, seemingly unfazed by Dorthna¡¯s words. ¡°What does that make the [Enchanter] class?¡±


    Dorthna leaned his head back against the chair and kept his eyes to the ceiling. He watched its patterns or lack thereof. After all, they were barely perceptible with simple eyes.


    ¡°The [Mage] class,¡± he said. ¡°Is the fickle being¡¯s attempt at reaching the peak of their existence. Arguably, the [Mages] are the strongest form of humans before Oath-hood. The [Enchanter] is what a person becomes when they should¡¯ve become a [Mage] but could not. They are nothing but weak [Mages]. The consolation prize.¡±


    ¡°And the [Faker]?¡±


    The question brought a smile to Dorthna¡¯s face. If Melmarc wasn¡¯t a [Faker] he would¡¯ve wondered why Madness was asking about it.


    ¡°Your class is a more interesting class than most people give it credit,¡± Dorthna said.


    ¡°Why?¡± Aurora asked.


    ¡°Because it is what a human becomes when they aren¡¯t supposed to have what it takes to become the peak of humanity but strives to become it, regardless.¡± Dorthna looked at Madness. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve never wondered why, but the reason you¡¯re built like a tank but are a [Faker] is because evolution is nothing more than a series of constant innovative imitation. You, Madness, must¡¯ve strived to be everything growing up.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s eyes bobbed in her head as she thought. ¡°Does that mean the class can be the strongest class out there?¡±


    ¡°A fake is no more than an imitation. It is not a perfect copy. However,¡± Dorthna looked between the both of them, ¡°whoever said that I fake cannot be better than the very think it is trying to imitate.¡±


    A smile touched Aurora¡¯s lips as she turned to her husband.


    ¡°Melmarc can get stronger,¡± she said in elation. ¡°He can raise his class.¡±


    ¡°Our son is already strong,¡± Madness said simply. ¡°I¡¯ve seen what he is capable of.¡±


    Aurora paused. ¡°In the portal?¡±


    Madness nodded slowly.


    Dorthna waited as another sigh of relief washed over Aurora. This was the problem he had with dealing with humans. They could not stay on the task at hand. With the children he could understand.


    They were children. They did not know better.


    One¡¯s an [August Intruder] and the other¡¯s a [Demon King].


    They weren¡¯t children anymore.


    ¡°Are you done?¡± he asked Madness, interrupting whatever look-out session his wife was having with him. ¡°I would like to get this done.¡±


    ¡°You said there was a benefit for you,¡± Aurora said.


    ¡°That is correct.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the benefit?¡±


    ¡°That is entirely my business.¡±


    ¡°Does it have anything to do with why you keep collecting trash from the kids and doing terrible things like jumping off buildings?¡±


    ¡°Again,¡± Dorthna said simply. ¡°That is my business.¡±


    Once upon a time in his life, he would never have had to subject himself to being asked questions by Oaths.


    How the mighty have fallen.


    ¡°Alright, then.¡± Aurora folded her arms. ¡°Since you¡¯ve already admitted that you will benefit from this, you¡¯ll have to make your offer first. Tell us what service you plan on rendering, then what the cost for it is.¡±


    ¡°For starters, the same services I rendered still applies.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯ll have to also conceal the location of the house from [Intruders] and [Players] as well,¡± Aurora said.


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°Can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because it will not be fair.¡±


    ¡°To who?¡±


    ¡°The [Intruders] and the [Players]. Imagine a [Player] walks into this world from a portal and their task is to kill the Oath of Madness. If Madness is home at the time, then their task is automatically failed. I will not put some random world through a Chaos Run that they could¡¯ve avoided in my absence. The spell I¡¯ve placed on this place does not change.¡±


    ¡°Then you cannot continue claiming two percent of my husband¡¯s skill mastery every two months as payment.¡±


    ¡°My assistance has not changed and as such, the initial payment will not.¡± Dorthna paused. He really wanted a cup of hot water right now. The room was getting cold enough for it to make him slightly uncomfortable. ¡°I will simply be adding a few more services.¡±


    Aurora watched him through narrow lids, skeptical. ¡°And what will those be?¡±


    ¡°I like Ninra, and since she¡¯s the only child that is not Gifted, she¡¯ll get a teleportation spell that pulls her back here in the event of a life-threatening risk.¡±


    ¡°Let it pull her to wherever you are instead,¡± Aurora said.


    That elicited a raised brow from Dorthna. ¡°Are you sure? I am not always in a safe environment.¡±


    ¡°We all know that there¡¯s no one stronger than you on our world right now.¡± Aurora smirked as if she¡¯d just won an argument. ¡°As long as you¡¯re an ally, there¡¯s no place safer than where you are.¡±


    Dorthna shrugged. He liked all their children but Ninra was his favorite of the three so he didn¡¯t mind the adjustment.


    ¡°The second addition,¡± he said. ¡°Is a spell on Mel.¡±


    ¡°I will also want him brought to you,¡± Aurora said quickly. ¡°Not here. He¡¯s an [August Intruder] now. His life is going to be a bit troublesome.¡±


    Dorthna fought the urge to shake his head. The motherly instinct to protect their child at the risk of stifling their growth always amazed him.


    ¡°As an [August Intruder] danger is the only thing that will grow him,¡± he said. ¡°The spell is not to save his life but to hide him from all the other Oaths.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Aurora said.


    ¡°As an Oath, simply coming into physical contact with him will alert you of what he is,¡± Dorthna explained. ¡°I can make it so that that does not happen.¡±


    ¡°The teleportation would¡¯ve been a better offer.¡±


    ¡°I cannot protect Mel from what he has chosen to become. This is his path. He will either grow through trials and tribulations or die trying. There are no other paths left to him.¡±


    ¡°And what about Ark?¡±


    ¡°What about him?¡±


    ¡°What will you do for him?¡±


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Nothing. You may not know this but Ark doesn¡¯t really need any help.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s got a hole in his stomach.¡±


    ¡°And a demon that healed it with a few licks. Trust me, Ark¡¯s the least of your worries. You cannot begin to fathom what he will be capable of.¡±


    Aurora looked like she was going to argue the case but let it lie. She pressed her lips into a thin line and said nothing.


    ¡°What will it cost the kids?¡± she asked in resignation. ¡°How many percent of their skill mastery will you take?¡±


    ¡°None.¡± Dorthna met her gaze. ¡°I want something else.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s face twisted in worry. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°[EP].¡±


    ¡­


    Ark got up from his bed. It was the middle of the night, and while he could sense how cold the world was, he could not feel it. Temperature was no longer a problem that he had to deal with.


    Getting up from his bed, he went down on his knees and spied under Melmarc¡¯s bed. As expected, he found Spitfire balled up in one of Melmarc¡¯s shirts, eyes closed.


    Ark slipped his hand close to the demon and tapped the ground with a single finger in three quick bursts.


    Spitfire¡¯s eyes opened and it looked at him as if he was a nuisance. Ark couldn¡¯t help but smile at its constant dislike for being taken away from Melmarc¡¯s clothes.


    You were the one that wanted it to grow attached to something of his.


    ¡°Alright, Spitfire,¡± he said in a soft voice. ¡°If we¡¯re going to try again, it¡¯s got to be right now.¡±


    Clearly unhappy, Spitfire unfurled itself from Melmarc¡¯s clothes and crawled out from under his bed.


    Standing in front of Ark, it shook itself free of its sleepiness and stared up at him. Melmarc had been right, Spitfire really was growing.


    ¡°At this rate you won¡¯t be able to keep resting on top of my head.¡± Ark took a step away from it to give it some room to move. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go. You¡¯re sure mom and dad won¡¯t be able to feel it?¡±


    Spitfire looked up at him. <<Yes.>>


    ¡°Good. And Mel?¡±


    Spitfire scrambled up on Melmarc¡¯s bed. Melmarc was not on his bed. Instead, he was lying down on the ground next to the reading table so that the wall was the only thing behind him.


    It was the sixth night in a row that he was doing it, and Ark¡¯s worry was only increasing.


    I¡¯ve put it off for too long. I¡¯ll have to talk to him about it once I get back.


    Whatever Melmarc had gone through inside his portal, it had left him with some trauma. Ark was sure of it. The problem was that he had a feeling that Melmarc wouldn¡¯t want to meet with a therapist.


    Personally, Ark liked therapists. They asked a lot of questions and he liked seeing their puzzled expressions when he gave them his answers. He didn¡¯t always say outlandish things, but he would be lying if he said he didn¡¯t mess around sometimes.


    Melmarc on the other hand always seemed like he couldn¡¯t be bothered. The thing Ark had learnt about therapists was that they liked to ask you questions and guide you to the solutions by making you answer those questions by yourself.


    For Melmarc, Ark doubted there were any questions about himself or situations he found himself in that he had not already asked himself or was not already asking himself.


    ¡°Therapy it is,¡± Ark muttered to himself turning to the wall.


    There, he found Spitfire. It looked as if it was standing on the wall, but it really wasn¡¯t. what it was doing was attaching itself to the air and the countless tiny glitters of mana that littered the air.


    It scratched at one of the mana follicles in annoyance and it sparked but nothing happened. Scratching again gave it the same problem and it looked at him with a frown.


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯re annoyed,¡± he told it. ¡°We already knew that this was could happen again.¡±


    His interface popped up in front of him as he spoke.


    [This world has been temporarily cut off from Existence.]


    [You cannot open a portal out of it]


    Ark sighed, dismissing the notification and turning to Spitfire. ¡°I got the notification again. I guess we¡¯ll have to wait until tomorrow night to try.¡±


    With that, he went back to bed and laid down. His nights were boring now. They had been since Melmarc had come back and locked the world away.


    He turned on his side and stared at Melmarc¡¯s sleeping form in the corner.


    ¡°How long is this your lockdown going to be?¡± he muttered.

 NINETY-SEVEN: What Do You Want To Be?

    ¡°Is it still pending?¡± Melmarc¡¯s mother asked.


    Even though Melmarc knew the answer, he still pulled up his interface to be sure. He thought of the notification that he was looking for and it appeared in front of him without any delay.


    [Permission requirement detected!]


    [Your Oath of Inevitability wishes to send a system message to all Oaths of your world.]


    [There are no system protocols in place detected.]


    [Would you like to allow system message to be sent?]


    ¡­


    [Grant permission to send system message.]


    [Y/N]


    Discarding it with a thought, he turned to his mother and nodded.


    ¡°Alright.¡±


    They were in the living room, and while the television was turned on, the volume had been muted. Melmarc¡¯s dad sat next to his mother saying nothing as always. They were the only occupants of the three-seater couch that Uncle Dorthna liked to sleep on while Dorthna and Ark occupied the only two seater in the room.


    Melmarc sat on one of the two single chairs, which placed him closest to his mother.


    It had been a few days since their mother had returned, a week at least. While they continued to live as a normal family, Melmarc noticed the way his mother was around him.


    She didn¡¯t hate him, he was old enough to know that much, but she treated him differently. As if to compensate for it, she was treating Ark the same way.


    It was in the subtle things. For one, she hadn¡¯t touched him since she¡¯d found out that he was the [August Intruder], and she loved touching. According to something Ninra had told them growing up on a warm afternoon when Ark complained about being touched, touching was their mother¡¯s love language.


    The forehead kisses, the kisses on the cheeks, even the few times when she pinched or pulled on their cheeks, it was her non-verbal expression of love.


    And Melmarc had experienced none of it since her return.


    There was also her politeness. Their mother was naturally kind but now she was too kind. No. She was polite. He wasn¡¯t sure how it worked in most families, but family members were meant to be kind, not polite. At least that¡¯s what Melmarc thought.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know which hurt more, that his mother was treating him like a special guest in the house or that she was treating Ark the same way just so that he wouldn¡¯t feel the weight of it.


    Because it meant that if she could change the way she treated Ark so that Melmarc wouldn¡¯t feel left out, she could have simply changed the way she treated Melmarc. Whatever was on her mind must¡¯ve been so strong that she couldn¡¯t pretend to be normal.


    ¡°Please stop frowning,¡± Melmarc¡¯s mother said.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes moved to look at her. The mother he knew would simply tell him to stop smiling. There would be no please, but she would be nice about it.


    Now I get the please.


    Melmarc discarded the thought. One problem at a time, he told himself.


    ¡°So,¡± his mother said. ¡°What do you want to do about it?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Personally, I don¡¯t care. I have no idea who they are.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s easy.¡± His mother leaned back, resting her back against his father¡¯s large frame. ¡°In the world, there are people called Oaths¡­¡±


    Melmarc already knew about Oaths, but he didn¡¯t stop her.


    ¡°They are technically the strongest Gifted,¡± his mother continued. ¡°And while there aren¡¯t a lot of us, there are still more Oaths than we know. At least more Oaths than I know. Anyway, every Oath has their problems, and we generally don¡¯t get along.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    His mother¡¯s lips puckered in thought. ¡°I can¡¯t really say for certain, but we all have different¡­ opinions. And we have very strong opinions. It tends to lead to disagreements a lot.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows drew together in thought. Veebee said that he would need to work with the Oaths.


    If they are basically adults that can¡¯t work together, how am I supposed to work with them?


    ¡°But,¡± his mother said, drawing his attention. ¡°Inevitability is one of the good ones.¡±


    ¡°Good ones?¡± Ark asked suspiciously.


    Their mother turned to give him a nod. ¡°Yes, Ark. Good ones.¡±


    ¡°Good ones implies that there are bad ones,¡± Ark pointed out.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± their mother stretched the word thoughtfully. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t necessarily say that there are¡ª¡±


    ¡°Careful,¡± Dorthna interrupted her with the most casual tone. ¡°One of the perks of being what Mel is is gaining a lot of things. Right now, he¡¯s a lot like your husband.¡±


    Their mother blinked. Her attention swiveled from Dorthna to Melmarc.


    ¡°I can tell when people are lying,¡± he told her. ¡°I think it¡¯s a little more complicated than that, but it¡¯s basically it.¡±


    She paused. ¡°Oh.¡±


    Ark, however, sported one of the brightest smirks Melmarc had ever seen on him. ¡°So there are bad Oaths.¡±


    Their mother let out a tired sigh and shot him a chiding glare. ¡°Tar¡¯arkna North Lockwood, wipe that smirk off your face before I wipe it off for you.¡±


    Ark snapped straight into composure. His smirk was gone faster than it had come. ¡°Yes, mom.¡±


    Dorthna looked from Ark to their mother as if it was the most curious thing.


    ¡°You know,¡± he said to no one in particular. ¡°In some places, kids lose all forms of respect the moment they get their Class. Especially if it¡¯s more powerful than their parents¡¯. If it has the potential to be more powerful, the same thing happens.¡±


    ¡°Well, this is the Lockwood house,¡± their mother pointed out. ¡°He can be the devil himself and he¡¯ll still have to obey the rules.¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s gaze slid over to Ark very slowly. ¡°Does he really?¡±


    To Melmarc¡¯s surprise, he saw a moment of consideration cross Ark¡¯s eyes. Is he really thinking about it?


    Ark caught Melmarc¡¯s attention on him and whatever consideration Melmarc had seen disappeared.


    ¡°Don¡¯t go dreaming about it, kiddo,¡± Dorthna said to Ark. ¡°I definitely won¡¯t step in if your mom decides to beat you into next Christmas.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m stupid and reckless,¡± Ark replied. ¡°But I¡¯m not that stupid and reckless. Besides, Ninra¡¯ll probably get to me before mom does.¡±


    Their mother adjusted in her chair and the sound the action made drew everyone¡¯s attention back to her.


    ¡°As I was saying,¡± she said, pulling everyone back to the conversation, ¡°Ark is right, there are bad Oaths. Before I left the whole Oath thing, we knew of at least three Oaths that weren¡¯t very good people. Pride, Strength, and¡ª¡±


    ¡°Greed,¡± Dorthna jumped in. ¡°But don¡¯t worry about Greed. Greeds are always destined to be terrible Oaths societally speaking.¡±


    Remembering Eroms, Melmarc asked, ¡°Is there such a thing as the Oath of Gluttony?¡±


    He knew he was jumping too far ahead but it felt better knowing that he would have to deal with the Oaths if one of them was already his friend.


    ¡°There¡¯s an Oath for almost any concept you humans can conceive,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°If there isn¡¯t an Oath of Gluttony right now, then there will be eventually.¡±


    ¡°No Oath of Gluttony,¡± his mother confirmed. ¡°Not that we know of.¡±


    ¡°Hold up.¡± Ark turned to look at Dorthna. ¡°The Oath of Greed is always bad?¡±


    ¡°Well, societal values work in a funny way and greed is one concept that cannot work with society.¡±


    ¡°Because greed is greedy?¡±


    Dorthna snapped a finger at him. ¡°Exactly. All it wants to do is take. There¡¯s nothing else to it than taking. In simpler terms, sometimes people do things for some reason, to sow chaos, for vengeance, for power. Other people don¡¯t care, they just want to watch the world burn. Greed isn¡¯t motivated by anything but the will to take. They can, so they will. If they can¡¯t, it won¡¯t stop them from trying.¡±


    ¡°So, Oath of Greed is bad,¡± Ark concluded. ¡°Got it.¡±


    Dorthna chuckled. ¡°Such a black and white method of explanation. But it should suffice¡­ for now.¡±


    Melmarc looked at their mother. ¡°So, if I allow this message go through, all the Oaths will get it?¡±


    ¡°No exception,¡± their mother confirmed.


    ¡°And there¡¯s no way to pick and choose who gets it and who doesn¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°None.¡±


    That felt very lacking. A messaging system that couldn¡¯t pick and choose who to send messages to was just very inefficient. It was like a chatting app with group chats but no private messaging.


    ¡°So, am I allowing it?¡± Melmarc looked between his mom and dad.


    True to form, his father looked as if he couldn¡¯t be bothered by it. Whether he allowed it or not was not his father¡¯s problem. Sometimes it felt as if his father lived by the simplest rule; you do what you will and their father would do what he could do about it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about your dad,¡± their mother said, clearly reading his expression. ¡°He doesn¡¯t care about these things. I know how much I had to work to get him to attend.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so the fact that someone gets it doesn¡¯t mean that they¡¯ll attend?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°We rarely get up to fifteen Oaths in attendance normally,¡± his mother answered. ¡°We used to get more many years ago but we lost a lot of Oaths during a specific portal run. Our numbers have been dwindled ever since.¡±


    ¡°Many years ago?¡± Melmarc¡¯s thoughts acted up almost immediately. ¡°How many years ago?¡±


    ¡°About thirty years ago. Why?¡±


    Melmarc had an idea of what she was talking about. Delano¡¯s most mysterious conspiracy theory was about a group of Delvers who ruled the world from behind the scenes. Apparently, there had been a specifically terrible portal that had opened up somewhere in the north pole.


    From what he and his dark web companions¡¯ research had turned up, twelve very powerful Delvers had gone into the portal but only four had come out. Why it had made its way into the conspiracy theory was because while the governments of the world had warned of how powerful it was and had sent in Delvers that they¡¯d handpicked, despite the loses, there had been no changes to the ranking list at the time.


    ¡°Was that the portal at the north pole?¡± Melmarc asked.


    His mother made a surprised face. ¡°Yes. I didn¡¯t think many people knew about that. How did you¡ªoh. Delano.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna barked a short and amused laugh. ¡°Thirty years ago. I remember that one. Those were good times.¡±


    ¡°You were a part of that, Uncle D?¡± Ark asked.


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°I most certainly was.¡±


    ¡°About this meeting,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°Do the bad Oaths attend?¡±


    ¡°No. But, like I said, a lot of Oaths don¡¯t attend.¡±


    ¡°Do I have to attend?¡±


    Their dad shook his head. ¡°You will not attend.¡±


    His words were as simple as they were final. While everyone present took it with a finality, their mother smacked their father¡¯s arm. Regardless, she didn¡¯t say anything to him.


    She turned to Melmarc, instead. ¡°Why do you ask, though?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the [August Intruder].¡± He shrugged. ¡°I just assumed I would end up being a part of it.¡±


    ¡°An [August Intruder],¡± Uncle Dorthna corrected. ¡°Specificity is very important.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m an [August Intruder],¡± Melmarc rectified.


    His mother leaned forward. ¡°And do you want to attend?¡±


    ¡°Dad said I won¡¯t.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s not the question I asked, Mel. Do you want to attend?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s gaze moved to his father. There was no reaction on the man¡¯s expression, not that it surprised him.


    But did he want to attend, though? What was in it for him?


    You get to meet the powers that be, he told himself. And since you¡¯re going to meet them, anyway, why not just get it out of the way?


    It was logical, but it was also very risky.


    ¡°Will you and dad be attending?¡± he asked.


    ¡°They want us to,¡± his mother answered. ¡°One of them has already contacted me, asking me to bring your dad along.¡±


    ¡°Must be really desperate if they¡¯re inviting you,¡± Dorthna said with a chuckle. ¡°Let me guess, she got on your husband¡¯s bad side.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Melmarc¡¯s father muttered a single word. ¡°Shield.¡±


    As empty as the word sounded coming from him, it sounded too empty. It was as if his tone designed the word as a hollow shell. Something that was simply existing because no one had broken it yet.


    ¡°Is that the Oath that got in your way?¡± Uncle Dorthna asked.


    Ark perked up so suddenly that Melmarc couldn¡¯t stop his attention from snapping to his brother.


    ¡°Are we going to be fighting Oaths?¡± he asked, enthusiastic.


    Their mother pointed a cautionary finger at him. ¡°No one¡¯s fighting anyone.¡±


    Ark deflated slightly, then shrugged as if it didn¡¯t really matter.


    Dorthna gave him a cautioning look. ¡°I can guess how nice it must feel, but you¡¯ll need to keep those emotions in check, Ark. Don¡¯t make me teach you control.¡±


    Ark nodded very carefully and Melmarc wondered what that had been about.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question, Mel,¡± his mother said, regaining his attention. ¡°Do you want to attend? Do you want to meet the Oaths.¡±


    With bad Oaths running around, Melmarc knew one thing for certain. He was too weak to go delivering himself to the Oaths. For all he knew, they could all have varying opinions on his existence.


    The last thing he wanted was to get caught up in an argument between powerful people. After all, as Dorthna had already pointed out, he was weak.


    ¡°Not really,¡± he answered finally. ¡°I don¡¯t think I want to.¡±


    His mother nodded slowly. ¡°Well, we don¡¯t have to if you don¡¯t want to.¡±


    ¡°But we are going,¡± his father said.


    Melmarc¡¯s mother looked at him. ¡°You sure you want to go? You never want to go.¡±


    ¡°Shield must be punished.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Melmarc¡¯s mother frowned. ¡°She must be.¡±


    Melmarc thought he saw something in her eyes or heard something in her voice, but he couldn¡¯t be sure. The smile on Dorthna¡¯s face, however, was something he did not miss.


    ¡°Allow the message go through,¡± his mother said. ¡°There has to be an invite for a meeting to happen.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, pulling up the notification and choosing a response.


    [Permission requirement detected!]


    [Your Oath of Inevitability wishes to send a system message to all Oaths of your world.]


    [There are no system protocols in place detected.]


    [Would you like to allow system message to be sent?]


    ¡­


    [Grant permission to send system message.]


    [Y/N]


    Yes.


    A new notification popped up at his response.


    [You have chosen to permit message ¡®The [August Intruder] has arrived. Meet at 4893 Lagos Street, Abuja, Nigeria to discuss further issues regarding this matter¡¯]


    ¡­


    [Grant permission to send system message?]


    [Y/N]


    Melmarc paused. ¡°I can see the message.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± his mother sounded surprised. ¡°What does it say?¡±


    ¡°That they are meeting in Nigeria to discuss me.¡±


    His mother frowned.


    Dorthna let out a tired sigh. ¡°Just grant it. I don¡¯t see the big deal. It¡¯s not like we didn¡¯t know it was going to be about you. We should hurry this along, I¡¯ve got things to do.¡±


    Melmarc agreed and granted permission.


    [Permission granted!]


    [Your Oath of Inevitability has sent system message ¡®The [August Intruder] has arrived. Meet at 4893 Lagos Street, Abuja, Nigeria to discuss further issues regarding this matter¡¯ to 26 Oaths.]


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°There are twenty-six Oaths?¡±


    ¡°I did not know that,¡± his mother said. ¡°I thought there were only like sixteen. It means that there must be new Oaths.¡± She looked at her husband. ¡°Do you know anything about the new Oaths?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s father shrugged in disinterest and their mother gave him a fond smile as if she¡¯d expected the response.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Dorthna clapped his hands together and rubbed them like a man with a plan. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve gotten that out of the way, what¡¯s next? Please say it¡¯s my turn.¡±


    ¡°Your turn?¡± Melmarc asked, confused. ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°Not your turn yet,¡± his mother interrupted.


    Dorthna frowned and Ark raised his hand. ¡°I¡¯ve been quiet for a very long time,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to feel a little neglected over here.¡±


    ¡°Would you like to talk about your [Demon King] class?¡± their mother asked.


    Ark made a face, then lowered his hand. ¡°I¡¯m more than happy to have Mel keep all the attention.¡±


    Melmarc snorted. ¡°Wuss.¡±


    Ark wiggled his brows at him in triumph and sat back.


    Their mother looked between the both of them and sighed. ¡°At least it¡¯s good to see that you kids haven¡¯t changed at all.¡±


    ¡°We got taller,¡± Ark pointed out.


    ¡°And your sister will be more than happy to compliment you on your new height,¡± their mom said. ¡°At this point, everyone¡¯s going to take one look at the both of you and think you¡¯re tankers of some kind.¡±


    ¡°Misrepresentation is also a strategy to victory,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°If they¡¯re wrong, we have a winning chance.¡±


    Dorthna chuckled. ¡°Look at him, already thinking about whooping ass. They grow up so fast. Still doesn¡¯t answer the question, though. What¡¯s next?¡±


    Melmarc looked at his mother, but it was his father that answered.


    ¡°The [Sage].¡±


    Their mother¡¯s gaze narrowed in suspicion. ¡°The [Sage]?¡±


    Their father nodded.


    ¡°Wait a minute.¡± She turned to Melmarc. ¡°How do you know Naymondeel?¡±


    This was the first time that Melmarc was ever hearing someone call Naymond by the name the system had shown him.


    ¡°Mr. Hitchcock was a part of my mentorship program,¡± he answered.


    His mother massaged her forehead with the heel of her palm as if she was suddenly tired. ¡°Please tell me he was not the one in charge.¡±


    ¡°He was not,¡± Melmarc said quickly. ¡°But he was given delegated power.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess. He played a large part in you ending up inside a portal.¡±


    ¡°He also came in after me,¡± Melmarc offered, hoping it would help Naymond¡¯s case somehow. The [Sage] was reckless, but he would be lying if he said he hadn¡¯t grown fond of him.


    Naymond had also taught him a few things about his skills.


    ¡°And where is Naymondeel right now?¡± his mother asked.


    ¡°Dad left him with the cops when we got out of the portal.¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, he¡¯s in jail,¡± his mother said with some relief. ¡°So, why is he next?¡±


    ¡°Because he has chosen to seek sanctuary from our son,¡± Melmarc¡¯s father answered.


    Ark leaned towards Dorthna and asked, ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± Dorthna didn¡¯t take his eyes off Melmarc and his parents.


    ¡°Sanctuary,¡± Ark clarified. ¡°And [Sages].¡±


    ¡°Sanctuary is safety and [Sages] are an interestingly annoying class.¡±


    Ark sighed. ¡°It¡¯s like everyone¡¯s just ignoring me today.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s not your turn yet,¡± Dorthna said with a chuckle. ¡°Trust me, once your turn comes, you¡¯ll be in deep shit. Remember, you have two family members that can tell when you¡¯re lying.¡±


    Ark gulped visibly and Dorthna grinned.


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°That idiot,¡± Melmarc¡¯s mother muttered. ¡°What gives him the right to seek sanctuary.¡±


    ¡°I want to grant it,¡± Melmarc cut in suddenly.


    His mother¡¯s attention snapped to him immediately. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I want to grant him sanctuary,¡± Melmarc repeated. ¡°He might not be the most responsible, but he¡¯s note a terrible person. Or is there something I should know that I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a price for everything, Mel,¡± his mother said slowly. ¡°I granted him sanctuary once upon a time and it came at a cost.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the cost?¡±


    His mother looked from him to his father, then Dorthna. It was almost as if she was asking the other two for help. She sighed when nobody jumped in to help her.


    ¡°If you grant him sanctuary,¡± she said, ¡°it means that you have to give him tasks, quests. You have to keep him active. Which means that you either send him into portals or give him quests to complete.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t send him into portals so how do I give him quests?¡±


    ¡°Giving him quests is not the problem,¡± his mother pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s rewarding him that¡¯s the problem. If you give him quests, how do you give him system rewards.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged.


    ¡°I had to make sacrifices for that to happen,¡± his mother told him. ¡°I had to sacrifice my growth for his growth. Giving him sanctuary will ensure his safety, but it will weaken you. Your dad and I were the slowest growing Oaths because of him and your uncle Dorthna.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s gaze shifted slightly. ¡°Because of Uncle Dorthna?¡±


    Dorthna made a shooing gesture at him. ¡°Not my turn yet, kiddo.¡±


    ¡°And what do you think about the whole [Sage] thing?¡± Melmarc found himself asking Dorthna.


    Once upon a time they had asked their uncle Dorthna questions about the Gifted because their parents were not around and they¡¯d believed that he was a retired Delver. Now, whatever he was, they asked him questions because it looked like he knew more than their parents.


    ¡°[Sages] are interesting creatures,¡± Dorthna said casually, uninterested. ¡°They are capable of doing things that normal classes can¡¯t do. Personally, I think everyone should know at least one [Sage]. If you can get one that you can trust, get them.¡±


    Melmarc looked at his parents as if that was all the answer he needed.


    ¡°Besides,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°It might slow your growth but it really won¡¯t be as terrible as what happened with your mother. You are quite literally equipped with making people stronger.¡±


    At uncle Dorthna¡¯s words, Melmarc remembered what Veebee had told him.


    ¡°[EP],¡± he muttered.


    His mother¡¯s attention sharpened on him. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°A perk of being an [August Intruder],¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°It helps him grow as well as grow others.¡±


    Melmarc could use it to grant Naymond skill and stat growth. For every quest he completed, he could just reward the [Sage] with some [EP].


    ¡°That means I have to be entering portals,¡± he said to himself.


    Dorthna cocked a brow. ¡°That¡¯s not the only way to gain [EP], though.¡±


    Melmarc remembered Veebee saying something about being able to gain [EP] as if it was supposed to be the easiest thing.


    Everything has [EP].


    Dorthna¡¯s hand snapped out very suddenly, snatching something from the air. He got up, moved to the center table and placed his hand on it. When he removed his hand, there was a housefly on the table.


    Melmarc frowned at it. He was almost a hundred percent certain that there had been no housefly in the room throughout their conversation.


    Either he summoned it somehow or I¡¯m wrong.


    Whichever it was, that was not what was important.


    Ark cocked a brow. ¡°A housefly.¡±


    Dorthna gave him the flattest expression Melmarc had ever seen. ¡°Yes, Ark. A housefly.¡±


    ¡°And what are we doing with the housefly?¡± Melmarc asked. A part of him felt like he already had the answer to the specific question.


    Dorthna¡¯s response was simple. ¡°Kill it.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow at him but got up from his seat and approached the table. Somehow he found it interesting that he was more interested in how Dorthna had gotten the housefly than why his uncle wanted him to kill it.


    The housefly sat very casually on the table, looking at nothing.


    Melmarc smacked it casually with his hand.


    His interface popped up.


    [You have slain Housefly]


    [You have gained EP 0.0002]


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    It seemed Veebee had meant it literally. Everything had [EP].


    I just have to be willing to kill it.


    ¡°If that had been a person,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Would you have killed them?¡±


    Melmarc blanked. The answer was very obvious. ¡°No.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°Remember that.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure what that was about. There was certainly a difference between killing a housefly and killing a human being.


    Dorthna smiled fondly at him. ¡°It seems difficult and doesn¡¯t make sense right now, right?¡±


    ¡°Honestly,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t.¡±


    His mother was very quiet.


    ¡°And it won¡¯t until far into the future,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°If you live long enough. One day, you could become so powerful that a simple human will become as insignificant to you as a housefly plucked out of thin air. You didn¡¯t kill it because you were cruel or evil. You killed it because it was insignificant. It did not matter.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Melmarc agreed. ¡°But a person isn¡¯t insignificant. A person matters.¡±


    ¡°Now,¡± Dorthna said in correction. ¡°A person matters now. One day, they will not. You¡¯re a logical kid so I can ask this without expecting a stupid reply from you. If killing one man will save the world, will you do it?¡±


    Melmarc frowned. He didn¡¯t like the fact that his uncle had just told him that any other answer than the one expected of him would be stupid. Regardless, he knew himself, and he knew the answer he was going to give.


    He had never been one to argue for argument¡¯s sake. If killing one man would save the world, the response was a no brainer.


    ¡°If it will save the world, then as difficult as it sounds, yes,¡± he said. ¡°If the person doesn¡¯t die, then the whole world dies, and the person dies, regardless.¡±


    His mother let out a quiet breath, but Melmarc heard it.


    ¡°And right there, in that moment,¡± Dorthna said, ¡°a person has become insignificant. Given the right circumstances, Mel, even a person can become insignificant. If you ever come to wield great enough power, even an Oath can become insignificant.¡±


    Melmarc squinted at his uncle, unable to stop himself. Is that regret in his voice?


    ¡°Remember that,¡± Dorthna said in the end.


    A strong silence settled over the room. There was something heavy about it, something powerful. It was as if an important moment in Melmarc¡¯s life had just taken place.


    Ark broke the silence.


    ¡°So a housefly is significant?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Insects are insignificant. People, too, if we are being honest.¡±


    ¡°But you just told me that I should never think of them as insignificant,¡± Melmarc said, confused.


    ¡°That¡¯s because you¡¯re people, too. Insects don¡¯t think that insects are insignificant, so you should never think that people are insignificant. Anyway, get yourself a [Sage], they are an amusing class. As for how you intend to reward his quests,¡± Dorthna pointed at the dead housefly, ¡°I¡¯ve shown you how to increase your supply of [EP] to reward him.¡± He looked at their parents. ¡°I take it that should solve the [Sage] problem, correct?¡±


    Their mother was frowning, but she nodded. ¡°It does. The only problem now would be dealing with the man¡¯s personality. Mel¡¯s too straightforward while Naymondeel is completely sly.¡±


    Melmarc could not disagree with that. The man had a bad habit of saying ten different things when he only meant one thing. It made him a hard man to understand or follow.


    He had me arranging other people¡¯s offices without even knowing what was really happening, he thought, remembering the early days of his mentorship program.


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± his mother said with a gesture. ¡°Accept his request. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll get a notification wherever he is.¡±


    Melmarc thought of Naymond¡¯s request, and his interface popped up in front of him.


    [Player Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B) requests Oath sanctuary]


    ¡­


    [As an August Intruder you are currently granted partial Oath rights to your world.]


    [You meet the qualifications to grant a Guest or Intruder temporary sanctuary.]


    [Would you like to grant Player Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B) sanctuary?]


    [Y/N?]


    Yes.


    [You cannot renege on this decision. However, you can always withdraw offered sanctuary in the event that Player Naymondeel Art Hitchcock(Sage)(B) proves detrimental to you or your world.]


    ¡°Oh,¡± Melmarc muttered after reading it.


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡± his mother asked.


    He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s just telling me that I can always withdraw the offer of sanctuary.¡±


    ¡°You can?¡± His mother sounded surprised. ¡°I didn¡¯t get that option. He was mine and that was that.¡±


    ¡°So how did you keep him in line?¡± Ark asked.


    Their mother shrugged. ¡°Threat of bodily harm. He was a prisoner, after all.¡±


    Ark grinned. ¡°Nice.¡±


    ¡°Is it my turn now?¡± Dorthna asked lazily.


    ¡°Not yet,¡± their mother answered. ¡°You have until the end of the week.¡±


    ¡°The week ends in two days,¡± Melmarc offered.


    ¡°Then he has two days.¡±


    Dorthna looked at their mother like a parent looking at a petulant child. If Melmarc hadn¡¯t already met Veebee and known what he currently knew, it would¡¯ve seemed disrespectful.


    Dorthna got and dusted his pants. ¡°If anyone needs me, I¡¯ll be in the kitchen getting a cup of hot water.¡±


    With that, he was gone.


    He cut through the living room and made his way for the dining area, from there he would find the kitchen. The moment he was out of sight, Ark turned to their parents.


    ¡°What is Uncle Dorthna?¡± he asked in a quiet voice. ¡°Is he like a demi-god or something?¡±


    Their mother snorted. ¡°Definitely an or something, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°You¡­¡± Ark raised his brows in surprise. ¡°You don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°He is a mystery,¡± their father said simply.


    Their mother leaned forward to from side to side as if it would help her tell if Uncle Dorthna was listening to them.


    ¡°Once upon a time we went into a portal that led to angels,¡± she said.


    Ark and Melmarc perked up at that.


    ¡°That¡¯s where we found him,¡± their mother said. ¡°He was locked up somewhere. He¡¯s not a bad person, but be careful with him. He knows far too much, and he is definitely a threat. He¡¯s just not a threat to us right now. For whatever reason, I think he wants something from us.¡±


    ¡°So he was a prisoner?¡±


    ¡°Not just a prisoner,¡± their mother explained. ¡°We saw different prisons with different cells and prisoners. Your Uncle had his own cell in his own section in his own prison. He had an entire prison built just for him.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Melmarc looked from Ark to his mother and asked, ¡°Why are we whispering?¡±


    Ark opened his mouth to answer then closed it.


    It wasn¡¯t like whispering would somehow make it so that their uncle wouldn¡¯t hear them. Ark and their uncle had heard their mother pull into the street when she¡¯d returned home. If he could hear that far, then he could definitely hear people whispering about him.


    ¡°Now that you point it out,¡± Ark said. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡±


    Their mother shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s not listening.¡±


    ¡°He does not eavesdrop.¡± There was enough certainty in their father¡¯s voice for Melmarc to believe him.


    Dorthna walked in a moment later with a mug of hot water held with both hands. He strolled in casually, sipping at it as if the cup held something actually interesting and not just hot water. He ended up beside Ark and took a seat.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s next?¡± he asked.


    When nobody said anything immediately, he looked between them.


    ¡°Did I miss something?¡±


    ¡°We were talking about you,¡± their father said to everyone¡¯s surprise.


    Dorthna chuckled. ¡°Terrible things, I hope. Have you told them about your upgrades, Mel?¡±


    ¡°Upgrades?¡± his mother asked.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve got a few. I also have a skill that didn¡¯t evolve or give me an alternative at ten percent.¡±


    Dorthna waved his words aside with a casual gesture before his mother could say anything. ¡°That¡¯s not a big deal.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°But I thought skills are supposed to evolve at ten percent.¡±


    Dorthna cocked a brow. ¡°Supposed to? Do you have some interface handbook I don¡¯t know about that says all skills evolve at ten percent?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just that skills evolve at ten percent.¡±


    ¡°That skills evolve every ten percent doesn¡¯t mean that skills are supposed to evolve every ten percent. When your skill increases by ten percent your interface offers you an evolution. Your interface, however, never said that your skill will always upgrade every ten percent, did it?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°Then there¡¯s your answer.¡± Dorthna paused to take another sip of his hot water. ¡°Skills evolve whenever they evolve. If it doesn¡¯t evolve at ten percent, then that means that it¡¯s a strong skill. Which one hasn¡¯t evolved?¡±


    Melmarc hesitated. ¡°[Rings of Saturn].¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Dorthna nodded in a sign of interest. ¡°You took it in the end. I guess it¡¯s no surprise that it hasn¡¯t evolved. Pure mana skills are usually very powerful. It might evolve at twenty percent, though.¡±


    ¡°I guess that answers that,¡± his mother said. ¡°Your skills are what¡¯s next. What do you have to deal with?¡±


    ¡°Five percent of mastery to be added to any skill of my choice,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°And around thirty stat points to allocate.¡±


    Ark gave a low whistle. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of stat points. You¡¯re going to be a walking monster at this rate.¡±


    Melmarc raised a brow at him. ¡°Says the [Demon King].¡±


    Ark wiggled his brows in satisfaction.


    ¡°Enough of that, boys,¡± their mother interrupted. ¡°Mel, if you¡¯re upgrading your stats, it is advisable to upgrade them in relationship to your skills. It is what helps. Grow your stats according to your class.¡±


    ¡°Such human thinking,¡± Dorthna muttered in disappointment.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Dorthna sat forward. ¡°You are not a [Faker]. You are an [August Intruder]. There¡¯s a difference. Upgrade your stats based on what you want to be physically and everything else will fall in line.¡±


    Melmarc looked at his parents and the both of them nodded. It was reluctant but he knew the reluctance was more out of the realization that his mother was wrong than any form of disagreement.


    ¡°So, it begs the question,¡± his mother said. ¡°What do you want to be?¡±


    ¡°Mana based, Agility based¡­¡± Ark paused for dramatic effect as a slow smile spread his lips. ¡°Or Strength based?¡±

 NINETY-EIGHT: Touch Of Uranus

    Melmarc sat down thinking about it, really thinking about it.


    What did he really want to be?


    ¡°And please don¡¯t say mana based,¡± Uncle Dorthna chipped in.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°But why?¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a [Faker] and an [August Intruder]. Your mana is going to increase by default from just being those. Unless your plan is to beat the record of having the highest mana count.¡±


    ¡°Can I be an all-rounder?¡± Melmarc looked to his parents. ¡°Big, strong and fast. Can I do that?¡±


    His mother shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. I¡¯m big strong and fast.¡±


    Dorthna made a sound that was filled with disagreement. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call a [Dreadnought] fast.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fast enough.¡±


    ¡°Mel could be faster,¡± Dorthna said with a nonchalant shrug. ¡°Just saying.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s a yes?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m big, strong and fast,¡± Ark said.


    Dorthna snorted. ¡°Every [Demon King] is big, strong and fast. I¡¯d be ashamed of you if you weren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°See,¡± Ark said, turning his attention to Melmarc. ¡°You can be big strong and fast.¡±


    Taking a deep breath, Ark knew exactly what he wanted to do.


    He pulled up his stats and his [EP].


    Stats


    [Agility 4, Balance 6, Mental 3, Mana 5, Strength 5, Dexterity 3, Accuracy 3, Speed 2]


    ¡­


    [EP 6503]


    [1 stat point = 200 EP]


    [1% Mastery = 250 EP]


    He took his time making his allocations, pausing to think a little each time. Everyone in the living room sat quietly as he worked. He noticed how their expressions shifted in accordance with his own. On more than one occasion Ark had opened his mouth only to be hushed by a look from their mother.


    Dorthna for most of the entire process looked intrigued, as if he hadn¡¯t seen someone use up their [EP] before. Funny enough, sometimes he winced as if he thought that Melmarc was making the wrong decision, sometimes he nodded.


    Finding himself uncomfortable about being read so easily, Melmarc started schooling his expressions as best he could.


    Still, Dorthna reacted to every decision he made. Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised to realize that Dorthna could still read his expression, though.


    He¡¯s known me my whole life.


    As for the allocations, it was quite simple. All he had to do was think of the stat he wanted and it came up automatically allocating the number of points he wanted to give it. With every allocation he made, the stat went up and his [EP] went down.


    ¡°Are you spending everything on your stats?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Melmarc nodded absently.


    ¡°You sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡±


    It was the only time Melmarc paused to look up.


    ¡°He can use it on more than stats?¡± his mother asked.


    ¡°He should be able to use it on his skill mastery as well,¡± Dorthna answered.


    Melmarc had already allocated about half the number of [EP] he had so far. He hadn¡¯t really considered using it on his skill mastery because he had the five percent reward, and he wanted to increase the things that he knew didn¡¯t grow naturally.


    His skills could always grow with use but from what he knew, stats didn¡¯t work that way.


    ¡°If you have anyone close to a threshold, I¡¯d say toss some mastery their way,¡± Dorthna suggested. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t hurt to push beyond and see what happens.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. Pausing on his allocation, he thought of his skills, and they appeared in front of him.


    Skills


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 19.99%)], [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 16.84%)], [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 19.93%)], [Secrecy (Mastery 14.61%)]


    Staring at the skills, he knew which ones were going to get the increment. Just knowing how fast everything was happening to him had him slightly bothered. In barely two months he had gone from a B-rank Gifted with two skills to a B-rank Gifted with four skills.


    Could¡¯ve been six, he thought, staring at [Secrecy] and [Rings of Saturn]. The former had given him no alternative skill option and the latter hadn¡¯t even told him anything.


    ¡°Looks like you already know what you want to do,¡± Dorthna said.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I do, but shouldn¡¯t I tell you what¡ª¡±


    ¡°Only what kind of Delver you want to be,¡± his father said, interrupting him. ¡°No more.¡±


    ¡°Your dad¡¯s right,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°Those you love should have a general knowledge of you, but no one should have the specifics. It¡¯s smart thinking.¡±


    It was, but it just felt wrong to know that his family wouldn¡¯t know. Still, Melmarc understood the reasoning behind it. It sounded like nothing but ¡®trust issues¡¯ but it didn¡¯t change the fact that it was right.


    And I¡¯m going to six skills in the blink of an eye, he thought to himself as he allocated mastery to two skills. That¡¯s if [Rings of Saturn] complies.


    He allocated the points to the skills but didn¡¯t give them too much.


    Just enough to push them over the threshold.


    Then he looked at them with a touch of satisfaction.


    Skills


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 21.99%)], [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 16.84%)], [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 21.93%)], [Secrecy (Mastery 14.61%)]


    [Knowledge is Power] and [Rings of Saturn] had each gotten a two percent increase. Just enough to push them over the twenty percent threshold. As much as he liked to convince himself that he wasn¡¯t expecting anything from [Rings of Saturn], the truth was that he actually was.


    Melmarc found himself hoping that [Rings of Saturn] would give him something now that it was over twenty percent.


    ¡°Made your pick?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Melmarc nodded, returning his attention to his stats. The fact that the increase to his skills hadn¡¯t done anything meant that whatever he had done was yet to take effect.


    It didn¡¯t take long to be done with his stats. When he was, he looked at it, making sure he was satisfied with it.


    Stats


    [Agility 4 -> 8, Balance 6 -> 8, Mental 3 -> 8, Mana 5, Strength 5 -> 11, Dexterity 3 -> 7, Accuracy 3 -> 6, Speed 2 -> 5]


    ...


    [EP 103]


    [1 stat point = 200 EP]


    [1% Mastery = 250 EP]


    With the [EP] he had left, Melmarc believed he could still add to his stats. If [Bless Your Kindness] could add fractions to his stats, he was inclined to believe that his stats could grow in fractions just as easily as they could grow in whole numbers.


    He shook his head as he considered. Let¡¯s not go getting confused.


    Even though a part of him knew that it didn¡¯t matter, Melmarc wasn¡¯t a fan of not being able to keep accurate track of his stats. It was easier to remember that you had four points in strength than remembering that you have four point two points in strength.


    One last thing, he thought, pulling up his five percent mastery reward and allocating it too.


    [Would you like to increase mastery of skill Bless Your Kindness? You cannot renege on this decision.]


    [Y/N]


    Yes.


    As the thought of concluding everything came to mind, a new notification popped up.


    [Would you like to conclude allocation of EP and skill mastery increase? Please note that you cannot renege on your decision.]


    [Y/N]


    ¡°Did you add any new stats?¡± Dorthna asked, gaining Melmarc¡¯s attention before he replied to his interface.


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure you wouldn¡¯t like to add any new one?¡± Dorthna said.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I¡¯m thinking that the ones I have are probably more fitting for me. I¡¯ve got Agility and Strength already, which kinda works in my favor. I just think adding more stats could be me venturing into territories I don¡¯t understand. I don¡¯t want to go handicapping myself.¡±


    Dorthna looked thoughtful before nodding. ¡°Good point.¡±


    Melmarc returned his attention to his interface only to pause as a thought came to mind. He looked through his interface to watch Dorthna.


    He stopped me twice, Melmarc thought. I was adding points to my stat and he pointed out my skills.


    He did his best to hide his expression, hoping that even if Uncle Dorthna could read it, he wouldn¡¯t know what exactly was going through his mind.


    Then he stopped me before I concluded everything. As impossible as the thought he was having was, with Uncle Dorthna, he was beginning to think that impossible shouldn¡¯t apply to him.


    Can he see my interface?


    From everything Melmarc knew, no Gifted could view your interface unless you let them. There were no recorded skills that allowed a person to do it. No known historical knowledge that spoke of anyone ever being able to do it.


    Surprisingly, it was very easy to believe that Dorthna could do it. He¡¯d had his own special prison in heaven, after all.


    Wait. Is he a [Demon King]?


    Melmarc found it surprising how he and Ark hadn¡¯t even thought of it. He already knew that the [Demon King] was up there in importance and power with the [August Intruder], Veebee had practically implied it when it had advised him to befriend a [Demon King].


    And he had his own prison in heaven.


    Everything Melmarc knew about Angels and Demons implied that they were sworn enemies. It would only make sense that a [Demon King] would have their own personal prison.


    ¡°Mel?¡± Dorthna cocked a brow at him. ¡°Done?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Just making sure I¡¯m satisfied with what I¡¯m seeing.¡±


    ¡°I could help,¡± Ark offered, only to be shut down by their mother.


    ¡°No,¡± she said immediately. ¡°This is something he has to do on his own.¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°Fine by me. I¡¯m just saying that he likes to double think and triple think things through. We might end up being here for a while.¡±


    Ark wasn¡¯t wrong. However, he was wrong about them being here for a while.


    Yes, Melmarc thought in response to his interface.


    His interface winked out of existence, surprising him. Well, I can¡¯t say I saw that¡ª


    Melmarc¡¯s hands shot straight for his head. He gripped his head, pinning it together on both sides even before the pain came.


    It erupted inside his head like a terrible thing. It was like falling from a high place and having your head bounce off a solid surface. It was horrible.


    Melmarc gritted his teeth against it, unwilling to cry out.


    He heard movement around him, but his eyes were pinned shut. He wanted to open them and see what was happening but found himself unable to for fear that diverting even the slightest attention to opening his eyes would give the pain some level of leeway to undo him.


    What is it this time? he groaned in pain. What did I do?


    In the distance someone was shouting his name. Something took him by the shoulder and tried to lift him. Melmarc fought against being lifted off the ground. Moving upwards felt as if he was fighting against gravity and losing.


    It worsened the pain.


    His head grew heavier and there was suddenly a ringing in his ears. Then something warm trickled down his cheeks.


    Melmarc bit down harder, clenched his jaws as tight as he possibly could until he feared that his teeth might shatter under the weight of their own force.


    His mind went to the time he¡¯d gained his skills, and he knew that the pain had been easier then. This was far worse than it had been back then.


    Why?


    ¡°Mel, stay with us.¡±


    It was his mother¡¯s voice. He could hear it as if it was echoed from across a great distance yet shouted through something that had muffled it.


    Your hands, Melmarc thought. You¡¯re covering your ears.


    But knowing what the problem was didn¡¯t mean he could suddenly control himself enough to solve it. One thing kept him going, though. Kept him fighting.


    The pain had passed once upon a time, disappeared as if it had never been very abruptly the first time.


    This too will pass.


    As certain as he was of it, Melmarc found himself praying that he wasn¡¯t wrong.


    Then it was gone.


    Melmarc¡¯s hands fell from his ears. He sucked in air through widened nostrils, yet his nostrils drew it in very gently, slow and purposeful. It was almost as if his lungs were acting with a deep level of intelligence.


    It drew in enough air to calm his beating heart but not so much that he would be panting.


    Melmarc gave it a moment before he finally opened his eyes. When he did, he found himself in Ark¡¯s arms.


    Ark smiled down at him. ¡°Just like old times.¡±


    Melmarc and Ark were not the kind of brothers to hug often or remotely be in each other¡¯s arms, so it took Melmarc a while to realize what Ark was talking about.


    The attack.


    For some reason, thinking about it in this moment made him smile. ¡°Like old times.¡±


    The smile on Ark¡¯s face eased slowly and Melmarc noticed that he hadn¡¯t released him yet. ¡°You good?¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s nod was slow. ¡°I¡¯m good.¡± He looked around at everybody else. ¡°Now, be nice enough to put me down.¡±


    Ark chuckled and released him, returning him to the ground very gently.


    Melmarc had no idea how he¡¯d gotten to the ground, but he couldn¡¯t say that he was surprised. He pushed himself up to his feet while everyone watched him carefully. His mother¡¯s face screamed worry. His father had discomfort.


    As for Uncle Dorthna, the man merely looked skeptical.


    Melmarc returned to his chair and pulled up his interface. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I promise.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not fine, Mel.¡± His mother shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding.¡±


    Even though his interface was up, Melmarc ignored it to check on himself. A quick glance didn¡¯t reveal any injury or blood.


    He looked up to tell his mother that he saw nothing when he saw his uncle. Dorthna had a finger gently placed against his cheek.


    Slowly, Melmarc touched his cheek. It was wet. When he took his hand from his cheek, it came away bloody.


    That¡¯s new.


    ¡°I promise you I feel fine,¡± he said to his parents. ¡°I don¡¯t feel anything wrong.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean that nothing¡¯s wrong,¡± Ark said with a worried voice.


    Melmarc was a bit surprised by that. Ark was the one who never batted an eye no matter how many times Spitfire had bitten him when he¡¯d gotten the demon.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Still, Ark was always prone to treating him like some kind of fragile egg. As children, Ark had always had a problem with Melmarc¡¯s legs hanging off the side of the bed when they slept as if there was some monster under the bed that ate feet.


    Shaking the thought, Melmarc turned his attention to his interface. ¡°I promise I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your mana stat right now?¡± Dorthna asked.


    The notifications on his interface took his attention before Melmarc could check on his stats.


    [Anomaly detected]


    [Foreign mana detected]


    [August Intruder, Melmarc Jay Lockwood is mana poisoned]


    [High levels of pure mana detected]


    ¡­


    [Purge in Process]


    [Purge failed]


    ¡­


    [Seeking alternate solution]


    ¡­


    [Alternate solution found]


    [Attempting alternate solution]


    [Attempting to convert mana source]


    [Conversion is in effect]


    ¡­


    [Conversion is in effect]


    ¡­


    [Conversion complete]


    Melmarc almost laughed as he read his notifications. Once upon a time he had assimilated foreign mana.


    Now I¡¯m converting pure mana.


    [Due to detected and resolved anomaly, re-calculations have been made]


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, due to high levels of pure mana detected conversion has occurred?]


    ¡­


    [Congratulations! You have gained Pure Mana.]


    Melmarc¡¯s brows drew together in confusion as he read the message. Did that mean that whatever mana he used to have had been changed to pure mana?


    If yes, then what did that mean for him? How did this affect him?


    Mana stats, he thought quickly, pulling up his stats.


    Stats


    [Agility 4 -> 8, Balance 6 -> 8, Mental 3 -> 8, Mana 5 -> 21, Strength 5 -> 11, Dexterity 3 -> 7, Accuracy 3 -> 6, Speed 2 -> 5]


    His stat update had yet to take effect, but his jaw almost dropped at his mana stats. Sixteen points.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was looking at.


    But wh¡ª


    His mind shot straight to Norman, the man from the other world, and what Veebee had done. He¡¯d taken a bite from the man¡¯s ring of mana and had given something to Melmarc before he¡¯d returned home.


    Was this it? A boost to his mana stat?


    Veebee had acted as if whatever he had done would give Melmarc more than just a boost to his mana stats.


    Melmarc ran a hand through his hair. A lot of things just keep happening.


    [Pending upgrades to stats and skills detected]


    [Would you like to finalize upgrade?]


    [Y/N]


    Melmarc stared suspiciously at his interface. Are you going to make me cry blood again?


    Unsurprisingly, no answer came.


    Melmarc took a deep breath. ¡°My mana increased,¡± he said, answering Uncle Dorthna.


    Uncle Dorthna made a sound that implied that he was not surprised. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you should be worried or thankful. That void-beast of yours has been taken risks. Calculated risks, but risks, regardless.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth, then closed it. He frowned before opening it again.


    ¡°What kind of risks?¡± he asked, hoping Veebee hadn¡¯t been risking his life.


    ¡°Well,¡± Uncle Dorthna said, ¡°what you just experienced isn¡¯t something that you should be going through at B-rank. So either the thing just risked your life or it¡­ It could¡¯ve just had you drink your enemy¡¯s blood, instead,¡± he muttered almost to himself. ¡°That would¡¯ve been safer.¡±


    So, it was whatever it did with Norman.


    ¡°It did,¡± he said.


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Dorthna sighed. ¡°You said no.¡±


    Melmarc shivered visibly at the thought of drinking someone¡¯s blood. ¡°I¡¯m not a cannibal.¡±


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°True. Well, let¡¯s just be happy you survived.¡± He got up and placed his empty mug of hot water on the table. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with and move on to the next part of this whole thing.¡±


    Patience was usually one of Dorthna¡¯s strong points. His lack of patience today was slightly worrying. It was as if he¡¯d had all the patience in the world during their entire life but now suddenly had no patience at all.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t address it, though. Instead, he faced his interface and finalized everything. The moment he agreed, all the notifications winked out of existence and he got a new one.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Base mastery is at 20%]


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 21.99%)].


    [Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?]


    Acquire a new skill.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    Yes.


    [Echo Location]


    The Gifted releases a pulse of mana that grants them knowledge of every living thing within a specific distance


    [Mana Dilation]


    The Gifted releases a pulse of mana that increases the cooldown time of active skills used by the enemy by 50%.


    [Mana Lock]


    The Gifted has a 60% chance of delaying an opponent¡¯s skill activation by one second for every successful blow dealt.


    [Echo Location] was basically the same thing as [Knowledge is Power] so there was no way he was picking it. That left him with two options.


    ¡°One of my skills has hit twenty percent,¡± he said to everyone present.


    His mother sat up with a proud smile on her face. She looked like a mother who¡¯d just witnessed her child take their first step.


    ¡°How many skills do you get to pick from?¡± she asked, a little excited. ¡°Or do you want to evolve the skill?¡±


    Melmarc definitely wanted one of the new skills. The two he had to pick from sounded interesting. Like [Secrecy] they fell into a category of skills known as disabling skills.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting new skills,¡± Melmarc answered.


    Ark leaned forward, too. ¡°What options do we have?¡±


    Melmarc read all three out to them and Ark snorted.


    ¡°We¡¯re definitely throwing [Echo Location] out the door,¡± Ark said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be in a hurry to discard skills,¡± their mother said in opposition. ¡°It might sound boring, but a good scouting skill can save your life in a portal.¡± She paused then smiled fondly. ¡°I can¡¯t believe the day I¡¯m helping my kids pick a skill is finally here.¡± She trembled visibly with excitement and one hand grabbed their father¡¯s lap and squeezed. ¡°I¡¯m so excited.¡±


    Melmarc caught the pained wince on his father¡¯s face when their mother grabbed his lap. Their mother released him almost immediately, turning to him with an apologetic look.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, babe,¡± she apologized quickly. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Their father placed a gentle hand on her face, silencing her. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±


    Their mother¡¯s smile returned. It was warm and soft. It was like a scene from a romance movie.


    ¡°Children are present,¡± Ark said, breaking whatever moment their parents were experiencing. ¡°I¡¯m too young to be traumatized.¡±


    Their mother made a face at him but chuckled at the same time as she turned away from their father.


    ¡°As I was saying,¡± she said. ¡°While the other two sound good, the [Echo Location] is a good skill to have.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s already got one, though,¡± Ark interrupted. ¡°Right, Mel? What was the name, again?¡± he snapped his finger, trying to remember. ¡°Something about knowledge.¡±


    ¡°[Knowledge is Power],¡± Dorthna said.


    ¡°Oh,¡± their mother muttered. ¡°What does that one do?¡±


    ¡°It allows me know what is around me, within a certain radius,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°While it¡¯s active I can¡¯t be damaged. It also gives me a basic knowledge of a person¡¯s name, class and rank. They get indicators, too. Red for enemy, green for friend, grey for neutral.¡±


    His mother¡¯s lips pursed in interest. ¡°I¡¯m impressed, sounds like a powerful skill. Does a lot of things while keeping you safe.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s also a tricky skill,¡± Ark said. ¡°Even though he can¡¯t be damaged, he actually feels the pain of whatever is done to him.¡±


    Their mother¡¯s head tilted in understanding. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised.¡±


    ¡°I also can¡¯t damage anything as long as I can¡¯t be damaged,¡± Melmarc offered.


    ¡°Then I guess [Echo Location] is out of the picture,¡± his mother agreed with Ark. ¡°That leaves us with [Mana Lock] and [Mana Dilation].¡±


    ¡°Each works for a different style of fighting,¡± their father said. ¡°Proactive or reactive.¡±


    Their mother nodded, patting his leg absently as she looked at Melmarc. ¡°Which one would you say you are?¡± she asked. ¡°Would you like to stop your opponent from using their skill in a fight or delay how long it takes them to use it again?¡±


    Melmarc knew which one he was. He was a [Faker] so it stood to reason that he would benefit more if his opponent used a skill during the fight. It increased the chances that whatever skill he copied from them would be more fitting to a combat scenario.


    Besides, [Mana Lock] is a probability skill, he thought.


    Unless it told him when it took effect, it was little weak on dependability. Also, it implied that for it to work, he had to land a successful blow on his opponent.


    What if I can¡¯t get close to them or I can¡¯t land a blow?


    So [Mana Lock] had him dealing with the probability of probabilities. He had to first find the chance to land a blow. Then just to be safe, he had to land at least two blows to be guaranteed of it taking effect.


    I guess that answers your question.


    ¡°He¡¯s a [Faker],¡± Dorthna said, echoing Melmarc¡¯s thoughts. ¡°The answer sounds obvious.¡±


    Melmarc, Ark and their mother exchanged a look.


    ¡°[Mana Dilation],¡± they said in unison.


    ¡°It only makes sense,¡± Ark said. ¡°If your opponent uses a skill, then you have a skill to pick from.¡±


    ¡°And why bother trying to hit someone when you don¡¯t have to,¡± their mother said.


    It was a rare enough occurrence, so it caught Melmarc by surprise when his father smiled fondly at what had happened.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t help developing a smile of his own. Ninra¡¯s missing.


    [Would you like to choose Mana Dilation? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    Yes.


    [You have selected skill, Mana Dilation. This has been permanently added to your skill list.]


    Curious to know what other hidden perks the skill had, Melmarc didn¡¯t dismiss it when it popped up.


    [Existential Designation August Intruder is in effect]


    [Effect: +3% Mastery to all skills.]


    ¡­


    [Mana Dilation (Mastery 3.00%)]


    While skill is in effect you gain +2 points to Strength stat.


    Conclusion of skill will end increase to Strength stat.


    Conclusion of skill grants decreases the effect of enemy skill by 20% upon next use.


    Affected enemies are highlighted for three minutes.


    Skill perks:


    Strength +1 Balance +1 Mental +4 Mana +3


    A slow smile split Melmarc¡¯s lips.


    This is awesome.


    Not only did the skill disable the enemy, but it also made him stronger for the duration of its activation and still granted him stat increases as its perks.


    ¡°I take it you like what you got,¡± Dorthna said.


    Melmarc nodded.


    He felt powerful. It wasn¡¯t an actual physical feeling but a psychological one. Knowing he¡¯d grown stronger made him feel stronger.


    When he told them what the skill did, Ark started laughing.


    ¡°Oh, God.¡± He wiped at his eyes even though there were no tears. ¡°I¡¯d hate to be the one that gets on your bad side.¡±


    ¡°Did you get another one?¡± his mother asked enthusiastically.


    Melmarc dismissed the skill and wasn¡¯t surprised when another notification popped up.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Base mastery is at 20%]


    [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 21.84%)].


    [Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?]


    Acquire a new skill.


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    Yes


    [Appreciate Your Lenience]


    Conclusion of skill Mana Dilation deals low level mana loss on affected target overtime for eight minutes.


    [Not So Fast]


    Conclusion of skill Mana Dilation deals 0.5 stat decrease to all speed related stats of affected opponents for one minute.


    [Wake Up To Reality]


    Conclusion of skill Mana Dilation increases the focus of the affected target on their interface pop ups by 50%.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t very sure about the last option. At a glance he could assume that it was designed to make the opponent¡¯s interface serve as a distraction which would grant him an advantage in a fight. But it seemed like something that would only be useful against other Gifted.


    Wouldn¡¯t work against monsters.


    That eliminated it from his choices.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got [Not So Fast],¡± he announced. ¡°[Wake Up To Reality] and [Appreciate Your Lenience].¡±


    ¡°They all sound worrying,¡± Ark said. ¡°Except that last one. Please tell me that first one has some oomph to it.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°It just increases my opponent¡¯s focus on their interface.¡±


    ¡°A distraction.¡± Their mother stroked her jaw thoughtfully before looking at their father. ¡°What do you think.¡±


    ¡°Useful against people,¡± he answered without missing a beat. ¡°Not monsters.¡±


    ¡°More Gifted police than Delver,¡± Ark said. ¡°Hard pass.¡±


    Melmarc agreed with them. When he told them what the other two did, everyone in the room grew contemplative. It brought some silence to the living room.


    Silence that Dorthna broke.


    ¡°It really boils down to if you want to kill your opponent or not,¡± he said. ¡°If [Appreciate Your Leniency] leads your opponent to mana fatigue then you¡¯ve got a helpless enemy. You can kill them or leave them after that. But that¡¯s if you¡¯re alive long enough. With the other one, you can just turn and run if you¡¯re fast enough. It also gives you a fighting chance.¡±


    Ark winced. ¡°I definitely don¡¯t want to find myself going into mana fatigue during a fight.¡±


    ¡°The person might not go into mana fatigue, though,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°And eight minutes is a lot of time even if it could take less.¡±


    ¡°And there are some monsters that don¡¯t have mana,¡± their mother said. ¡°And some have mana but don¡¯t experience mana fatigue.¡±


    ¡°In truth, humans are the only ones that get hit so hard by mana fatigue,¡± Dorthna supplied. ¡°Something about over-dependence on mana.¡±


    With the information he now had, Melmarc knew what he wanted.


    [Would you like to choose Not So Fast? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    Yes.


    [You have selected skill Not So Fast. This has been permanently added to your skill list.]


    Alright, moment of truth, Melmarc thought as he dismissed the notification. Fingers crossed.


    There was a moment of delay that lasted no more than a second when his interface popped up again.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Base mastery is at 20%]


    [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 21.93%)].


    [Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?]


    ¡°Yes!¡± Melmarc celebrated, unable to stop himself. He¡¯d been hoping to get something out of it, and he had.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Ark and his mother asked together.


    ¡°The skill that didn¡¯t evolve at ten percent just did at twenty percent,¡± he told them.


    Their mother¡¯s brows furrowed for a moment, a frown creased her lips. ¡°Hold up,¡± she said. ¡°How many skills did you have before this?¡±


    ¡°Four,¡± Melmarc answered.


    ¡°And how many of them were over ten percent?¡±


    ¡°All four.¡±


    ¡°And your growth potential is¡­?¡±


    ¡°Unranked.¡±


    She turned to their father. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen any Gifted grow so fast. What do you think it is? An SS-rank?¡±


    Their father shook his head. ¡°Unbound¡¯s growth potential is SS-rank.¡±


    ¡°And he didn¡¯t grow this fast,¡± their mom said. ¡°Wow.¡±


    ¡°[August Intruders] grow fast,¡± Dorthna said casually. ¡°It¡¯s nothing to worry about. And he was in a portal and literally has the ability to choose what he wants to grow and in what direction. Ranks don¡¯t apply to his growth rate.¡±


    While she didn¡¯t say anything, Melmarc¡¯s mother looked worried.


    Returning to his interface, he chose to acquire a new skill.


    ¡°Just out of curiosity,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°Are you not interested in evolving any of your skills?¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t even need to think about the answer. ¡°Nope. I¡¯m going for variety right now.¡±


    ¡°I feel you,¡± Ark said. ¡°The more the merrier.¡±


    [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]


    [Yes/No]


    Yes.


    [Breath of Venus]


    The Gifted lets out a breath of contaminated mana.


    [Weight of Jupiter]


    The Gifted increases their weight by multiple folds, growing constantly over time.


    [Touch of Uranus]


    The Gifted reduces the temperature of the affected target with a single touch.


    Planet skills, Melmarc noted.


    It had him wondering if all the alternate skills he would get from their increase in mastery will still have something to do with planets since they all originated from a skill that had something to do with planets.


    ¡°What do we have?¡± Ark asked.


    Melmarc told them and everyone nodded in appreciation. It seemed like they liked all the skills.


    ¡°I say we remove [Touch of Uranus],¡± their mother said.


    Ark laughed a little. ¡°Touch of your anus.¡±


    He laughed some more, and their mother gave him an exasperated look. ¡°I swear the day you grow up is the day I¡¯ll do thanksgiving at the church.¡±


    ¡°Why, though?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°The skill, not the thanksgiving.¡±


    ¡°Because it involves coming close to your opponent,¡± their mother answered. ¡°It¡¯s always preferrable to not have to get in physical reach of a monster if you can avoid it.¡±


    Dorthna snorted. ¡°Like he¡¯s going to be fighting only monsters.¡±


    ¡°Contaminated mana can be a deadly thing,¡± his mother continued, ignoring Dorthna. ¡°And an increase in weight can give you some advantage in a fight.¡±


    ¡°So can a cold touch,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°You have no idea how cold Uranus can be.¡±


    Melmarc watched Ark visibly stop himself from making a comment on the name of the planet a second time.


    ¡°So [Breath of Venus] and [Weight of Jupiter],¡± Melmarc said.


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Either one works.¡±


    ¡°So what¡¯s it going to be?¡± his mother asked.


    [Breath of Venus] sounded deadly when he thought about the contaminated mana. He remembered the pain he¡¯d just been through and was sure of how much advantage it would gain him if it inflicted that level of pain on his opponent.


    Kind of unfair that I don¡¯t get to see everything about it before choosing it.


    On the other hand, however, he¡¯d always wanted to fight more like a juggernaut. And [Weight of Jupiter] seemed like something that would grant him that.


    I thought I gave up on a strength-based class long ago.


    Looking at the skills in front of him, he guessed he¡¯d been wrong. Still, there was also something else he would have to consider when he picked the skill.


    How he would activate them.


    [Rings of Saturn] had already shown him that he would need an activation trigger. Off the top of his head, he could guess that [Breath of Venus] would have something to do with breathing.


    Probably my nose or mouth.


    [Weight of Jupiter] was the one he couldn¡¯t wrap his head around off the top of his head.


    Maybe strengthening my muscles?


    He shook the thought aside. He would have time to figure out what the trigger was, so he didn¡¯t think picking based on the possible trigger was a smart decision.


    ¡°I¡¯m taking [Weight of Jupiter],¡± he announced.


    ¡°Why?¡± his mother asked.


    ¡°Because he¡¯s always liked the idea of being physically strong,¡± Ark answered before Melmarc could. ¡°In the comics and the movies, he¡¯s always liked the guy that smashes through walls and takes people down with a single punch over the guy that uses ten entertaining moves.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re going for a strength build?¡± his mother asked.


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°I guess that works,¡± she said.


    Dorthna snorted in amusement. ¡°A family a strength builds. You¡¯ll all fit in with the tanker stereotypes.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t mind, not that his uncle was making fun of them.


    [Would you like to choose Weight of Jupiter? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]


    [Yes/No].


    Yes.


    [You have selected skill Weight of Jupiter. This has been permanently added to your skill list.]


    ¡­


    [Existential Designation August Intruder is in effect]


    [Effect: +3% Mastery to all skills.]


    ¡­


    [Weight of Jupiter (Mastery 3.00%)]


    While skill is in effect you gain +10 points to Balance and Density stat.


    Conclusion of skill will end increase to Balance and Density stat.


    Activation of skill grants 15% increase to physical damage resistance.


    Activation of skill causes 80% decrease to all speed related stats.


    Skill perks:


    Strength +2 Balance +3 Constitution +4


    ¡°I got a speed decrease on activation,¡± Melmarc announced.


    ¡°Oof,¡± Ark said. ¡°That¡¯s got to hurt. So, you¡¯ll be heavy and slow¡­ makes sense.¡±


    Their mother nodded. ¡°It does. So, is that all? Anything else?¡±


    Melmarc pulled up his interface.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Call of The Wild (Mastery -08.19%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    [Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]


    Skills


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 21.99%)], [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 20.84%)], [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 21.93%)], [Secrecy (Mastery 14.61%)], [Mana Dilation (Mastery 3.00%)], [Not So Fast (Mastery 3.00%)], [Weight of Jupiter (Mastery 3.00%)]


    Perks


    [Optimum Existence (09.19%)]


    The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.


    Stats


    [[Agility 8, Balance 12, Mental 12, Mana 24, Strength 14, Dexterity 7, Accuracy 6, Speed 5, Constitution 4]


    Traits


    [Purified]


    You are a repository of pure mana. All skills cast are cast using pure mana. All mana poisoning effects are reduced by 50%.


    [Calculating¡­]


    ¡­


    [Total EP 103]


    [Optimum Existence] went up to nine percent, Melmarc noted, while it had been six percent when he¡¯d woken up this morning.


    Then there was the [Trait] he¡¯d developed. Apparently, he had not only gotten a boost in his mana stat but his mana had actually been converted to pure mana.


    I guess I have Veebee to thank for that, he thought. Now, if only I can figure out what [Calculating¡­] is actually calculating.


    ¡°Everything looks fine,¡± he answered his mom. ¡°I got a trait called [Purified].¡±


    Dorthna nodded as if he was impressed. ¡°I guess your void-beast¡¯s gamble paid off. Welcome to the big leagues.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean by big leagues?¡± Melmarc¡¯s mother asked.


    ¡°For starters,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°All the void-beasts will want to give you harder quests since you¡¯re using pure mana that¡¯s already difficult to come by. Then anyone that has reached the peak of their existence and knows anything about anything will want to harvest you since pure mana can help break the wall.¡±


    ¡°Harvest me?¡± Melmarc gulped.


    Dorthna dismissed his worry with a casual wave. ¡°You won¡¯t have to worry about that. Unless you¡¯ve really pissed off very powerful people, I don¡¯t see any reason why you¡¯ll be running into people that powerful at your current rank.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s possible?¡± their mother asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Dorthna confirmed. ¡°But it¡¯s also possible for a bus to drive in here and destroy the entire house, but it hasn¡¯t happened. You can¡¯t spend your life worrying about what is possible just because someone pointed it out.¡±


    Their mother scowled at him but didn¡¯t say anything. Instead, she got up from her chair and their dad did the same, as if on cue.


    Melmarc looked up at her. ¡°What now?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Now, we train your skills.¡±


    With a high level of enthusiasm, Ark popped up from his chair. ¡°Sparring with mom and dad? I never thought this day would come. I¡¯ll go put on something more presentable.¡±


    ¡°No need.¡± Their mother waved him down. ¡°We aren¡¯t going anywhere. Just the backyard.¡±


    ¡°The backyard?¡± Ark looked as confused as Melmarc was. ¡°We¡¯ve got neighbors, mom.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m very much aware.¡± She offered Melmarc her hand. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Melmarc took his mother¡¯s hand, their first physical contact since she¡¯d returned, and let her pull him up.


    He froze when he got to his feet.


    [Dormant Oath detected]


    [Detected Oath: War]


    [Would you like to reactivate the Oath of War?]


    [Y/N]

 NINETY-NINE: Sin

    ¡°Mom.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s mom gave him a smile. ¡°Yes, Mel?¡±


    Removing his eyes from his mother, Melmarc looked down at where their hands met, hers holding his, then back at the notification in front of him.


    [Dormant Oath detected]


    [Detected Oath: War]


    [Would you like to reactivate dormant Oath of War?]


    [Y/N]


    Melmarc was too surprised. His surprise left him unsure of how to say whatever it was that he wanted to say. The truth was that he wasn¡¯t even sure of what he wanted to say.


    ¡°Do you want to be the Oath of War again?¡±


    The sudden death silence that filled the entire house was only abused by the slow smirk on Uncle Dorthna¡¯s face. The room was so quiet that Uncle Dorthna¡¯s smirk was somehow very loud.


    Melmarc could suddenly feel the pulse in his mother¡¯s palm. The slow and steady flow of blood. The strength of her grip. The life in her hand. He knew that she had stopped breathing.


    ¡°What did you say, Mel?¡± she asked in very slow words.


    Melmarc looked back up at her, met her eyes, searched them. ¡°Do you want to be the Oath of War again, mom?¡±


    His mother released his hand quickly, snatching hers back to her as if she had just been burnt. She was wide-eyed, her breath came to her in an uneven pattern. Melmarc¡¯s mom did not take her eyes off him.


    On her face, Melmarc read distress.


    But no fear.


    Then again, she was a Delver. She had seen too many things, so Melmarc doubted things like what he¡¯d just told her would really scare her. Delvers were only terrified when they stood on the brink of death.


    Well¡­ there was Jude.


    In the portal, Jude had shown himself to be a Delver who wobbled on the edge of paranoia for a while, even shooting him out of fear that he was a skin walker, a dungeon monster that could kill everyone present.


    From where he was Ark spoke, breaking the silence.


    ¡°Mom?¡±


    Their mother¡¯s head turned ever so slightly, her ears leaning in the direction of Ark¡¯s voice. But her eyes didn¡¯t leave Melmarc, and the sudden turn of calculation that now stained them went nowhere.


    She was thinking now, calculating, planning. But for what, Melmarc could not even begin to fathom. It seemed like there was something he was missing about being an Oath. Something Veebee hadn¡¯t told him.


    ¡°Yes, Ark,¡± their mom said.


    Ark got up from his chair and adjusted his clothes as if he was about to deliver the greatest presentation a company¡¯s board of directors have ever heard.


    Then he folded his arms. ¡°You¡¯ll have to look at me, mom.¡±


    The moment the words left his mouth, Melmarc knew exactly what his brother was doing. He was drawing their mother¡¯s attention from him, trying to reduce the intensity of whatever was happening.


    Sometimes Ark played the fool. Sometimes Ark played the intimidator. Sometimes Ark played whatever role he had to play to support Melmarc.


    What are you doing, Ark?


    Their mother finally turned her head. When her eyes settled on Ark, it wasn¡¯t necessarily on him but vaguely in his general direction.


    She was still calculating, still planning.


    ¡°Yes, hun.¡±


    ¡°Before it happened,¡± Ark said very slowly, ¡°was it fun being an Oath?¡±


    Their mother¡¯s eyes slowly grew unfocused, and she stared at a world that wasn¡¯t here. She was thoughtful, lost in a world of remembrance. A small smile touched her face, and it was all the answer Melmarc needed.


    She misses it.


    No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did their mother¡¯s smile become a frown, then a scowl. Annoyance touched her face like an old lover.


    ¡°Before,¡± Ark said quickly, emphasizing on the word. ¡°Before it happened.¡±


    His words seemed to snap her out of whatever she was thinking about and her expression relaxed.


    Everyone present in the room knew what Ark meant by ¡®before it happened¡¯. Before a stranger had walked into their home and almost killed her.


    ¡°So what¡¯s the answer?¡± Uncle Dorthna asked. He seemed oddly interested in this conversation, so much so that he was actually sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward as if something was about to happen.


    Their mother¡¯s head finally moved in a slow nod. ¡°It was fun.¡±


    ¡°Fun?¡± Their father looked up at her with a blank expression.


    She smiled at him, reaching down to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. ¡°You know what I mean.¡±


    Melmarc was more interested in the fact that the word ¡®dissonant¡¯ did not ring in his mind. She was telling the truth. She really had had fun as an Oath.


    ¡°It was stressful, and terrifying,¡± their mother said, still looking at their father with a smile. ¡°Then dealing with the other Oaths was not something pleasant. Then the constantly demanding instinct.¡± She shuddered slightly, yet she chuckled like a girl reminiscing of fun times with annoying friends. ¡°But it was fun. The portals. The quests. The¡ªwhat were they again?¡ªthose creatures in the portals. It was fun.¡±


    Ark clapped once. The sound of it drew everyone¡¯s attention to him. ¡°So that settles it. Mom¡¯s going to become the Oath of War again.¡±


    Melmarc smiled because he couldn¡¯t help it. Veebee had said that he would need the Oaths, and Uncle Dorthna had all but confirmed it.


    There was no better way to start than having two of those Oaths be his parents.


    Melmarc looked at their uncle. ¡°So how do I make it happen?¡±


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Figure it out?¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to say something, only to realize that he didn¡¯t really have anything to say.


    Figure it out.


    In truth, he couldn¡¯t well expect everything to be handed to him, so there was that. If he wanted to figure it out, he had to start somewhere. And somewhere was agreeing to reactivate his mother¡¯s Oath.


    Even though the notification was still in front of him, he held his hand out to his mother. It was a simple gesture that said everything that needed to be said. If he was going to face whatever came with being an [August Intruder], he wasn¡¯t so enamored by his sense of self importance to think he would not need his parents when they were the strongest people he knew.


    His mother looked down at his hand. Her expression remained calculating, but there was neither worry nor fear.


    After a while of staring at his hand, she shook her head. ¡°Not today.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna cocked a brow. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Yea.¡± Ark thumbed at their uncle. ¡°What he said.¡±


    ¡°Use your own sentences,¡± their mother told him.


    Ark shrugged unbothered but still obeyed. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°Because the Oaths have a meeting very soon,¡± she answered. ¡°And the last thing we want is to be explaining to a room full of Oaths how I became an Oath again.¡±


    ¡°And that matters because?¡± Dorthna asked.


    ¡°It matters because if I suddenly become an Oath just after my husband met the [August Intruder], it will help all of them narrow down who exactly the [August Intruder] is.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯m a secret,¡± Melmarc mused. He didn¡¯t mind being a secret.


    His mother turned and placed a gentle arm on his shoulder. ¡°Not that kind of secret, Mel.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± Melmarc shook his head in a reassuring way. ¡°I¡¯m not complaining, mom.¡±


    ¡°And why should you?¡± Ark chuckled. ¡°This is about the most fun you¡¯ve had in years, apart from being bullied.¡±


    ¡°It was just the one time,¡± Melmarc groaned. ¡°The other times were Eroms and Delano.¡± He paused. ¡°I¡¯m guessing I can¡¯t tell them what I am, either, right?¡±


    The answer to his question came from their father. ¡°You can.¡±


    As always, it came with a finality, as if his father was disillusioning him from a misconception. But everyone present knew his father well enough.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing I shouldn¡¯t tell them what I am,¡± Melmarc corrected.


    His father¡¯s reply was as final as the previous one. ¡°You should not.¡±


    Melmarc took a moment to ask himself how he felt about that and realized that he couldn¡¯t say that he felt bad.


    Delano will just have to be satisfied with the new skills and the Delver that tried to kill me.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± their mother said, regaining everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°When I come back from the meeting with your father¡ª¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go,¡± their dad interrupted.


    ¡°¡ªWe will deal with the Oath thing,¡± she continued without missing a beat. ¡°Then we will see what we can do about Naymond. Mel, you need a new phone. Ark will go with you to get it.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re getting you a burner phone,¡± Ark said quickly. ¡°I know a guy who can help with that. He¡¯s got the best stash of burner phones this side of the country.¡±


    ¡°No burner phones,¡± their mom interjected immediately. ¡°And how do you know even a guy that deals in burner phones?¡±


    Ark looked away sheepishly, not answering the question.


    Their mother let out a sigh, letting that line of inquiry die. ¡°You¡¯ll get your contacts back and retrieve your line. I don¡¯t like the idea of not being able to reach you when I want to.¡±


    ¡°Also, any longer and he¡¯ll go back to being a hermit even when he gets his phone back,¡± Ark added.


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t blame him for that one. Unlike Ark, Melmarc had not quickly taken to the mobile device when he¡¯d first gotten one at thirteen. He left it lying anywhere and it could ring for days before he would find it. His mother had had a big problem with that, before Ark had taken to making sure Melmarc had it on him at all times.


    It had been a few months before Melmarc and his phone had become the best of friends. His attachment to playing songs on long rides had definitely helped.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t we just get back my original phone?¡± Melmarc asked.


    It would give him a reason to return to the police station, see Detective Alfa, and maybe get to know how Naymond has been doing since they left him behind.


    His mother shook her head, refusing easily. ¡°There¡¯s no need for that. We¡¯ll just get you a new one.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go to the meeting.¡± Their father¡¯s voice was simple, casual.


    ¡°You have to.¡± Their mother didn¡¯t even bother looking at him. ¡°If you don¡¯t go, then I can¡¯t go, and we need to know what everyone else has to say about the [August Intruder].¡±


    ¡°You can go.¡±


    ¡°Not an Oath, remember?¡± This time, she looked at him. ¡°And didn¡¯t you promise Ruth that you would deal with her.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go to her home and bring it down.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°No,¡± their mother disagreed. ¡°Too many innocents will be involved.¡±


    ¡°They will survive.¡±


    ¡°Still no.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll find her after a Chaos Run and break her leg.¡±


    Their mother raised a curious brow. ¡°Just her leg?¡±


    ¡°Maybe her arm, too.¡± Their father shrugged. ¡°She used her shield and it hurt my hand.¡± He paused, contemplating. ¡°Or I¡¯ll trap her in a confined space that she cannot escaape.¡±


    Their father¡¯s thought process was very familiar. Melmarc didn¡¯t even have to think about it to know why it was familiar. It had been the exact same way his mind had been working during his fight against Jude in the portal.


    And this is how it works all the time?


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t imagine living like that at all times. The funny part was that his father seemed completely at peace with it, going through the motions as if he was going through files in a file cabinet.


    Meanwhile their mother pointed at their father. ¡°No confining the Oath of Shield. Even if she¡¯s done a lot of wrong, the world still needs her.¡±


    Dorthna made a dismissive gesture with a flick of his wrist. ¡°Shields are always so easily replaceable if you ask me.¡±


    Their father pointed at Dorthna as if that explained everything.


    ¡°Dorthna please don¡¯t motivate him,¡± their mother said with a groan. ¡°And no one is confining the Oath of Shield, even if she is replaceable.¡± She turned back to their father. ¡°Can¡¯t a punishment be enough to sate your¡ª¡±


    ¡°Let me pose a question to you, Mel.¡± Dorthna adjusted on his chair, turning to Melmarc. ¡°Ark is caught in a portal. He does not have a class, and he is a timid child that does not like fighting. He¡¯s been stuck there for a few days, and your class prefect and his or her good friend have done nothing to help him escape.¡±


    Melmarc nodded slowly. He knew what Uncle Dorthna was talking about but not why he was dragging him into this.


    ¡°When you find out,¡± Dorthna continued, ¡°your class prefect¡¯s good friend tells you not to go and save your brother since they have it under control, even though they have shown no sign of having it under control. When you refuse to leave it alone and insist on going to help, this so-called friend traps you and Delano and Eroms in a room that you cannot escape, so you are forced to punch a hole through the wall to get out. On your way out, you run into this friend but are too busy to do anything about it. What do you do?¡±


    ¡°Save Ark.¡± Then trap my class prefect and her friend in a portal.


    ¡°After that, Mel,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°What do you do after that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll come back for my class prefect¡¯s friend,¡± Melmarc answered. That part was easy.


    ¡°And what will be a sufficient punishment for them?¡±


    Lose their position. The answer came easily, but its uselessness came just as easily. The class prefect¡¯s friend did not have an actual position.


    But they need to be punished.


    Break a leg?


    The thought had come from Melmarc but not necessarily. It had come from deep within his mind, a place where stray thoughts bubbled from. Melmarc hadn¡¯t heard from that part of his mind since he¡¯d come out of the portal.


    The problem, however, was that the thought seemed unsure where it had been insistent within the portal. It was as if the thought wasn¡¯t completely sure if it was a fitting punishment, as if it might be too much of a punishment.


    Punching through the wall hurt my hand, Melmarc thought. So maybe he should punch through a wall, too?


    ¡°I will have him punch through a wall,¡± Melmarc answered finally.


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°That will kill your class prefect¡¯s friend. He¡¯s not as strong as you. Even in punishment, sometimes you have to think of equity not equality.¡±


    Melmarc frowned. Punishments did not work that way. You committed the crime, you served the time.


    Uncle Dorthna watched him for a while before speaking again. ¡°They are not being punished for a crime, Mel.¡±


    ¡°But they are,¡± Melmarc disagreed.


    Surprisingly, even though his mother had a look of discomfort, nobody stopped Dorthna. They all just waited patiently.


    Uncle Dorthna tapped a finger against his temple. ¡°That¡¯s just your misconception. A crime is an illegal action. An action designated by a governing body to be against their rules and regulations. In this case, your class prefect is the governing body and you are the criminal. Ergo, their friend has not committed a crime. In fact, if anyone has committed a crime, it¡¯s you.¡±


    Melmarc frowned. He was the governing body, not the class prefect. The class prefect had only been allowed control in the normal realm of things. It was also his brother that he was going to save, there was no way he was the criminal here.


    ¡°You are the criminal,¡± Dorthna reiterated as if reading his mind. ¡°So the friend isn¡¯t being punished for a crime because they have committed no crime.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s brows drew together in annoyance and Ark gave him an odd look.


    ¡°But they committed the crime,¡± Melmarc insisted, he wasn¡¯t sure if his voice had risen slightly or not, just that his annoyance had. ¡°They committed a crime and need to pay.¡±


    ¡°A crime against who?¡± Dorthna asked, tone completely casual.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes darted in their sockets as he thought of the answer. This was a hypothetical situation his uncle had posed to him, which meant that he had to operate under hypothetical rules. Uncle Dorthna had given him all the information that he needed to make his judgement from.


    The class prefect¡¯s friend had to be punished, but not for a crime committed.


    But it is still a crime.


    If it was, then it was a crime against who?


    The answer came to Melmarc soon after and he couldn¡¯t believe his own voice when he gave it.


    ¡°A crime against me.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna nodded, a small smile stretching his lips. ¡°And what is a crime against you?¡±


    A soft and gentle calmness suddenly settled over Melmarc. His mind grew silent. The confusion of what had to be done to the friend slowly faded away. He had been thinking about it all the wrong ways.


    That had been his problem. Even with Jude, in the end, he had come to negotiate with the help of Naymond. He had been wrong to do that. He could see it now.


    There were no negotiations with such things.


    ¡°What is a crime against you, Mel?¡± Dorthna asked once more.


    Melmarc met his eyes. ¡°A crime against me¡­¡±


    Dorthna nodded slowly, his smile widening.


    ¡°¡­ is a sin.¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    Their mother¡¯s word cut through the silence like a blunt knife forcefully striking glass. It shattered the calm in the room and completely ruined the one in Melmarc¡¯s mind.


    She rounded on Dorthna. ¡°You will not corrupt my son.¡±


    Dorthna met her angered gaze, unflinching. ¡°I am corrupting no one. He is an [August Intruder] and I am correcting the way he thinks.¡±


    ¡°By making him think that he is some kind of a dictator?¡±


    ¡°Not a dictator,¡± Melmarc muttered to himself, coming to a slow realization. ¡°A ruler.¡±


    He recognized the way Uncle Dorthna had made him think. And even though he had thrown out the word ¡®sin¡¯ it was only because it had been fitting. Regardless, he wasn¡¯t thinking like a dictator. Dictators punished you even if you had done no wrong. A ruler punished you when you wronged them and left you in the hands of any existing rules when you committed a general wrong.


    I hope.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t want my son thinking like an Oath,¡± their mother insisted.


    Dorthna looked at their father. ¡°She meant no offense.¡±


    ¡°She was not offending,¡± their father replied easily.


    Their mother scowled. ¡°You know what I meant.¡±


    Dorthna let out a tired sigh. ¡°Do you know the problem with your Oaths, wife of Madness? It is the fact that they try to guide the impulses of their Oath-hood with the understanding of communal mentality. And that is why they have consistent problems.¡±


    ¡°Communal mentality?¡± their mother folded her arms.


    ¡°Human concept,¡± their father said.


    Dorthna snapped his finger at him. ¡°Exactly. They make the mistake of assuming they are at the top of the food chain. At least that was the mistake until Melmarc became what he is now.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure how he really felt about all the power positions he was being placed in. Just a second ago Dorthna told him that the crimes he wanted to punish so vehemently were not actually crimes but perceived sins against himself.


    If that¡¯s not arrogance, I don¡¯t know what is.


    ¡°So they are not at the top of the food chain,¡± Melmarc muttered, his mind doing the math, trying to understand where Uncle Dorthna was heading based on his new found understanding of his uncle.


    ¡°No,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°You are not.¡±


    With a frown, his mother asked. ¡°Then what is he if he¡¯s not at the top of the food chain?¡±


    Ark brightened up suddenly and Melmarc knew that his brother had found the answer first. Melmarc found it second. However, it was their father that gave the answer a voice.


    ¡°He is the top of the food chain.¡±


    Dorthna nodded like a grandfather proud to see his sons and grandsons finally develop some universal male understanding on their own. ¡°And now that he is here, the Oaths only stand at the top of the food chain because he allows them.¡±


    Their mother shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t like this line of thinking. I don¡¯t like this one bit. It corrupts. And Mel is still too young to be thinking that way.¡±


    Ark raised his hand like a student in class. ¡°What about me? I¡¯ve got the title king in my actual class.¡±


    Their mother waved him aside dismissively. ¡°You already think you¡¯re better than everyone except Mel and Nin, I think it¡¯s already too late to dissuade you from that line of thought.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Ark¡¯s brows furrowed in thought suddenly. ¡°Hold up. I think I¡¯m better than Nin, too.¡±


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to disagree with that one.¡±


    ¡°I second that.¡± Melmarc nodded.


    Their father shook and nodded his head seemingly at the same time. ¡°Yes. Not better than my daughter.¡±


    ¡°Alright then.¡± Dorthna gestured in the direction of the kitchen. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve all gotten that out of the way, shall we proceed to training? The sooner we get all this sorted out, the sooner I can get my part of this conversation handled.¡±


    Everyone got up from their chairs and started filing out of the living room. Their father led the way with their mother following easily behind him, slapping at his back like a schoolgirl disturbing her brother.


    Sometimes it was odd to see her so childish around their father when they knew just how strict she could be. As for their father, he never had a negative reaction to things like this.


    ¡°Why do people think I¡¯m not better than Ninra?¡± Melmarc heard Ark ask Uncle Dorthna as they followed behind him.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you think you¡¯re better than Mel?¡±


    ¡°Well, Mel is¡­ complicated,¡± Ark said with a touch of hesitation.


    ¡°And Ninra is not?¡±


    ¡°Half the things Mel is capable of doing, he doesn¡¯t do. He practically holds himself back from being him.¡± Ark sighed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t surprised to find out that he became this [August Intruder]. He can be terrifying when he stops holding back.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not terrifying,¡± Melmarc said without looking back.


    ¡°Shush, Mel,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°The conversation is about you, not for you.¡±


    Melmarc sighed but didn¡¯t say anything.


    ¡°Well,¡± Dorthna continued, addressing Ark. ¡°Ninra is completely aware of who she is, and that¡¯s why she¡¯s better than you.¡±


    Ark groaned as if this was news to him.


    Uncle Dorthna chuckled as they stepped into the kitchen and made their way to the back door. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll be better if you ever get to evolve to [Demon God].¡±


    Ark stumbled but caught himself.


    ¡°There¡¯s such a thing as a [Demon God]?¡± he blurted out. ¡°How do I evolve to that?¡±


    Dorthna ignored the questions, sounding thoughtful. ¡°Or maybe you just never will.¡±


    ¡­


    All of five of them stood in the garden. It was as beautiful as Melmarc remembered. Dorthna had definitely done a good job of keeping it healthy.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s safe to do what we want to do out in the open,¡± Ark said. ¡°Some of my skills can be quite devastating, and our neighbors could get terrified.¡±


    ¡°Your uncle has that covered,¡± their mother said, walking up to one edge of the garden.


    Dorthna looked up at the sky. ¡°I really don¡¯t, though.¡±


    Their mother¡¯s attention snapped up from the roots of one of the cluster of plants to look at him. ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡±


    ¡°Careful,¡± Dorthna said with a smile. ¡°You¡¯re not an Oath.¡±


    ¡°Yet,¡± their mother returned with a grin before returning her attention to the plant. ¡°Please, if you¡¯ve not got it covered, get it covered.¡±


    Dorthna opened his mouth to say something only to close it when their father looked at him. Grumbling under his breath, Dorthna flicked his hand in the air.


    ¡°There, done. Happy.¡±


    Their father¡¯s response was simply to return his attention to their mother who was now getting up from the flowers. She had an entire bunch in her hand which left a very clear patch in the ground.


    Ark nudged Melmarc with his shoulder. ¡°For someone so obsessed with her flowers, that¡¯s quite the murder.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t disagree. But he didn¡¯t get the time to voice it. The ground beneath their feet released a soft green glow, drawing the attention of him and his brother.


    Looking down, they found each blade of grass emitting a soft green glow. The glow grew brighter, slowly illuminating the place.


    ¡°Look at that.¡± Ark pointed.


    Melmarc followed the direction of his finger and found the tiny drops that littered the air he had started to call mana were all gathering to specific parts of the ground. Each one changed from their individual color to the color of the grass as they pulled down.


    Where they touched the grass, the grass grew greener. It didn¡¯t take long for Melmarc to see what Ark was pointing out. There were parts of the grass that were now greener than others and they formed symbols that Melmarc couldn¡¯t recognize.


    ¡°A spell,¡± he muttered in realization.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded. ¡°A locking spell. Boring and simple, but useful for the purpose.¡±


    ¡°Wow.¡± Ark was busy tracing the spell with his eyes, following the lines. ¡°Where does it start?¡±


    ¡°Brace for impact,¡± was the only answer Dorthna gave.


    Melmarc blinked, even though he didn¡¯t remember doing so, and the garden was gone. Now, he was left standing alone in an open space.


    The floor was made of black tiles, and while the room was wide enough to be called an open space, he could still see the walls on all sides, as black as the tiles beneath him.


    Melmarc turned, taking the entire place in. He was not alone, though. Uncle Dorthna stood exactly where he had been before the scenery had changed while Ark doubled over to the side, dropping to his knees, and threw up.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Dorthna told him. ¡°Demon mana doesn¡¯t work very well with this type of spells. But you¡¯ll get used to it.¡±


    Ark wiped his lips with the back of his arm.


    Gross.


    Done, Ark looked up but didn¡¯t stand up. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    Their mother turned to them, bouquet of flowers still in her hands. ¡°Welcome to the underground cellar.¡±


    Ark looked around. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like an underground cellar to me.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an underground cellar,¡± their mother insisted.


    Ark looked at Melmarc. ¡°Sounds like there¡¯s more to it than what we are looking at.¡±


    ¡°It does,¡± Melmarc agreed with a nod.


    ¡°You think we can get her to tell us?¡±


    Melmarc looked at his mother, saw the certainty in her eyes and shook his head. ¡°Nope. We¡¯ll have a better chance getting the info out of dad.¡±


    Ark looked at their mother, then back to him. ¡°That bad?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    With a sigh, Ark got to his feet. ¡°Sorry about the mess, I¡¯ll just get it¡ª¡±


    His jaw dropped as he and Melmarc looked down at the floor where he¡¯d thrown up. Spotless black tiles looked back, not a hint of vomit.


    Ark stared in disbelief. ¡°How?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna made a dazzling gesture with his hands, fingers moving and everything. ¡°Magic.¡±


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t sure which was more confusing, the vanished vomit or Uncle Dorthna doing jazz hands.


    ¡°You two are no fun sometimes,¡± Dorthna said, deflating a little. ¡°Ninra loves my quirks.¡±


    ¡°Uncle D,¡± Ark said. ¡°With all due respect, you don¡¯t have quirks.¡±


    ¡°And with all due respect, Ninra didn¡¯t react so surprised the first time she came here.¡±


    Ark¡¯s jaw dropped and he turned an accusatory gaze on their mother. ¡°Ninra¡¯s been here?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Their mother tossed the flowers over her shoulder. ¡°She¡¯s been here a few times.¡±


    ¡°And I don¡¯t?¡± Ark grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to think you all don¡¯t appreciate me in this family.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a sarcastic brow at him. ¡°I also wasn¡¯t aware.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you wouldn¡¯t care.¡± Ark shooed him away. ¡°It doesn¡¯t count.¡±


    Their mother pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this before, Ark. You¡¯re a wild card and Mel¡¯s¡­ well¡­ Mel.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to tell anyone,¡± Ark protested.


    ¡°Your father and I know that.¡±


    ¡°Then what¡¯s the excuse this time?¡±


    Their mother and father shared a look, their father¡¯s expression as empty as always, before their mother answered. ¡°Well, honestly, dealing with you always trying to con your way into coming here all the time was just not a level of stress we were ready to deal with.¡±


    Ark gasped in faux shock. He opened his mouth, closed it, took on a thoughtful expression. Finally, he nodded in acceptance.


    ¡°Fair point.¡±


    Ignoring his older brother, Melmarc turned to look around. Just as he had seen previously, it was nothing but a large open space. The particles of mana in the air reacted as they always did. They clawed against his mother and father, more of black and red particles than any other color. As for Ark only the black particles were drawn to him. Fewer touched against his skin while more hovered close to him.


    Curious, Melmarc looked at their Uncle Dorthna. The man stood casually in the midst of the chaos of mana particles, aa void onto himself. He was surrounded by a vacuum completely devoid of mana particles as wide as four feet around him.


    Dorthna looked at him, met his eyes, then shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t ask because I can¡¯t tell. No idea how it¡¯s happening.¡±


    ¡°You know that I can see them?¡± Melmarc asked, surprised.


    Dorthna gave him a shrug. ¡°If you really want to surprise me, do something that I do not know at all.¡±


    ¡°So, there¡¯s nothing you don¡¯t know?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I wouldn¡¯t say¡ª¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Their father¡¯s voice echoed through the entire training room. ¡°There is nothing he does not know.¡±


    Melmarc looked at his uncle. Again, there was no note of dissonance in his father¡¯s voice. And that was saying a lot.


    ¡°So what are we doing here?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± Melmarc replied.


    Ark pointed at him. ¡°It is.¡± Then he pointed at them. ¡°But I want to hear mom say it.¡±


    Walking up to him, their mother shook her head. Standing in front of him, she gestured for him to lower his head.


    Ark obeyed. She gave him a motherly kiss on the forehead and looked him in the eye. ¡°Sometimes I think the nurses gave me the wrong child from the nursery.¡±


    Ark smiled at her. ¡°Love you too, mom.¡±


    Their mother laughed.


    ¡°We¡¯re here to train,¡± she said. ¡°And by train, I mean that you and your brother are going to fight against each other.¡±


    Ark¡¯s eyes moved to Melmarc.


    ¡°Sounds like so much fun.¡±

 ONE HUNDRED: A New Threat

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    Looking around, Ruth couldn¡¯t help the frown that touched her lips. ¡°Your country should learn to make up its mind. It¡¯s either hot or cold, it can¡¯t be in between.¡±


    Inevitability only chuckled. ¡°The last time I checked, I¡¯m not a high ranking [Elementalist]. I don¡¯t have the power to control the weather.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t tell me that you don¡¯t have one on staff,¡± she grumbled.


    ¡°You seem to forget the [Unbound] is also a Nigerian.¡±


    Ruth waved a dismissive hand. ¡°You and I both know that he doesn¡¯t care for the Gifted.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m a huge fan.¡± Inevitability nodded as he turned to walk.


    Ruth followed him without question.


    The air was loud with the sound of airplanes. They were on an airstrip. Ruth had just landed in the country on her private jet on a strip specifically set aside for the arrival of Oaths. Every airport in the capital of every country had a set aside airstrip for the Oaths. To the public it was simply another special section for the political figures and those in power.


    ¡°Always hated the sound of planes,¡± Ruth muttered as she walked.


    ¡°And I¡¯ve told you to get used to it.¡± Inevitability waved to one of the staff with a wide smile. ¡°If you don¡¯t like it, stop traveling.¡±


    ¡°You know that I can¡¯t do that.¡±


    Ruth fought the urge to fold her arms and pout. She was a bigger person than that, civilized and mature. What she hated was the fact that around Inevitability the petulant child in her tended to come out.


    ¡°What about the other Oaths?¡± she asked, offering a random staff a smile.


    ¡°Pain¡¯s here, already.¡± Inevitability¡¯s path turned slightly, and Ruth realized that he was heading for the worker she had smiled at.


    ¡°That¡¯s going to be interesting,¡± she muttered, wondering why the staff was also heading towards them. ¡°Doesn¡¯t he have a personal issue with War?¡±


    ¡°War¡¯s not the kind to care.¡± Inevitability met the staff and they shook hands.


    There were a few laughs as Inevitability seamlessly switched to a very terrifying bastardization of the English language that made no sense at all. She¡¯d asked him what exactly it was once upon a time and how he could speak English with so many words and grammatic functions that she did not recognize.


    He¡¯d called it pidgin English or broken English. Whatever it was, all Ruth knew for a fact was that she hated it. She hated the feeling that came with not knowing what she felt as if she was supposed to know.


    She stood there, next to Inevitability like a forgotten child waiting for her parent to finish a conversation with their friend while Inevitability switched to one of the many native languages of the country.


    Unwilling to simply stand there twiddling her thumb, Ruth turned her attention to their surroundings.


    There was a high tower to the east of the airport where people moved about within. Even now, at her current age, she knew very little about airports. The buildings surrounding the open space she had landed in were a mix of only three colors: blue, a touch of green, and white.


    The floor beneath their feet was made of concrete and tar. An odd combination if she was asked. She was beginning to turn her attention on a fleet of cars used as the airport taxi when Inevitability clapped hands with the man he was speaking to and drew him in for a half hug.


    Usually, that was a sign that the conversation was over. The man stepped back and Inevitability began turning to Ruth. Ruth sighed in relief at having their journey resume when the man turned back to Inevitability and said something once more.


    ¡°Really?¡± Inevitability replied in awe. ¡°How it take happen?¡±


    Ruth groaned in displeasure, unable to stop herself. Worse, Inevitability looked back at her at the sound and smiled. The man smiled as if she was a cute child who just wanted to go to bed when she wasn¡¯t supposed to.


    After smiling, he returned his attention to the man and their conversation continued once more. Ruth found herself under the overwhelming urge to squat down and draw shapes on the ground with her finger.


    She paused, looked at the man Inevitability was talking to. Maybe it might be enough to scare him off.


    So she did. Ruth squatted and with a finger started carving shapes into the ground. First was a poorly drawn circle, then a perfectly drawn square, then she drew a stick figure of a man holding a burning sword. Then she drew a companion for him with a sharp spear and a¡ª


    Inevitability smacked her upside the head.


    ¡°Stop spoiling country property, Shield,¡± he chided.


    Ruth looked up at him with a frown and found the man he was with chuckling. She had it on good authority that the man was not Gifted, just some regular Nigerian that worked at the airport. Sucking a deep breath to control her anger at being laughed at by someone that wasn¡¯t even a Gifted, she got back to her feet but said nothing.


    Inevitability looked down at the things she had carved into the ground with her finger and shook his head.


    ¡°The funds to fix that is coming out of your pocket,¡± he told her. ¡°You know that, right?¡±


    Ruth didn¡¯t care. She just wanted to get to the hotel before the other Oaths started pulling into the country. The airstrip they were currently standing on wasn¡¯t only for her and Inevitability, after all. It was for all the Oaths.


    Sadly, Inevitability¡¯s friend¡¯s time with them did not end quickly. It was almost another thirty minutes before their conversation was done and the man went on his way to attend to whatever things he was being paid to attend to.


    The walk towards the building of their choice was quiet. Ruth had things on her mind to say but wasn¡¯t sure how to go about it. Inevitability was often too human for her liking. Too simple. While she walked with so much contemplation on her mind, the man walked taking in the gentle wind and basking in the glory of the sun as if he was out on the beach for a simple afternoon stroll.


    ¡°Why do you do that?¡± Ruth muttered as they walked into the arrival point of the airport designated for Oaths. ¡°What is the purpose of it?¡±


    Inevitability waved to the only member of staff at the arrival point. ¡°No reason.¡±


    ¡°You do all this for no reason?¡± Ruth was confused. ¡°Yet you do it all the time.¡±


    They walked past the man.


    ¡°Any more expected guests, sir?¡± the employee asked. He was a man with skin as dark as oak and greying beards cut very close to the skin of his face. He had very brown eyes and a bald head.


    ¡°None, Ife.¡± Inevitability gave him a pat on the shoulder as he walked past him. ¡°You¡¯re free to call it a day.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, sir, but I think the president is expecting the prime minister of India today,¡± the man, Ife, said.


    Inevitability stopped next to him, forcing Ruth to stop about four steps ahead of him.


    ¡°The prime minister?¡± Inevitability asked. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t that be in Lagos?¡±


    ¡°Abuja is the capital of Nigeria, sir,¡± Ife said politely.


    ¡°And the president is currently in Lagos.¡± Inevitability tapped a gentle finger to his lips in thought, then he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. ¡°Where¡¯s the itinerary for the president of Zimbabwe?¡±


    ¡°Jerry has it.¡±


    Inevitability frowned. ¡°Then what does Jasmine have?¡±


    ¡°Your itinerary, sir.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Inevitability paused, then shrugged as if the entire conversation didn¡¯t matter anymore. ¡°Greet the prime minister for me when he arrives.¡±


    Ife nodded casually. ¡°Sure thing, sir. How¡¯s your Hausa coming along?¡±


    Walking away from the man, Inevitability chuckled. ¡°Never liked the language, Ife. Just Yoruba, Igbo and Efik for me.¡±


    ¡°Throw in a little Urhobo and I¡¯ll talk to Ebube about seeing if we can deploy Sharon over,¡± Ife called after Inevitability as he and Ruth resumed their journey.


    Inevitability waved a hand over his shoulder without looking back. ¡°I can have her redeployed whenever I want.¡±


    Ruth pouted for the rest of the journey, choosing to say nothing else to Inevitability. They went through the entire building in a silence that was only disrupted by Inevitability greeting random people and being greeted by random people.


    For someone so important and supposedly unknown to the general public, he was very popular.


    Ruth put up with being second fiddle for a walk of almost thirty minutes. She was unknown, and important enough to get nothing but a nod of acknowledgement from people who shook hands with Inevitability, exchanged greetings in languages she couldn¡¯t speak or understand and bastardized the English Language in their own recreation of it.


    It was not a pleasing experience.


    Once they were outside the building, Inevitability guided her to a glossy black car that was a model manufactured at least ten years ago.


    Ruth still could not understand how a man as important as him could use such low-end facilities for such important situations.


    Inevitability approached the car and opened the front passenger door. ¡°After you.¡±


    ¡°Ever the gentleman,¡± Ruth muttered stepping in.


    ¡°Sarcasm is not a good look on you.¡± Inevitability closed her door and walked over to the other side.


    Ruth reached across and opened the door to the driver¡¯s seat from the inside as Inevitability approached it.


    Inevitability took his seat behind the steering wheel and closed the door. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Why do you do this every time I come into your country?¡± Ruth asked as Inevitability pushed the car into drive.


    Inevitability kept his eyes on the road. ¡°Do what?¡±


    ¡°Talk to everyone.¡±


    ¡°Everyone?¡± Inevitability cocked a brow.


    ¡°Stop doing that.¡± Ruth frowned, maybe pouted. ¡°You know I hate it when you do that.¡±


    With his dark skin and jet-black eyes, he always looked like a criminal mastermind mocking an unsuspecting hero whenever he raised a single brow. It transformed him into the kind of man that she knew he was not.


    Inevitability chuckled. ¡°If I¡¯m not allowed to raise a brow, what am I allowed to do?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    They were still within the airport complex and Inevitability was driving at the kind of speed you would expect from someone¡¯s grandmother.


    He took his eyes from the road to look at her for a moment. ¡°Stop pouting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not pouting.¡±


    ¡°Then what are you doing?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m frowning. This,¡± she gestured at her face, ¡°is a frown of displeasure.¡±


    ¡°Uhuh.¡± Inevitability returned his eyes to the road. ¡°What do you have against the people I talk to?¡±


    ¡°They are low level and unimportant and I always get the feeling that you only do it when I am around.¡±


    The car slowed down even more just to roll over a speed breaker on the road. Ruth almost let out a sigh. At their current speed, they didn¡¯t need to slow down to go over a speed breaker.


    ¡°So, what part makes you frown and not pout?¡± Inevitability increased the speed of the car. ¡°The part where I talk to them or the part where you think it has something to do with you?¡±


    ¡°The first?¡± she replied, unsure. ¡°Maybe both.¡±


    Inevitability did not reply immediately. He kept his eyes on the road, a slight frown on his face. He looked thoughtful as they pulled up to a toll gate. He wound down his window, reaching across to hand the official on the other side a piece of paper.


    ¡°Have a nice day, sir,¡± the woman greeted. She was a chubby lady in a white uniform.


    ¡°Greet the kids for me,¡± Inevitability responded, driving off.


    Only now did he increase the speed of the car to something befitting of a car by Ruth¡¯s standards.


    His silence grew more uncomfortable with every passing moment but Ruth did not break or interrupt it.


    Despite their friendship, Inevitability had a habit of treating her like a child sometimes, and she didn¡¯t like it.


    It was as if every waking moment with him was a teaching moment for him. He did not teach directly, but he thought. It was in his actions. The things he did as well as the things he did not do.


    After close to fifteen minutes of driving and Ruth staring out the window, watching other cars drive by and be driven by, Inevitability made a sound.


    He let out a sigh as if not wanting to do what he was about to do. ¡°What is my Oath, Shield?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Ruth shook her head. ¡°I will not be treated like a child.¡±


    Inevitability tapped a worrying finger on the steering wheel. ¡°My Oath, Shield. What is it?¡±


    Ruth threw her head back against the headrest in exasperation. ¡°Why do you always take the time out to mock me?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not mocking you. I am establishing a base line. My Oath.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been doing this since the day we met.¡± Ruth fought the urge to throw a tantrum. ¡°Asking me questions that we both know I know the answer to. I¡¯ve seen you with the other Oaths. You don¡¯t treat them the way you treat me.¡±


    ¡°Madness has arrived, and he came with his wife.¡± It was all Inevitability had to say for a moment. ¡°Things are going to happen, and they will happen fast. What is my Oath, Shield?¡±


    If Madness and his wife had already arrived, that meant that Madness had agreed to come for the meeting. It also meant that the [August Intruder] was not going to be the only subject spoken of at the meeting.


    A verdict would be reached on her actions and the effects it had caused. Her conflict with Madness would be addressed.


    Would it really?


    As much as she liked to think about how possible a peaceful resolution being met would be, something about the way he had looked at her before leaving told her that Madness would not be in support of anything peaceful.


    Her hope was in Madness¡¯ wife and Inevitability. No matter how right her actions had been in the moment she had met Madness, peace among the Oaths no matter how volatile, was necessary to keep the world protected.


    ¡°Inevitability,¡± Ruth said finally. ¡°Your Oath is of Inevitability.¡±


    Inevitability nodded as he took a ramp into the service lane of the express. ¡°Inevitability. And amongst the things it is capable of, it is capable of showing me inevitables.¡±


    ¡°Madness won¡¯t forgive me, will he?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about that, Shield,¡± Inevitability said. ¡°I¡¯m talking about the people I continue talking to, apparently, to spite you. They are un-Gifted humans. And the world as society has created it needs them to continue working. They are essential.¡± He looked at her for a brief moment before returning his attention to the busy road. ¡°If there is one unchanging thing I have learnt since becoming an Oath, it is that they are inevitable.¡±


    ¡°Then they are to be controlled?¡± It was a genuine question.


    Inevitability sighed in disappointment. ¡°How are you the Oath of Shield, sworn to protect the world, and yet you can see them as less.¡±


    Ruth looked out the window. Because I¡¯ve always seen them as less.


    Even as a child she¡¯d seen people as less. They were always selfish, always out to get what they wanted. She was the Oath of Shield, but the other Oaths seemed to misunderstand the concept of what exactly being the shield of the world actually meant.


    ¡°How did you change from that thirteen-year-old girl I met all those years ago?¡± Inevitability asked.


    Ruth kept her eyes on the road watching everything pass by. ¡°Eleven.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Inevitability asked.


    ¡°Eleven,¡± Ruth repeated. ¡°You met me when I was eleven.¡±


    ¡°You sure?¡±


    Ruth nodded. ¡°It was winter and your first trip to Poland. Your parents brought you ice skating at the skating ring, I believe.¡±


    A frown creased Inevitability¡¯s forehead. ¡°Eleven. That¡¯s two years earlier than I remember.¡±


    ¡°Inevitability that doesn¡¯t remember the past very much.¡± Ruth shook her head, more saddened than disappointed. ¡°You have a lot to learn.¡±


    ¡°Eleven.¡± Inevitability sounded thoughtful. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s¡­ wow. But that¡¯s that and this is this. People are necessary, the un-Gifted. They will always be here. And no, not to be controlled but to be led, guided, protected.¡±


    ¡°You always expect too much from them.¡±


    ¡°And you always expect too little.¡±


    The air in the car was tense now. Ruth hated having arguments with Inevitability because he didn¡¯t really argue. He had a habit of always talking with a calm voice. Even if you argued as loudly as you can, his voice always remained calm, controlled.


    It made Ruth feel small anytime she raised her voice, like a child throwing a tantrum. So she had learnt to control her voice as well, to keep it calm and collected. Also, Inevitability had a habit of looking at her as if she was being foolish whenever she raised her voice. He would wait, then, after a while, he would ask her why she was raising her voice in the calmest voice possible.


    Thinking about it made Ruth scowl. She hated it so much.


    So she hated these kinds of arguments. However, she hated the silence between them aas much as she hated the arguments.


    ¡°The [August Intruder],¡± she said, ending the silence. She knew Inevitability would answer her. He always did.


    The silent treatment was not a method of punishment to him.


    Inevitability tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel with his fingers. ¡°What about them?¡±


    Ruth took her eyes off the road to give him a stern gaze. ¡°What do we do about it?¡±


    ¡°The [August Intruder] is necessary. We know that much.¡±


    ¡°And their presence isn¡¯t necessarily a good thing.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s why I instigated starting the special Gifted program in the major Gifted schools,¡± Inevitability said with a frown. ¡°If you Oaths had been on board from the start we would be more confident with their arrival.¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± she protested. ¡°I was on your side for the entire thing. What do you mean ¡®you Oaths¡¯?¡±


    A soft smile touched Inevitability¡¯s lips. ¡°Yes, Ru. You were with me from the start. I meant the others.¡±


    ¡°Good. But enough of them are on board, and the schools have agreed. It should be something that we can make happen now. Right?¡±


    Inevitability nodded. ¡°Right. I¡¯ve already confirmed that they are implementing it into this semester¡¯s program.¡±


    ¡°Question.¡±


    ¡°Answer,¡± Inevitability replied.


    ¡°Who got the [Demon King]?¡±


    Inevitability chuckled. ¡°Isn¡¯t it kind of funny that Madness and War got two Gifted kids?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± Ruth shook her head. ¡°They are the only two Oaths known in our history to ever fall in love. At this rate, any surprising thing that they do isn¡¯t really surprising.¡±


    Inevitability tipped his head from side to side in thought. ¡°Maybe. But how funny is it that one of them got the [Demon King] class. I mean, there¡¯s no record of such a class.¡±


    ¡°A unique class for a unique couple.¡±


    Ruth reached for the radio and Inevitability slapped her hand away.


    ¡°No touching.¡±


    Ruth groaned but took her hand away. Ever since the first time he¡¯d driven her and she¡¯d played love songs the entire ride, he had never allowed her connect to any car he was driving or choose the radio station.


    ¡°What was his second kid¡¯s class again?¡± she asked, rubbing the back of her palm more out of habit than pain.


    ¡°[Faker],¡± Inevitability answered. ¡°An interesting class by my standards.¡±


    ¡°Interesting but unliked. He¡¯s going to have a tough time out in the world.¡±


    Inevitability nodded. ¡°True enough. So, I say we offer Madness and War some benefits.¡±


    ¡°Benefits?¡±


    ¡°Uhuh. Assistances we can give if they agree to forgive you with minimal punishments.¡±


    ¡°Like?¡±


    ¡°Adding their kid into the special program.¡±


    Ruth shook her head. ¡°I doubt that will work. Didn¡¯t the [Demon King] get scouted by a few of the major schools?¡±


    ¡°All five of them,¡± Inevitability confirmed. ¡°But not the [Faker].¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure the [Demon King] is getting into the special program.¡±


    Inevitability nodded.


    ¡°Are you sure the [Faker] can get into the program?¡±


    Inevitability shook his head. ¡°I believe he¡¯s a B-rank. The program is for classes that no one has heard of, [Invokers], S-ranks, and Unranked.¡±


    ¡°A [Faker] won¡¯t cut it.¡±


    ¡°If he was S-rank he would.¡± Inevitability shook his head. ¡°But since I spear headed the operation, I don¡¯t mind using some of my influence to pull some strings.¡±


    ¡°Favoritism isn¡¯t a good quality, Chetam.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a negotiation strategy. A worthy one.¡±


    Ruth sighed, suddenly deflating at his words. ¡°For peace to reign among the Oaths.¡±


    Inevitability snorted. ¡°Believe me, this has nothing to do with the Oaths. You¡¯ve always held yourself to a certain esteem even among the Oaths. And I remember warning you to stay away from Madness¡¯ bad side but you never listened.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still sure I can take him,¡± Ruth grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s just going to be annoying because he doesn¡¯t play by any rules. Then I¡¯m at a handicap with the whole [August Intruder] thing. What is our plan on that matter, by the way?¡±


    ¡°Judging by how powerful they possibly are, we will have to negotiate on meeting them.¡± Inevitability didn¡¯t sound the slightest bit bothered. He rarely ever did.


    ¡°The dominance thing,¡± Ruth mused.


    She couldn¡¯t begin to imagine how to handle someone whose dominance spanned the entire world. They had to be a monster. It was the only explanation.


    ¡°What if Madness chooses to keep them for himself?¡± she asked.


    Inevitability took a moment to look at her, turning the car into a residential area. They were flanked now by slow moving vehicles and residential buildings. ¡°Madness doesn¡¯t strike me as being that level of petty.¡±


    ¡°But if his wife is coming, then she would be more than willing to use that as a negotiation tactic to have me punished. You know how she can be. Everything with her is a negotiation.¡±


    ¡°Then negotiate, we shall.¡± Inevitability shrugged. ¡°So you best be prepared to lose some important things.¡±


    Ruth frowned. ¡°I¡¯m willing to give up some of my assets.¡±


    ¡°Money is not an issue for them but that¡¯s a start.¡± He turned their car down another road and Ruth spotted a church not too far in the distance. ¡°But you might have to do more than that.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Like make some concessions.¡±


    ¡°No!¡±


    Inevitability nodded casually. ¡°Yes. You laid your bed, so we have to lie down in it.¡±


    Ruth kept her eyes on him as he kept his eyes on the road, finally turning into a compound, the gates sliding open to let him in.


    There was just something about the way he had said the word ¡®we¡¯.


    Do you have feelings for me, Chetam?


    It was a question she couldn¡¯t ask. It was a question that had plagued her for so many years. Why? It was simple.


    Everyone always speculated that an Oath has that one thing that superseded even the compulsion of their Oath-hood ever since what had happened to War. For her it had been her family, so strong had it been that she had given up her Oath-hood somehow.


    Finding out what it was for the other Oaths had been one of the things Inevitability had been trying to find out for years now. If he knew his own, he never told anybody.


    For Ruth, however, she knew what exactly it was.


    It was him.


    Oath-hood be damned, she would watch the world burn if it meant protecting him.


    But she would never tell him that.


    The car pulled to a gentle stop and Inevitability turned the engine off. In front of them, three people stood; a man and two women.


    They were conversing easily. Three of the five new Oaths in the last decade. The man was the newest of them, becoming an Oath only yesterday.


    The Oath of Desolation, the interface had announced him to be.


    Ruth unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, Inevitability following after her almost immediately.


    The moment they got down, Ruth registered the touch of worry and confusion on the faces of the two ladies.


    ¡°What is¡ª¡±


    ¡°Now that we are all here,¡± a voice she did not recognize said from the side. ¡°I believe we should get this on the way.¡±


    She turned to the sound and was met with the sight of an elderly man. He stood with a straight back and freckled cheeks. The crowfeet at the edge of his eyes looked regal somehow, like they belonged on the face of an age-old king.


    He had eyes of the deepest gold. Gold not amber.


    He stood quietly, clad in a blue robe and standing with a walking stick he clearly did not need. He was like an impatient grandfather standing in the presence of his grandchildren.


    Ruth had never seen him before. And judging from the words that came out of Inevitability¡¯s mouth, neither had he.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Inevitability asked.


    ¡°Me?¡± the man asked with raised brows. ¡°I¡¯m like you. An Oath.¡±


    Ruth moved around the car to stand beside Inevitability. ¡°You¡¯re not any Oath I¡¯ve ever heard of.¡±


    Golden eyes moved slowly over to her. ¡°So loyal.¡± The man said it like a passing comment, a simple observation. ¡°But it changes nothing. You¡¯ve done well so far Inevitability. Not as well as your predecessor but definitely well, with what you¡¯ve had to work with.¡±


    Inevitability¡¯s eyes narrowed in a threatening manner. Ruth could understand why. From what they knew about Oath-hood, they were not the first. However, the last recorded Oath before them had died at least a hundred years before their birth.


    The man in front of them could not have known anything about them unless he¡¯d done his own research.


    ¡°I will ask you one more time, then I will bring violence upon you.¡± Inevitability¡¯s shoulders tightened slightly, easing him into a combat state. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Enough with the posturing, old man.¡±


    Everyone¡¯s heads looked up, and there, standing on the balcony, was the woman that was once the Oath of War.


    ¡°Mystery only works when you know something everyone doesn¡¯t,¡± she continued. ¡°And unfortunately, you do not. My husband has asked that you introduce yourself quickly so that we can get this entire thing done.¡±


    Ruth grew uncomfortable. Just how much did Madness and his wife know. Just how much of the knowledge that came with being the [August Intruder] had the [August Intruder] imparted on them.


    The old man held his arms out on both sides. Somehow, he made the action look like an apologetic bow without even bowing.


    ¡°You have my apologies, former Oath of War.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not the one to apologize to.¡± War turned and walked back into the building. ¡°Apologize to my husband when you see him.¡±


    The old man had a grin on his face when she was gone and Ruth and Inevitability gave him an expectant look, along with the three other Oaths present.


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± the old man muttered. ¡°An introduction.¡±


    He placed his staff on the ground, struck it hard enough for the sound of its impact to ring loud. It was an announcement of himself. The man wasn¡¯t about to introduce himself to them, he was about to declare his presence.


    ¡°I,¡± he said regally, ¡°am an Oath that has walked the world for so long that time knows me by name. I have seen people rise and people fall. Cities and empires. And, maybe one day, worlds. I was friend to Gilgamesh, king of Uruk, first of his name, unknown adopted brother to the great Enkidu. I am the Oath of Life.¡±


    Ruth¡¯s frown deepened. Oath of Life? The old bastard sounded like nothing but a new threat. But he wasn¡¯t done. He clearly had something else to say.


    With a grandfatherly smile, he said one more thing and his words settled upon them like a heavy mantle.


    ¡°To some civilizations,¡± he finished. ¡°I am called Melchizedek.¡±

 ONE HUNDRED AND ONE: Come!

    It had been just over a week since their parents had shown them the training ground that was only accessible through the garden in the backyard. Even though there was no proof of it, Melmarc liked to think of the space as a training ground located just under the garden.


    Considering the fact that it had been a teleportation spell that had sent them from the garden to the location, it was safe that for all he knew, the place could be located on the other side of the world.


    Still, the idea of being under the garden felt safer.


    ¡°Again?¡± Ark asked, looking to Uncle Dorthna.


    Uncle Dorthna stood leaning against the wall on one end. They were once again within the training space. The black arena was still off in Melmarc¡¯s eye. It was the only way he could describe it. They glistened and, while the complete blackness of the titles walls and floor cast the place in a shadowy light, they glistened enough as if reflecting light. It made the place dim enough to see in yet give you the sense that there were things present that you simply weren¡¯t aware of.


    It was strange because there was no source of light that Melmarc could see to explain the glistening black tiles.


    Uncle Dorthna looked up from the palm of his hand. ¡°What¡¯s the score now on sparring?¡±


    ¡°Fifteen to zero,¡± Ark replied, smug.


    ¡°One,¡± Melmarc corrected.


    Uncle Dorthna shook his head. ¡°You cheated so that one didn¡¯t count.¡±


    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t my fault,¡± Melmarc groaned. He pointed an accusatory finger at Ark who still had aa smug smile on his face. ¡°He used a skill.¡±


    Ark laughed. ¡°It¡¯s called a feint.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna pushed off the wall. ¡°He¡¯s right, Mel. He made aa feint, and you fell for it.¡±


    Ark rubbed his thigh as if he could still feel the pain from hitting the ground a little too hard from the shoulder throw Melmarc had given him during the spar they were talking about three days ago.


    Ark had seemed like he was about to use a skill and Melmarc had panicked. He¡¯d ended up activating [Knowledge is Power]. He¡¯d taken Ark¡¯s fist to the face head on and had capitalized on it to thrown him over the shoulder. Not anticipating it, Ark had landed poorly.


    ¡°Your parents set a rule for your spars,¡± Uncle Dorthna was saying as he walked up to them. ¡°Remember what it is?¡±


    ¡°No skills during the sparring sessions,¡± Melmarc grumbled.


    Ark folded his arms over his chest. ¡°They said nothing about feinting with it.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna came to a stop in front of them and looked at Ark. ¡°How did you even get him to fall for a skill that you didn¡¯t even activate.¡±


    Ark¡¯s gaze moved to Melmarc and Melmarc took it from there.


    ¡°I know him well enough,¡± he answered. ¡°He used that to his advantage.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s always been able to tell when I¡¯m about to be sneaky,¡± Ark supplied. ¡°I learnt a few of my tells long ago¡ªnot all of them, though.¡±


    ¡°So he just used one of them and the rest is history.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna looked between the both of them. ¡°So Ark used your knowledge of him against you?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    Uncle Dorthna made a face that said he was impressed. ¡°That¡¯s battle IQ right there. Either that or you really haven¡¯t been putting up a fight against your brother.¡±


    ¡°I had him in that jaw lock the other day,¡± Melmarc pointed out.


    ¡°And he somehow managed to turn it into an ankle lock that you tapped to.¡±


    ¡°He was going to break my ankle.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna looked at Ark, and Ark nodded. ¡°I was going to.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna tilted his head to the side. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ harsh.¡±


    ¡°Not really, Spitfire would¡¯ve healed it when we got out.¡±


    Spitfire was not allowed in the training arena, so they always left it in the house. Ark had assured them that it would not destroy anything, and so far, Spitfire had lived up to his word. There was yet to be a mishap.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Dorthna said, ignoring whatever was on his palm. ¡°Today we¡¯re going to do something different.¡±


    Ark perked up. ¡°Different how?¡±


    ¡°Different as in different from what your parents said.¡±


    ¡°So you think we¡¯ve gotten this one down?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°Not even close. But there are things that can be taught in one night and things that take years to learn. This can¡¯t be taught in a month.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve only been training for a week, Uncle D,¡± Ark pointed out.


    Uncle Dorthna looked at him then sighed. ¡°You¡¯ve always been the troublesome one. I bet people think you¡¯re just violence and no brains.¡±


    Ark nodded with a grin.


    Dorthna looked at Melmarc. ¡°And you¡¯re okay with people thinking that your smart older brother is nothing but a brute?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°It works to his favor so I can¡¯t complain. Besides, I know that he¡¯s smart, so there¡¯s that.¡±


    Dorthna reached into his pockets suddenly and tossed something at them. Melmarc and Ark already knew what was happening and they snatched each item out of the air. Melmarc felt the impact of what he caught in his grip and was already groaning.


    Ark pumped a fist in the air, lowering his hand. Opening it revealed a small ball with a lot of cracks running along it.


    ¡°You failed,¡± Dorthna said.


    ¡°I know.¡± Ark looked at Melmarc. ¡°But he failed more.¡±


    Sighing, Melmarc opened his hand and Ark was right. The ball in his hand was a shattered mess. It had broken on impact.


    Dorthna looked at it. ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it. Like I said, not something that can be learnt in a month.¡±


    The reason their parents had them sparring without skills wasn¡¯t for the sake of safety, even thought that was also a reason. The major reason, however, was to teach them how to control their strengths. According to Uncle Dorthna, the trick was to control their strengths in intense situations. Their urge to win would make them pull out a lot of strength while their love for each other would make them hold back their strengths so that they don¡¯t injure themselves seriously.


    ¡°The both of you are going to get stronger than any Gifted you know faster than any Gifted you know.¡± Uncle Dorthna took a significant step back. ¡°What your parents are teaching you is how not to hug your sister in excitement when you see her and accidentally snap her back.¡±


    Ark raised his hand like a student in class. ¡°No worries on that from my end. I don¡¯t love her that much.¡± He looked at Melmarc. ¡°They must be talking about you.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow at him. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Hey,¡± Ark raised both hands and stepped back, ¡°you¡¯re the one that keeps asking me to call her.¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard from her since I got back.¡±


    ¡°And mom already told you that she¡¯s fine. Why didn¡¯t you ask them to call her for you.¡±


    ¡°Because I have you,¡± Melmarc said as if that explained everything, which it was supposed to. ¡°Why should I be disturbing them?¡±


    ¡°Because they are your parents?¡±


    Melmarc gave it a thought. ¡°Fair point.¡±


    ¡°I knew you¡¯ll realized it eventually.¡±


    ¡°Changes nothing, you¡¯re still calling her tonight.¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°Buy your own phone. You¡¯ve been phoneless since you got back. You haven¡¯t even gotten in touch with your friends.¡±


    Normally, that would give Melmarc a pause, but it didn¡¯t. He was very much aware of the fact that Delano and Eroms still didn¡¯t know that he was around. He was also aware of the fact that if they tried to call him, there was no way to reach him.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    They could always visit to check on him, but Melmarc couldn¡¯t remember ever getting a surprise visit from them. They either followed him home or visited him after making plans that involved visiting him.


    Now that Melmarc thought about it, he doubted he or anyone in the house had ever gotten surprise visits before.


    ¡°If you¡¯re both done bickering, can we continue?¡± Dorthna asked, still waiting patiently.


    Melmarc looked down at the pieces of the small orb in his hand and let them fall from his palm as he always did.


    When it came to strength control, Ark had the upper arm. He was better at it, gauging his strength as much and as well as he wanted.


    Ark threw his own orb over his shoulder, abandoning it to fall wherever it wanted. ¡°Alright then, what¡¯s next?¡±


    ¡°Do you two still remember how to fight with your skills?¡± Uncle Dorthna asked.


    Melmarc had a momentary flashback of his time in the portal and his fight against the Demi-god. He nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna cocked a brow at him. ¡°No PTSD?¡±


    ¡°Nothing I can¡¯t handle,¡± Melmarc said, shaking his head.


    Ark gave him a worried look. ¡°You sure? You still sleep on the floor.¡±


    ¡°Because it¡¯s more comfortable.¡± Melmarc frowned.


    ¡°It¡¯s still the floor,¡± Ark said. ¡°Try sleeping on the bed for once and let¡¯s see what happens. Fallen High might not take kindly to sleeping on the floor.¡±


    Melmarc sighed. ¡°That¡¯s if they¡¯ll take me.¡±


    ¡°If they take you or not doesn¡¯t matter in the greater scheme of things,¡± Uncle Dorthna pointed out. ¡°What matters is if you still know how to fight with your skills.¡±


    Again, Melmarc nodded. ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± Ark said at the same time.


    Over the days, Uncle Dorthna had seen what their individual skills had been capable of. Melmarc had tested a few of his skills as well. Unsurprisingly, like [Rings of Saturn], [Weight of Jupiter] had an activation sequence, an action he needed to take to activate it.


    ¡°Here¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°The both of you are going to spar with your skills.¡±


    Melmarc gulped, thinking of the destructive power of [Rings of Saturn].


    As if reading his mind, Uncle Dorthna continued, ¡°No [Rings of Saturn] or [Secrecy]. And no shadow fire.¡±


    ¡°Shadow fire?¡± Ark asked confused.


    Uncle Dorthna gestured randomly. ¡°That black fire that you can use.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that. But why did you call it Shadow fire?¡±


    ¡°I knew a guy once who could use it. He called it shadow fire.¡±


    ¡°What happened to him?¡±


    A sad look crossed Uncle Dorthna¡¯s face. ¡°His story ended. Now let¡¯s get back to business. Create some space and we can get started.¡±


    Ark started walking off to the side.


    Melmarc did the same, increasing the distance between them. ¡°Is this safe?¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t die,¡± Uncle Dorthna said casually. ¡°Does that work for you?¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°Do we get to keep our limbs?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he looked down at his palm. ¡°You should?¡±


    ¡°Uncle D,¡± Melmarc protested, and their uncle chuckled.


    ¡°Yes, yes. You get to keep your limbs, too. But keep in mind that the pain will be real.¡±


    Melmarc and Ark were already standing a good distance from each other now, prepared for what would come next.


    ¡°Remember,¡± Uncle Dorthna said, walking back to where he¡¯d been standing for most of the day, ¡°No pure mana.¡±


    ¡°Or Shadow fire,¡± Ark added.


    ¡°Same thing.¡± Uncle Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Now, begin.¡±


    Wait, what?


    The distraction of finding out that Shadow fire had something to do with pure mana was enough that Melmarc¡¯s movement was delayed.


    Ark crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye and Melmarc was met with the sight of a fist coming straight for his eye. He raised his hand, slapping the fist aside with all his might. He¡¯d been sparring with Ark long enough to know that his brother was significantly stronger than him.


    Ark¡¯s fist clipped Melmarc¡¯s jaw slightly, its trajectory thrown off course by Melmarc¡¯s deflection. As Ark missed, Melmarc moved to the side to get around him, but Ark was already spinning so that they faced each other.


    Melmarc closed the distance between them and Ark opened his mouth in response. Melmarc hesitated for only a moment before ducking to the side and falling into a roll. Fire spewed from Ark¡¯s mouth as if from a flame thrower. It was accompanied by a loud noise that sounded like a low roar.


    But it wasn¡¯t just a simple burst of fire. Ark turned his head in Melmarc¡¯s direction and the flames continued to flow and spread.


    Melmarc was already on his feet and running to the side. His brain was already running through possibilities. He could use [Knowledge is Power]. It would protect him and he could close the distance with it. But there was the pain to think about.


    He also didn¡¯t want to be a predictable one trick pony. He wasn¡¯t going to be the guy who reacted to specific attacks in one way.


    Jumping back, he increased the distance between him and his brother. Ark, however, simply stepped forward, spewing more flames from his mouth.


    Melmarc thought of throwing something at Ark but there was nothing to throw.


    Maybe I could¡ª


    Melmarc¡¯s entire attention flashed to something coming at him from the side and he found himself ducking again. A whip of fire flashed over him, cutting through the air where his head had been only a moment ago.


    Having dodged it, Melmarc looked up to find the whip extending from one of the areas where Ark¡¯s fire was still burning.


    A frown marred his lips as Ark stopped breathing out fire.


    ¡°Neat, right?¡± Ark said as he raised both arms and four whips of fire danced from the flames around them. ¡°My control got better when it hit twenty percent.¡± He grinned. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing.¡±


    Melmarc remembered that [Will of Hades] gave Ark some level of resistance to heat and fire as well as some level of control. But the level of control had almost been insignificant. This, however, was far from insignificant.


    ¡°You specialized,¡± Melmarc said, unable to help the accusation in his voice.


    ¡°You say that like it¡¯s an accusation.¡± Ark looked smug. ¡°But yes, I did. At ten percent and twenty percent. Now I get to do this.¡±


    The first whip snapped at Melmarc and he took the hit with raised arms. He hissed at the pain that came with being burnt by it. He wasn¡¯t sure if Ark was holding back or if the flames just weren¡¯t that strong.


    Ark didn¡¯t seem bothered. He simply made another gesture and another whip snapped out. Melmarc took notice of it. Ark needed gestures to use the skill. He wondered if they were similar to how he needed gestures to use his rings of mana or if it was Ark¡¯s method of looking cool or just another feint designed to confuse him.


    The entire space was lit up in the orange and red colors of fire as Ark¡¯s flames continued to spread even though he was no longer generating them. In the distance, Uncle Dorthna simply watched them, unbothered.


    Melmarc took his cue from their uncle and concluded that what was happening wasn¡¯t a problem. They didn¡¯t have to worry about the fire causing too much trouble.


    ¡°You should really learn to take the pain,¡± Uncle Dorthna said casually. ¡°It¡¯s a part of your skill so you might as well get it over with.¡±


    As much as Melmarc hated to admit it, their uncle was right. He would not be able to do anything to Ark if he couldn¡¯t get close to him, especially with his ranged skill from [Rings of Saturn] being barred from the fight.


    ¡°That¡¯s cheating,¡± Ark said. ¡°You don¡¯t get to coach him.¡±


    That much was true, but Melmarc already had all the motivation he needed.


    [You have used skill Knowledge is Power]


    The moment the burst of mana left him, Melmarc charged Ark.


    Ark drew his hands together the moment he saw Melmarc coming and raised them in an offensive stance. Melmarc braced himself against the pain as he rushed through the fire. He clenched his teeth against the pain and the heat as parts of his clothes caught on fire.


    As for Ark, the whips of fire he had raised pooled to his hands, wrapping around his upper arm and his fists like chains.


    That¡¯s a terrifying level of control.


    Melmarc got to Ark and tried to tackle him, knowing very well that he could not inflict damage. So he was trying to pin him down.


    Ark slipped from his reach easily, hitting with a two strike combo as Melmarc turned to face him. Melmarc¡¯s combat instincts took over and he slapped the first blow aside with an open fist only for the second to hit him in the chest a little too fast for him to stop.


    Pain flared in his chest, but it wasn¡¯t anything that he could not handle. He swung at Ark and Ark parried the blow easily. Pain flared in Melmarc¡¯s hand as he realized that his brother was currently using a combination of skills that gave him a good offense and defense at the same time.


    Ark had a smile on his face as he hopped gently on the balls of his feet.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have to hit fast or hit strong,¡± Ark said, fists still raised.


    ¡°Or I can tackle you.¡±


    Melmarc rushed Ark again, hunched low for another tackle. Ark raised his knee to meet Melmarc¡¯s attack.


    It¡¯s just pain, Melmarc told himself. If he barreled into the leg, he could send his brother flying as long as he didn¡¯t allow the pain stop him.


    It was looking like a good plan until aa whip of fire shot out from the flames around them to wrap itself around Ark¡¯s raised leg. Then Ark moved the leg, turned a raised knee into a downward sweeping kick.


    Knowing how much pain would come from that one, Melmarc threw himself to the side. The fire around them drew in closer when he did, and he found himself tumbling through the flames. His clothes caught aflame and Melmarc saw the static burst of mana from [Knowledge is Power] coming back to him.


    Shit, he cursed as he rolled out of the flames ripping away at his currently burning clothes. The last thing he needed was to be wearing burning clothes when [Knowledge is Power] ended.


    Judging from the smirk on Ark¡¯s face, his brother was fully aware of his panic and had probably planned it too.


    This was why Melmarc hated fighting his brother. Put Ark in a combat situation and his IQ suddenly developed a multiplier and he started thinking like some high level genius.


    He planned this, Melmarc realized as he ripped the last of his shirt from his torso.


    Ark cocked a brow in appreciation. ¡°You¡¯ve got abs. Cool.¡±


    Melmarc ignored the compliment as the burst of mana finally hit him. The first thing he noticed was the green indicator above Ark¡¯s head.


    It was good to know that their current training did not designate Ark as a threat.


    [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]


    [All stats are increased by +1.5.]


    [Life forms detected: 2.]


    [You have received 2 Potential buffs.]


    [???????](Mastery -1000000.00%)


    ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????


    [Will of Hades](Mastery 16.02%)


    The Demon possesses a slight resistance to fire.


    Something was off. Melmarc remembered copying the skill once upon a time and didn¡¯t remember the description talking about Demons. It had said Gifted the last time. He was sure of it.


    So what did it mean that it said ¡®Demon¡¯ now that it was over ten percent.


    Melmarc shoved the thought in a corner as he felt a strange connection to the fire around them. He pulled on it instinctively and the flames wavered slightly.


    ¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t.¡± Ark charged him, a smile on his face that said he was enjoying himself.


    But as fast as he was, he was not fast enough. As the flames pooled to Melmarc, large and chaotic, unlike Ark¡¯s whips, Melmarc watched his brother brace for impact and knew that he was about to be tackled.


    If he dodged, it could possibly break his connection to the fire around him.


    Then don¡¯t dodge.


    Melmarc raised a single foot off the ground and slammed it back down. It was the activation sequence for his new skill. As the flames gathered to him, his interface came to life.


    [You have used skill Will of Hades]


    ¡­


    [You have used skill Weight of Jupiter]


    Melmarc felt himself grow heavier, his weight increasing at a quick pace. His view was slightly obstructed by the flames that gathered to him. Through the obstruction, he saw Ark¡¯s smile widen into something maniacal.


    It took Melmarc only a moment to realize that Ark knew exactly what he had done and had still chosen to barrel right into him.


    It¡¯s a test of strength, Melmarc realized.


    He clenched his teeth, slightly excited at the very idea of it. Sometimes, when waging war against an ally, you respected their determination and gave back just as good as they gave.


    Melmarc steadied his feet beneath him. Consumed by the flames around him and shirtless as he was, he felt like a Viking, like a terrifying thing that belonged in stories that terrified children.


    He felt like a mountain set ablaze.


    He braced for impact and met his brother¡¯s smile with one of his own. His response to his brother was supposed to come out as a softly spoken word, but it did not. And Melmarc could not help it.


    ¡°Come!¡± he roared.


    And Ark barreled right into him.

 ONE HUNDRED AND TWO: Voodoo

    The sound of laughter filled the air, mingling with the slowly dying heat. The air was filled with the orange light of fire.


    Melmarc rolled on his side, laughter spilling from his lips and winced. Pain flared in his side so terribly that he had to return to his position on his back. Still, he did not stop laughing. He could not stop laughing.


    ¡°That bad?¡± Ark¡¯s voice came from beside Melmarc.


    Melmarc turned his head to the side. His neck hurt a lot. He hoped he hadn¡¯t broken anything important in there.


    I can still move.


    As far as he was concerned, it meant that he had not broken anything important.


    Ark was lying down next to him, sprawled on the ground just like Melmarc. He stared up at the ceiling laughing almost as loudly as Melmarc. His laughter slowly died off into a soft chuckle.


    Ark turned his head to look at Melmarc but didn¡¯t wince. ¡°That bad?¡± he repeated.


    Melmarc wanted to nod but the action hurt his neck. ¡°I think we broke a rib.¡±


    Ark smiled and looked back up. ¡°A rib?¡± He shook his head. ¡°I think I broke more than a rib.¡±


    Something pressed against Melmarc¡¯s side and he grunted in pain. The pressure increased and he had half the mind to activate [Knowledge is Power]. The skill was becoming something of a crutch. The thought of pain was becoming synonymous with the urge to activate the skill.


    Turning his head he found Uncle Dorthna standing over him, a foot against his side. His uncle¡¯s foot pressed a little harder.


    Yep, Melmarc confirmed with a grimace. Definitely more than two broken ribs.


    Uncle Dorthna shoved Melmarc on his side with a push from his foot. Melmarc turned and groaned some more. The pain was unbecoming.


    Ark¡¯s eyes shot up to their Uncle Dorthna and Melmarc thought he saw something threatening in them.


    ¡°Careful, Ark,¡± Uncle Dorthna said unbothered. ¡°At some point you¡¯re going to have to learn how to control those heightened emotions. You don¡¯t want to be known as the guy with mood swings.¡±


    At their uncle¡¯s words, the threat in Ark¡¯s eyes disappeared.


    Well, that¡¯s new.


    ¡°So,¡± Uncle Dorthna began, ¡°what inspired that level of insanity?¡±


    Melmarc looked up at him. ¡°What madness?¡±


    But even as the words left his mouth, he knew what their uncle was talking about. It was stupid of him to have faced Ark in a clash of strength.


    The fire was dying around them now. It took Melmarc a moment to realize that he could not feel the heat from the flames. To him, they were like a soft touch against his skin. There was something there but he could not feel exactly what it was.


    Uncle Dorthna was still looking at the flames, surveying how much of it there was. ¡°As I was saying, this madness.¡± He looked down at Melmarc with a raised brow. ¡°Why did you think that a mana class like you could take on a strength class like your brother?¡±


    Melmarc moved to shrug and he found out something was broken in his shoulder. Just how hard did we clash.


    Ark chuckled to his side. ¡°In his defense, he broke my arm.¡±


    ¡°You broke your arm,¡± Uncle Dorthna corrected. ¡°What kind of fighter charges in with his arms in front of him. You charge with your shoulder.¡±


    Ark chuckled lightly. ¡°No idea what you¡¯re talking about, uncle.¡±


    Dorthna shook his head and sighed. ¡°You know what, I just can¡¯t with the both of you.¡±


    Melmarc did not miss the smile on his uncle¡¯s face.


    Dorthna raised his hand and it glowed a soft purple. With a flick of his wrist there was a gust of wind and the flames were gone, blown away.


    ¡°That¡¯s trippy,¡± Ark muttered, impressed.


    ¡°Magic does a lot of things.¡± Uncle Dorthna slapped his hands together. ¡°Now, get up. Both of you.¡±


    Melmarc groaned. ¡°Broken ribs and a busted shoulder.


    Ark raised up one hand. ¡°Busted arm.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m very much aware,¡± Dorthna said. ¡°But if you want me to heal it, then you¡¯ll look beyond the pain and get up. Did you allow your pain stop you in the portal, Mel?¡±


    Melmarc remembered when one of the [Damned] he¡¯d faced in the portal had struck him in the chest and sent him flying. He¡¯d been up on his feet before it had gotten the chance to get to him.


    He remembered saving the leader of the Delvers that had come for him when he had been in the chamber of the Demi-god. The thought of the demi-god brought his attention to the faces that had been in the walls.


    ¡°Uncle D.¡± Melmarc turned on his side to get up, groaning in pain.


    Uncle Dorthna stepped back to give him some breathing space. ¡°I¡¯m listening, kid.¡±


    Melmarc groaned, a gasp leaving his lips as he pushed himself up with one of his arms. The pain translated to his shoulder and his arm almost gave out under him. Taking a moment to breathe, he looked up to find Ark already on his feet, watching him with a smile.


    ¡°Not fair at all,¡± he said.


    Ark smiled. ¡°Next time, to go head on with a strength class.¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. His brother standing above him was all the motivation he needed to push himself up through the final motions.


    ¡°That hurts like a motherfucker,¡± he swore once he was on his feet.


    ¡°So,¡± Dorthna looked at him. ¡°What did you want?¡±


    ¡°What comes to mind when you hear bodies fused to the wall that can sing?¡±


    ¡°Bound sacrifices,¡± their uncle said without missing a beat. ¡°Personally, I think that¡¯s a boring sacrificial method. Why?¡±


    ¡°Saw something like that in the portal I went into.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna nodded slowly as he walked up to Ark. ¡°Where does it hurt?¡±


    Ark raised his left arm. ¡°I think I hit him the wrong way.¡±


    ¡°Think?¡± Their uncle cocked a brow. ¡°There¡¯s no thinking to be had, you hit him the wrong way.¡± He touched a hand to Ark¡¯s arm and the arm glowed a soft green.


    Melmarc watched red particles of mana seep from the arm until the arm started producing green particles. Each particle came to life, shooting away from Ark to hover in a void out of Uncle Dorthna¡¯s reach. Even the green particles did the same.


    Uncle Dorthna dropped his hand and turned to Melmarc. ¡°Your turn.¡±


    ¡°Ribs and shoulder,¡± Melmarc said as his uncle approached him.


    ¡°Got it.¡±


    His uncle placed a hand on his shoulder and Melmarc felt a warm trickle go through his shoulder. Curious, he looked down at his shoulder hoping to see particles of mana.


    Nothing.


    All he saw was a shoulder. It wasn¡¯t even glowing green. As usual, there were no mana particles around him, all of them keeping a distance from him and his uncle.


    ¡°[August Intruders] don¡¯t let out mana in certain situations,¡± his uncle said. ¡°You are more of an internal thing than your brother.¡±


    The tingle in his shoulder eased into nonexistence and his uncle took his hand away.


    ¡°Lift your right arm,¡± Uncle Dorthna instructed.


    Even though the pain in his ribs was on the otherside, Melmarc raised his right arm. Uncle Dorthna placed a hand on his side, right on top of his rib.


    His arm was warm against Melmarc¡¯s skin.


    ¡°You lost a lot of clothes,¡± Uncle Dorthna said as a tingle spread all over Melmarc¡¯s ribs.


    ¡°Do you think I could win in such a clash?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Ark nodded, speaking before their uncle. ¡°Yes. You can achieve anything you want to.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna sighed. ¡°No, you can¡¯t. You can¡¯t achieve anything you want. Not even with hardwork. Your brother is a strength class, you¡¯re a mana class. Unless you¡¯re smart with it, he¡¯ll beat you in a head on clash most of the time.¡±


    Their uncle took his hand from Melmarc and turned away only to stop short.


    ¡°And he didn¡¯t even use his own defensive skill,¡± he added. ¡°He has a skill that gives him scales that heightens his defense. If he had used that, you would¡¯ve lost terribly.¡±


    Melmarc shot Ark and accusatory look. There was still more about his brother¡¯s skills that he didn¡¯t know.


    He¡¯s showing me everything when we get back home.


    ¡°Alright then.¡± Uncle Dorthna stepped away from him. ¡°Time to teach you two what I want to teach you.¡±


    ¡°What you want to teach us or what mom and dad wants you to teach us?¡± Ark asked.


    Their uncle had a habit of doing things that their parents wanted him to do and passing it off as his own. Usually, it was always something that they wouldn¡¯t like. At a younger age, he had refused a lot of Ark¡¯s requests only for them to find out later on that he wasn¡¯t rejecting them, instead, he was rejecting them because their parents didn¡¯t want it.


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Dorthna said with a chuckle. ¡°If your parents find out that I¡¯m trying to teach it to you, they¡¯ll lose their minds. So let¡¯s treat this as our own little secret.¡±


    Ark and Melmarc shared a look. Being taught something that they weren¡¯t supposed to learn was definitely intriguing.


    They could both agree that they definitely wanted to learn it.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Why exactly won¡¯t they want us to learn it?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Ark groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation. ¡°You don¡¯t always have to know why, Mel.¡±


    Melmarc turned to his brother. ¡°But there could be risks. We should know the risks.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes you just have to live in the moment,¡± Ark refused. ¡°You don¡¯t always have to know the risks, just go for it. You know¡­ like how you just went for it and allowed me run into you.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°And see what that got me.¡±


    Ark dismissed his words with a nonchalant wave. ¡°But it was worth it. It was exhilarating.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth to give a response and paused. Ark was right, it had been exhilarating. But he hadn¡¯t done it because it was exhilarating. He¡¯d done it because there had been a challenge and he was in a safe enough place to meet the challenge head on.


    Right?


    Melmarc¡¯s mouth closed slowly as realization dawned on him. Ark was right, he had actually not considered the risk. He hadn¡¯t even thought about it. There was no safety or safe place, there was no logic or reasoning. He had been nothing but a small shadow of the child he had once been.


    Why had he taken Ark head on? The answer was simple. It was because at that point, he had been the strongest he had ever been physically, and he wanted to know if he could take his brother head on. He had seen the challenge, and he had taken it.


    Melmarc let out a gentle breath. When his attention returned to Ark, Ark was grinning.


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Ark said, ¡°you just have to grit your teeth, tell the world a massive fuck you, and do what you¡¯ve got to do.¡±


    ¡°And sometimes you just go get yourself killed.¡± Dorthna¡¯s voice cut through everything and he smacked Ark over the head. ¡°Don¡¯t go corrupting your brother¡¯s logical thinking with your charge in and violate everything mentality.¡±


    Ark winced, rubbing the back of his head. ¡°I don¡¯t violate anything,¡± he grumbled.


    ¡°As for Mel¡¯s question,¡± Dorthna continued. ¡°Your parents will not be happy to hear that I¡¯m teaching you this because it is technically an impossible skill to learn. Only a handful of people are capable of using it and your mother isn¡¯t one of them.¡±


    ¡°What of dad?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°He can because of his Oath.¡± Uncle Dorthna paused. ¡°Well, if I¡¯m being honest, I think your dad would still be able to do it without the Oath thing. He¡¯s got a thing to him that has always been fun.¡±


    ¡°Who else can do it?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°Some Oath of Inevitability. Mel will probably run into him at some point. Then the Oath of Life, but that¡¯s only due to living for so long. That number one guy in your Delver ranking system.¡±


    ¡°The guy with the [Unbound] class?¡± Mel asked.


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°Then a handful of others.¡±


    ¡°Which means we¡¯ll be in the handful of people?¡± Ark asked, excited.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded.


    Ark gave Melmarc a taunting look. ¡°And you wanted to know the risks. Imagine if he¡¯d decided not to teach us again.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s if you can learn it,¡± Dorthna emphasized. ¡°You¡¯ll need to learn it to be among the others. And I am of the opinion that the others weren¡¯t taught. It¡¯s more of something you learn on instinct.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that this is another thing Ark is going to be better at,¡± Melmarc muttered rolling his shoulder. He was pleased to find no discomfort. Then he turned from side to side. His ribs were good, too. ¡°So what¡¯s it?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna took a step back and rolled both shoulders. ¡°First, I¡¯ll show you. Then I¡¯ll tell you. Practical before theory.¡±


    Ark and Melmarc nodded. ¡°Got it.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Dorthna held both hands up, palm open. ¡°Come at me.¡±


    Ark and Melmarc shared a look.


    ¡°We should attack you?¡± Melmarc asked, unsure.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Dorthna nodded. ¡°And make sure you don¡¯t hit my palm.¡±


    ¡°Is this going to be some kind of practice where you end up putting us in some kind of confused state and we just end up only hitting your palm?¡± Ark asked with a touch of disappointment.


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°Nope.¡±


    Melmarc was about to take a step forward when he paused.


    Dissonant.


    A small smile touched his lips. Well, that¡¯s going to be quite the neat trick.


    ¡°Together?¡± Ark asked.


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±


    ¡°Today, please,¡± Dorthna said.


    Ark threw the first punch, Melmarc coming up behind him. Ark aimed for their uncle¡¯s shoulder, yet, Melmarc watched his hand somehow strike one of their uncle¡¯s open palm. The moment the blow made contact, Ark was already moving to the side. Melmarc came in with a punch to the solar plexus.


    The moment his fist made contact, Melmarc had an odd feeling. It was as if his fist was guided away from Dorthna¡¯s solar plexus. One minute he was aimed low, the next moment his fist was going over their uncle¡¯s shoulder. Having thrown so much effort into the punch, Melmarc found himself staggering to the side.


    Ark did not follow up after his attack, however. He just stood there, staring.


    ¡°What part of together did you not understand?¡± Dorthna asked, seeming bored. ¡°You¡¯ll need to put a little more teamwork into this.¡±


    ¡°Aim high,¡± Ark suggested in a low voice, moving to stand next to Melmarc.


    Dorthna turned accordingly, keeping them in front of him.


    Melmarc nodded in response to Ark. It made sense. Uncle Dorthna wasn¡¯t a short man, but he was shorter than the both of them.


    They¡¯d initially aimed low because Dorthna had his palms held up. It had been the logical course of action if they didn¡¯t want to hit his palms.


    ¡°Aim for the head,¡± Melmarc said.


    Ark nodded and they struck at the same time. Melmarc went for Dorthna¡¯s shoulder while Ark went straight for their uncle¡¯s head.


    It made no difference. Melmarc¡¯s fist struck the flesh of their uncle¡¯s palm before being moved aside. However, unlike the last time, as he was directed away, he spun into it and followed up with a spinning elbow. His elbow struck flesh and was once more directed to the side.


    It was as if each strike was being guided upwards by the wind and straight into their uncle¡¯s palm, but Melmarc was sure that it wasn¡¯t the case. On different occasions he¡¯d watched Uncle Dorthna¡¯s palm and had gone for where he was certain that it was not, only to find his attack being deflected by the palm where it was. As if he had gone for the palm and not where he¡¯d initially gone.


    Ark did not stick to the orthodox method of attacks. While Melmarc found his fists and elbows consistently being turned aside, Ark was more adventurous. He struck with his fists and elbows. When those did not work, he struck with his legs and found victory there.


    For every low kick, their uncle simply raised his leg and checked it, sometimes stopping the kick before it even left the ground.


    After what seemed like ten minutes but had most likely only been two, Melmarc and Ark staggered away from their uncle. Each of them bore a touch of disbelief. But their disbelief was also stained with excitement.


    ¡°Voodoo,¡± Ark blurted suddenly, looking at Melmarc. ¡°It¡¯s got to be.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ in summary¡­ Magic,¡± Melmarc said.


    Ark nodded. ¡°I know it sounds preposterous but that¡¯s the only explanation.


    ¡°Ark.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    Melmarc pointed between the both of them. ¡°We are Gifted. We are magic. Of course, its magic.¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°Not just magic. Voodoo.¡±


    Their uncle chuckled lightly at their conversation. ¡°Are you guys done?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Ark answered quickly. Melmarc felt done, though. ¡°Do we get another try?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡± Dorthna shrugged.


    ¡°Can we use our powers?¡±


    Their uncle shook his head. ¡°Not yet. That¡¯s more advanced and I don¡¯t want to have you distracted by it.¡±


    Ark nodded in acceptance, turned, and pulled Melmarc by the shoulder. They backed Dorthna and huddled together. ¡°Remember that time Ninra had us look for her shell?¡±


    ¡°The one you couldn¡¯t stop playing with? How can I forget?¡±


    Ninra had gotten a shell from where they did not know even now and Ark had developed an unhealthy habit of stealing it from her room to play with it. His version of playing with it had simply been to toss the thing around.


    Ninra had hated his constant theft, so she¡¯d taken to hiding it, until she¡¯d forgotten where she¡¯d hidden it. In the end, she¡¯d employed their help in finding it. After hours of searching, Ninra had found the shell in the garden and Ark had demanded play time with it as compensation for having him look for it.


    Unwilling to agree, Ninra had decided that they would play a game. After minutes of losing, Melmarc had come up with a plan that had still failed. Regardless of its failure, Ark had come to give it a name.


    ¡°Operation secure the shell,¡± Ark said with a wide smile, ¡°is a go.¡±


    With that, they turned and faced their uncle once more.


    Melmarc wasn¡¯t very sure of the plan and he was more than happy to voice it. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to work in this situation.¡±


    Ark disagreed. ¡°My low kicks didn¡¯t hit his palm.¡±


    ¡°Which means that¡­¡±


    ¡°Whatever he¡¯s doing has a loop hole.¡±


    Dorthna nodded slowly in confirmation. ¡°It does. Everything thing has an exploitable weakness.¡±


    Melmarc let out a frustrated sigh. It was all part of the plan. Everything they¡¯d been doing since Ark had said that the operation was a go was all part of the operation. That was Melmarc¡¯s personal disapproval with the operation; he couldn¡¯t say no to the operation once Ark put it in motion.


    ¡°So what happens?¡± he asked.


    Ark squinted in thought before answering. ¡°Up, down, up, down, left, left, right, up.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of directions.¡±


    ¡°Cheat code.¡± Ark winked. ¡°Thank me when we win.¡±


    Personally, Melmarc didn¡¯t think they were going to win. There was just something about how casually their uncle stood with his hands still held up, palm open.


    ¡°You go high, I¡¯ll go low,¡± Ark said, then he charged forward.


    Melmarc followed quickly, watching their uncle. Dorthna stood in place. His eyes moved between the both of them once before focusing on none of them.


    He¡¯s not watching us.


    The moment they got to their uncle, Ark went low, striking with a low kick that their uncle countered easily, while Melmarc sent a fist flying at their uncle¡¯s face. The result was the same.


    But operation secure the shell consisted of a series of moves with words and actions designed to throw off the opponent.


    Down, up, down, up, right, right, left, down.


    The thoughts filtered through Melmarc¡¯s mind as he obeyed. He kicked low as Ark tried to weave his way around their uncle only to be grabbed by the elbow and thrown back in place as Melmarc¡¯s kick was stopped by the sole of their uncle¡¯s foot.


    Another of his punches was turned away by their uncle¡¯s palm while Ark rushed him for a tackle. Dorthna raised a leg, predicting the attack. Ark¡¯s shoulder ran into their uncle¡¯s knee and he dropped to the ground in pain.


    Melmarc¡¯s final attack was turned aside once more. With nothing in mind, he charged their uncle once more, his mind running through what he could do to outsmart his uncle. There weren¡¯t enough ideas, punches and kicks weren¡¯t working, and Ark had all but tackled Dorthna and failed.


    Melmarc doubted grappling would work since Ark had tried to weave around him only to be drawn back into place. It left with almost no¡ª


    Bite him! Bite him! Bite him! Bite¡ªThrow me!


    The thoughts erupted from the depths of his mind and Melmarc recognized them for what they were.


    Without hesitation he threw himself bodily at their uncle, flying at him horizontally and with his back.


    There was a moment of surprise on uncle Dorthna¡¯s face as Melmarc left the ground. It was in the slight narrowing of his eyes. But it was all Melmarc could see before he was soaring through the air with his back against their uncle.


    It didn¡¯t take long before he felt a firm palm against his back. Then he was turned aside and found himself crashing into the ground.


    Melmarc broke his fall with a roll that didn¡¯t do much to reduce the pain of the impact. Still, he rolled until he was staggering back to his feet.


    Ark stared up at him with the widest smile from the ground where he still was while their uncle looked at him with a thoughtful expression.


    ¡°Good to know that you¡¯re still embodying the Oaths,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°Hopefully, you¡¯ll be able to handle the new once as they come. For now, you¡¯re doing well with the ones you have.¡±


    ¡°How did you know that that¡¯s what happened?¡± Melmarc shook off his sense of combat and re-approached them.


    ¡°Because it almost threw me off guard,¡± their uncle answered. ¡°Coming from Ark, it wouldn¡¯t have been a big deal. Coming from you, it was completely insane.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± It was all Melmarc could say.


    ¡°So, what was all that?¡± Ark was sitting on the floor, not ready to stand up.


    Dorthna looked between the both of them. His expression said that he either wanted Melmarc to sit down as Ark was or wanted Ark to stand up as Melmarc was. In the end, he settled for saying nothing on the matter.


    ¡°It¡¯s a skill I picked up long ago, during my ¡®delving¡¯ days.¡± He made air quotes for emphasis. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s mostly instinctual, and I never named it. But as years went on by, I learnt that people came to learn it, too, and some of these people gave it a name.¡±


    He paused for dramatic effect. Everyone waited for him to continue, and it didn¡¯t take Melmarc long to realize that that was the end.


    ¡°What did they call it?¡± he pressed.


    ¡°Oh, that.¡± Dorthna shrugged as if it was completely unimportant. ¡°Seikukish?¡± he frowned, shook his head. ¡°That¡¯s not it. Seikura? Seikatri?¡± he scratched the back of his head. ¡°It¡¯s something Japanese. Give me a moment, I¡¯ve got it on the tip of my tongue.¡±


    Dissonant.


    The thought erupted in Melmarc¡¯s mind. He wasn¡¯t sure if the dissonance was the part about having it at the tip of his tongue or pretending not to remember it or if it was the entire statement that was dissonant.


    I really need to learn how to differentiate it, he thought.


    Uncle Dorthna snapped his finger. ¡°Got it. Seikuken.¡±


    ¡°Does it have a meaning?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°Something about controlling the wind.¡± Dorthna dismissed the interpretation as unimportant with a gesture. ¡°In summary, what it does is predicts your opponent¡¯s attacks and your palm moves to intercept them. If you perfect it well enough, to your opponent it will feel like¡­¡±


    ¡°Something is guiding their attacks straight to your palm,¡± Melmarc finished for his uncle.


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s not what¡¯s happening,¡± Ark said, certainty in his voice.


    ¡°It is not,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°What is actually happening is that I am fully aware of what you want to do the moment you start doing it. Since you strike faster than your eye calculates, and I move faster than your strike, all your brain interprets is that my palm didn¡¯t move.¡±


    ¡°That way it just feels as if we punched your stomach and our fists were suddenly where your palm was,¡± Melmarc mused. ¡°But how?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s extremely easy for me to do it to you kids because I know you two very well.¡±


    ¡°But you got thrown off when Mel threw himself at you because it isn¡¯t something he would normally do,¡± Ark said.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°But you handled it well, too.¡±


    ¡°Because I have experience. And people doing insane things isn¡¯t really new to me.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Got it.¡± Ark got up from the ground and dusted of his pants, not that there was any dust on them. ¡°How do we learn this voodoo of yours.¡±


    ¡°Seikuken,¡± Melmarc corrected instinctively.


    ¡°Well, you learn it with each other,¡± Dorthna said, stepping back. ¡°The skill requires a certain level of understanding of your opponent, and I don¡¯t think there is anyone the both of you understand better than each other.¡±


    ¡°And what comes after understanding your opponent?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Understanding fights,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°Understanding how to fight, how to find patterns, how fighting techniques work. There are generally two steps to it. Understanding your opponent, then understanding yourself.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a buck load of guru jargons,¡± Ark muttered.


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°That¡¯s because it is. Now, pay attention. You two are going to spar but at a very slow pace. Mel will be the attacker and you¡¯ll be the defender, Ark. Now go.¡±


    Melmarc sucked in a deep breath and let it out.


    ¡°Slow,¡± he said, talking to himself.


    ¡°Slow,¡± Ark agreed.


    Melmarc nodded. He took a step towards his brother, his mind twitched.


    Fly!


    Melmarc flung himself bodily at his brother.

 ONE HUNDRED AND THREE: Of Salem

    Desolation is a strange concept by the very standard of its existence. Some people attributed it to the simple concept of violence, wanton destruction with no sense. Chaos that was always unbecoming.


    Elijah had never understood why people were always of the opinion. Desolation, after all, was more than that. It was a grander thing than people in their simple opinions could understand. Desolation was often the thing found at the end of all of humanity.


    It wasn¡¯t just wanton destruction. It wasn¡¯t just chaos. It was more. It was the sweet calm of the end.


    So why am I being treated like a drop of water in a massive sea?


    Elijah was currently seated on a soft cushioned chair. A gamer¡¯s chair to be precise. It had all the natural curves and head rest that gave a very odd sense of comfort. He could wiggle one way or the other and still be comfortable.


    When he¡¯d arrived, someone had asked him if there was anything he would like. He¡¯d asked for a gamer¡¯s chair. And here it was.


    Elijah was one of eight people in the room.


    They sat around a round and large desk. It was made of glass. Not the simple kind used in making the glass tables he was accustomed to out there in the world. No. This one was oddly thin but so very powerful.


    Earlier in the day, he¡¯d walked into the room and had tried his strength on it. It was the new found strength he¡¯d gotten after his elevation to Oath hood. At least he liked to think of it as an elevation.


    Regardless, the point was that the table had not cracked. It had not even buckled under the weight of his exerted force. Suffice it to say, Elijah had been impressed. Even now, as he sat, listening to those older than him at the table, he tapped quietly against the glass. A single index finger tapped against a single spot. So far, he had counted sixteen taps.


    Elijah Olsen was bored, and slightly peeved.


    But he¡¯d spoken to the Oath of Inevitability not long after he¡¯d become an Oath himself.  The man had been a voice of reason, educating him slightly and slowly.


    ¡°Your Oath will make you feel more important than you are,¡± he had said. ¡°It is normal. You are not.¡±


    Elijah hadn¡¯t felt unimportant until a few days ago when he¡¯d seen the notification on his interface telling him that somebody somewhere had claimed the world for their own when he''d still been considering the notification that asked if he wanted to become an Oath.


    Now, he felt even less important with the people in front of him talking as if he wasn¡¯t even present.


    The strength of the table against its density was not the only thing that stood out about it. Unlike most tables, it did not have legs. Simply a glass of circle hovering over the ground. It was probably ten feet in diameter, maybe fifteen. And at its center there was a large space, as if designed to place a single person to stand judgement.


    Or to lord over all of them.


    At the center of that space was the old man who had come in unknown to almost everyone in the room. He stood there, hands casually settled on his staff. Older men with unhealthy levels of power always had some form of casual grace to them. garbed in a simple robe of green and black, he could¡¯ve been mistaken for someone playing pretend as a member of the murim from the stories Elijah liked to read.


    This man¡¯s visage was audacious. He looked at all the Oaths present like a grandfather looking at his children and judging if they had grown well or not.


    As for the rest of the office, Elijah could only describe it as empty. Wholly so. As spacious and wide as it was, the Oaths within it were the only people in the room. It gave it an odd visage, like the one you got when you saw a meeting at the Pentagon Underground facility in movies that liked to portray a country as more technologically advanced than it was.


    When the meeting began, the Oaths had all walked in through the same door, one at a time, and had taken their seats. There had been an order to how it had gone that had told Elijah that this gathering had happened often.


    With fifteen chairs to their eight persons, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like there were people who were supposed to be present that were not present.


    ¡°Can we hurry this along,¡± the old man said with a sigh, looking at those seated at the table. ¡°Ask me the questions so that I, too, can take a seat. I am old and my bones are weary.¡±


    None of the Oaths spoke. As for Inevitability, he sat back, watching the man like a prodigy in mathematics would watch an equation that left them discombobulated.


    His elbow was propped up on the armrest of his simple office styled swivel chair and his cheek rested on the back of his hand. There was no one present that did not know that the man was thinking. The problem was that he had been thinking for over thirty minutes, and the others had been more than happy to let him think.


    The old man took another moment to look at everybody before letting out another sigh.


    ¡°If you are in no hurry to start, how about I start?¡± he asked.


    No one responded, each Oath trying to make sense of him in their own way except one. At least one Oath and one woman. Elijah could tell that the woman that sat next to the Oath of Madness was not an Oath. She did not give off the sensation he got from other Oaths.


    The problem, however, was that she gave off a sensation. He just couldn¡¯t put his finger on it.


    The man settled his attention on the Oath of Inevitability. ¡°Inevitability?¡±


    Inevitability shrugged.


    He was a dark-skinned man with short hair. He sported a simple beard and spoke with an African accent and oddly grey eyes. There was a curiosity to if his eyes had grown grey from his Oath or if they just were.


    Elijah didn¡¯t know much about African countries and how they all spoke. If he was to be asked, however, it sounded like a variation of the different accents he¡¯d heard since stepping into the country.


    Say what people may about the country of Nigeria, the one thing Elijah could appreciate was how diverse it was. You could hear the touch of similarity in all of them, but there was also that blatant diversity. It seemed to declare that they were all similar, but they were not the same. They were like people who had grown up together but were not related by blood.


    ¡°Since your leader has given me leave to speak¡­¡±


    ¡°Not our leader,¡± a man to the side said. He looked Scottish, freckled and red haired. Stark green eyes looked at the old man. ¡°We allow him do certain things because he has proven more malleable than the rest of us.¡±


    If Elijah was not mistaken, the man had introduced himself as the Oath of Pain. Unsurprisingly, he looked like he was in constant pain. He also looked like someone who had been in enough pain for long enough that it had become a part of his life. It had left him with a hard face.


    ¡°And you allow him these privileges,¡± the old man said with a soft smile. ¡°You have ultimately given him the privilege of a leader, Callum.¡±


    A frown so deep marred the Oath of Pain¡¯s face that it was a surprise how it hadn¡¯t morphed into something terrifying.


    ¡°Who gave you my name?¡± he demanded with a spark of anger. Strangely enough, besides the frown on his face, the only other sign of his anger was in his balled up fist. ¡°Speak now or your Life will not spare you.¡±


    He said the word ¡®Life¡¯ as if he addressed the old man¡¯s Oath and not his actual life.


    The old man¡¯s smile did not slip from his lips. ¡°I¡¯ve missed this,¡± he said with a chuckle. ¡°Dealing with Oaths who continue to have problems with their Oaths. A word of advice, Pain. You are pain, not the embodiment of it.¡±


    And just like that, he turned away from the Oath as if the man was dismissed. For all his arrogance that seemed designed to make him seem more than the rest of them, the old man still wore the arrogance of an Oath like a mantle.


    Pain¡¯s anger seemed to grow at being dismissed until the woman beside him placed a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°Leave him be, Pain,¡± she said, voice soft and gentle, almost sing song. It was easy to imagine her hitting the highest notes. ¡°He will eventually come to understand.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    Elijah watched the old man¡¯s attention twitch slightly at the woman¡¯s words. The woman was the Oath of Grace.


    ¡°I understand that my presence is a bit¡­ worrying,¡± he continued. ¡°But I assure you that it is necessary. If the [August Intruder] has arrived, it is more necessary than you know.¡±


    That got the attention of all the Oaths present.


    The woman who was not an Oath, leaned forward. She was a tall woman by Elijah¡¯s standard, taller than all the women he had ever met. There was an Amazonian look to her. Toned muscles that were not bulky. She exuded power in a strange way. More confusing, however, was her soft face. Motherly, was the word Elijah would¡¯ve used to describe it. Green eyes focused on the old man.


    ¡°What do you know about the [August Intruder], Life?¡± she asked with a specificity to her voice.


    The old man¡¯s attention swiveled to her. He turned with a slight flourish, like an old man showing his children that he was still strong and agile. ¡°Maybe as much as you know about me.¡± He paused, thought about it, then shook his head. ¡°Nope, more than the others know about me.¡± Then a small look of amusement crossed his face, and he took a step in the woman¡¯s direction. ¡°You are an interesting anomaly.¡±


    The woman cocked a brow at him. ¡°Interesting?¡±


    ¡°Very much so,¡± the man nodded. ¡°In all my life and all my archives, I have never heard of someone like you.¡± He leaned forward, studied her as if reading something written in fine print. ¡°I have never heard the likes of what happened to you. Out of simple curiosity, was it a result of your nature as a mother?¡±


    The woman met his gaze undaunted. Of everybody in the room she was the only one who didn¡¯t seem impressed or confused by the man¡¯s presence. It would¡¯ve made her seem like the most impressive person present if the man beside her was not currently playing with two pens on the table. He kept flicking one into the other, making what seemed like a combat sport out of it.


    When the woman did not respond, the old man turned to the man and looked down at the pen.


    ¡°Do you mind if I join you, Madness?¡± he asked, speaking in a soothing voice, as if making a request of a child.


    Madness was a large man with a face that said nothing in the world was interesting. Those were the two features that stood out about him. He was probably too large and too uninterested. If Elijah was a gambling man, he would¡¯ve placed all his money on Madness¡¯ response being ignorance for the man. After all, he ignored everybody, and everybody allowed him ignore them.


    Madness raised his head from his pens and looked at the man. ¡°Speak to the woman that agreed to marry me.¡±


    The lady beside him blushed and the old man chuckled.


    ¡°Madness,¡± he said. ¡°The same in every recreation.¡± He returned his attention to the woman. ¡°And so, I return to you.¡±


    The woman nodded sagely. ¡°The next time you try talking to my husband without reason, I¡¯ll beat you to an inch of your life.¡±


    The old man cocked his head to the side, amused. ¡°Not to death?¡±


    ¡°You and I both know you don¡¯t work that way.¡± She gave him a feral grin, a worrying green. ¡°So, I¡¯ll beat you to an inch of your life and see if we can make two people share the Oath of Pain.¡±


    There was a moment of silence after her words. Her husband cared nothing for it, at least he didn¡¯t look like he did. His pens were his only interest.


    Eventually, the old man said. ¡°You know far too much for someone of this time period. And you shouldn¡¯t. That interests me.¡±


    ¡°And for a man so old, you talk too much,¡± the woman returned. ¡°Is it an Oath thing?¡±


    The old man chuckled, stepping away from her and back to the center of the room. ¡°When you have lived as old as I have, you learn that it is fun to embrace the beauties of life.¡± He held his arms out to his side. ¡°You dispense with pretense and just live.¡±


    Everyone continued to watch the exchange. Inevitability was now beginning to look like a chess prodigy who now understood what was happening with the game in front of him.


    The woman, however, changed her expression. She went from a feral grin to a knowing smile.


    She tapped a finger to her cheek in obvious pretense at thought. ¡°Perhaps it comes with your position.¡±


    The grandfatherly smile on the old man¡¯s face slipped a little. It wasn¡¯t worry that tried to usurp it but surprise.


    ¡°Position?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Does Salem know you are here?¡±


    This time, the man staggered, reeling back as if physically struck. It took him a moment to recover himself, but everyone had seen the reaction. Everyone now knew that the woman knew things about the man. She wasn¡¯t just calling his bluff.


    After regaining his composure, he said, ¡°It is good to know that there exists an Oath with better information gathering skills than the old Oaths. I should keep an eye on you.¡±


    After that, he turned to Inevitability.


    ¡°I am now at your service.¡±


    ¡°What is Salem?¡± Inevitability asked.


    ¡°A friend?¡± the old man said, as if passing off a lie he knew would be difficult to believe.


    The woman raised a brow but said nothing.


    Melchizedek. That was what the man had called himself when he¡¯d arrived. Elijah had known the name was familiar somehow. With the addition of Salem, it was all coming together. His years in Sunday school were finally paying off.


    Actually, Elijah hadn¡¯t learnt much in Sunday school. He was never a serious student. The knowledge he had now was not from Sunday school but from his time in the seminary.


    ¡°The king of peace,¡± he said in a low voice, the pictures coming together.


    The old man turned to him with a flourish. ¡°They don¡¯t teach that anymore. Not really.¡±


    ¡°You are a priest,¡± Elijah said.


    ¡°That was my class,¡± the man said, as if correcting a child that had slightly missed their mark when answering a question. ¡°Happily, accepted, might I add.¡±


    ¡°And what does the arrival of the [August Intruder] have to do with a priest?¡± the woman, Grace, asked. Her voice was gentle, tone curious.


    ¡°Let¡¯s focus on something else, for now,¡± the man said. ¡°Something more interesting.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    It was a single word that did not come from Grace, delivered precisely. Somehow, it was as if the word being uttered had been timed precisely, inevitable. It was no surprise to know that it had come from Inevitability.


    ¡°The leader speaks,¡± the old man said, smiling. ¡°But we must focus on¡ª¡±


    ¡°Why has a priest come at the arrival of the [August Intruder]?¡± Inevitability echoed Grace¡¯s question.


    ¡°We are focusing on the wrong thing,¡± the Oath of Life said. ¡°The question is why has the Oath of Life arrived?¡±


    ¡°An age-old priest from an age-old myth coming at the arrival of a seemingly prophesied special being seems to make more sense,¡± the Oath of Shield said. ¡°I find myself more curious of that. Priests and prophecies have always tended to come hand in hand.¡±


    Elijah hadn¡¯t known her for long but he already knew that she had a habit of following in Inevitability¡¯s footsteps. He could also tell that she was very wary of the man who was surprisingly still playing with pens.


    ¡°Melchizedek,¡± Fear said, drawing everyone¡¯s attention to her. ¡°A priest of El Elyon who met Abraham when Abraham was coming back from defeating the kings.¡± She was reading from her smartphone. ¡°He blessed Abraham and Abraham gave him a tenth of everything he owned.¡±


    ¡°Had,¡± the old man said, correcting her. "Everything he had."


    ¡°So you met Abraham,¡± Inevitability said. ¡°You are that old. A walking fossil, so to speak.¡±


    The old man shrugged. ¡°Abraham was an interesting enough man.¡±


    ¡°And you blessed him.¡±


    ¡°I am a priest, after all.¡±


    The man playing with his pen, the Oath of Madness, paused suddenly. He looked up at the old man for a moment, then went back to playing with his pen. His wife placed a gentle hand on his massive shoulder and rubbed it as if soothing a child.


    Elijah came to a single conclusion. This was a group of weird people.


    ¡°Can you bless us, too?¡± Fear asked. For someone whose Oath was fear, she looked and sounded anything but scared.


    ¡°Everyone is deserving of a blessing or two in their own way, child,¡± the old man answered. ¡°But that does not mean that we will all be blessed.¡±


    ¡°So you won¡¯t bless us?¡± she asked.


    The man shook his head. ¡°Not today.¡±


    ¡°Who is the [August Intruder]?¡± Inevitability asked, taking over the conversation.


    ¡°The person to save us all,¡± the old man answered in an almost prophetic tone.


    Shield was quick to object. ¡°I don¡¯t believe in the concept of a messiah.¡±


    ¡°That is because the word has taken up something of a spiritual connotation, but I assure you that it wasn¡¯t always this way. A man who gives you money when you need it the most is a small messiah.¡±


    ¡°A man who shoots you in the leg to stop a mob from taking your life is a messiah,¡± Elijah offered.


    ¡°In his own way, yes,¡± the old man confirmed.


    ¡°We all know that the [August Intruder] brings the apocalypse. Why?¡± Inevitability asked.


    Elijah paused. The apocalypse? What apocalypse? He knew of the [August Intruder] but only from what his interface had told him, which was nothing but the title.


    ¡°That is a question that has confounded so many Oaths for so many years,¡± the old man said. ¡°We all wish we knew why.¡±


    The wife to the Oath of Madness sighed. ¡°It happens because their very presence brings a certain level of attention to the world.¡±


    Pain looked at her as if he was looking at a childhood nemesis. ¡°How do you know this?¡± His voice came out a little strained, like a man in pain.


    The woman thumbed over to Madness. ¡°You act like you don¡¯t know my husband has met the [August Intruder].¡±


    Elijah still didn¡¯t understand why the other Oaths had allowed the Oath of Madness¡¯ wife to be present. Isn¡¯t this a meeting for only Oaths?


    And more importantly, why were they happy to let her speak only on his behalf. It was almost as if the Oath of Madness wasn¡¯t even around.


    ¡°Since you have met this [August Intruder],¡± Pain bit out, clipping the words as if angry. ¡°Where is the person?¡±


    ¡°Living a happy life,¡± she answered with a smug look.


    Pain moved, rising halfway up from his seat before being stopped by Grace¡¯s hand. But while Grace¡¯s hand had stopped him, it was the second time Elijah was seeing Madness stop his game of pens without being addressed. The Oath had his eyes firmly fixed on the Oath of Pain.


    It was a sign that even in his perfect distraction he was paying attention.


    You are an Oath, too, Elijah told himself suddenly. He wasn¡¯t just an Oath, he was a person of worth. A Gifted. He had a place here. He belonged here.


    So if an old man came from nowhere to cause trouble, he owed it to everyone to help figure out his purpose here.


    What else did he know about the priest Melchizedek? If there was a time when his years in the seminary could help him it was now.


    Think, Elijah. Think.


    As mystical and magical as the world was, immortality was still an unaccepted concept. That the other Oaths were simply accepting the man¡¯s presence as long lived because of what his Oath was didn¡¯t mean the man was truly long lived. For all they knew, the man could be lying about his age.


    He was probably just playing into his mystery. People lied. It was nothing new. Besides, the story of Melchizedek was already questionable enough. A man without genealogy? No father or mother? There were too many questions there.


    Then there was Madness¡¯ wife. Her total disregard for the man. If he was really as old as he claimed to be, then she would not know enough about him to startle him the way she had been startling him.


    Pain had returned to his seat and Madness to his game of pens. The old man who claimed to be Melchizedek watched them with a look of nostalgia. Inevitability still looked calculating while Fear scrolled through her phone looking for what no one knew.


    A slight chuckle left the old man¡¯s lips as Elijah continued thinking about what he could do to help, to stand out.


    Shield addressed the old man. ¡°What¡¯s funny?¡± she asked.


    The man shook his head, still chuckling. ¡°It¡¯s nothing important. It¡¯s just¡­ when I met Abram, he was a certain type of way. Personally, I think he would¡¯ve liked you.¡±


    For the fourth time, without being addressed, Madness stopped playing with his pens. Once again, he stopped and looked up at the old man.


    As if suddenly remembering something, the old man turned and looked at him.


    Something had just happened.


    Whatever it was, Elijah found himself unable to understand it.

 ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR: The Strongest Oath

    This conversation was going nowhere. Annoyingly enough, Chetam could not say that he was surprised. These meetings happened very rarely. When they happened, this was always the case. Half the time was spent rambling on. One trail of thought was never followed. Lines of conversations were abandoned halfway before being skipped to another.


    Sometimes lines of conversations were forgotten entirely.


    The arrival of the Oath of Life was definitely an unplanned disturbance to the meeting, throwing a wrench into everything. Meetings as they were always followed a pattern. The Oaths disagreed on insignificant things, like cats trying to claim hierarchy in a territory. Then they addressed the subject that brought them, disagreeing with the very necessity of the problem. Only then did they finally come to a decision that solved only a part of the problem.


    If only the issue between Ruth and Madness could just as easily be forgotten, he would be one of the happiest men alive. One look at Aurora, the former Oath of War, told him that he would not be so lucky.


    If he was capable of having a headache, he would have one. Then again, he actually was capable of having a headache. His mind pulled him back to the last time he¡¯d had a headache and his eyes moved from the old man to Madness.


    A small nostalgic smile touched his lips as he remembered the one time he¡¯d gotten into an argument with War and had been wrong. He had done something he should not have done, something he was man enough to know had not been warranted. His reward? Two slaps from Madness.


    He felt a shadow of the headache, a phantom that came with the memory. The Oaths here had no idea how lucky they were that Madness did not have his attention on any of them. Ruth had no idea just how unlucky she was that he did.


    As for the Oath of Life, Chetam would be lying if he did not find the man interesting. From what he knew of the stories of Melchizedek, the man was a questionable enigma. He had no genealogy which implied no father or mother. But did he really have no father and mother or were they merely unknown?


    Then, the more interesting part about him. He was a priest and a king. It had been a long time since state and religion had been separated from each other.


    The king of peace, he thought as the old man chattered away like a happy grandfather. Chetam could admit that he hated how the man spoke to them like children who knew nothing. But what really annoyed him was the fact that they were, in fact, children who knew nothing.


    All except Madness and his wife. Those two knew something. A lot, in fact, if he was going by the look Aurora kept giving the old man and the way the man responded to it.


    They were catholic so he didn¡¯t think it should be that surprising. But that was the problem. What they seemed to know went beyond doctrine. They knew the man¡¯s secret. Chetam was sure of it.


    And try as he did, he could only see one plausible reason they could have so much knowledge.


    The [August Intruder].


    But if that was true, then it would mean that the [August Intruder] knew a lot. A great lot. And if that was also true then the question became how he knew so much. Chetam had spies in every corner of the world. Even the famous S-rank [Seer] in Japan, Nezu, knew nothing about the spies Chetam had in his home.


    He had eyes in the offices of all the presidents. If the greatest SS-rank with the class [Unbound] thought to make a move, Chetam would know. But this old man was an anomaly. A being that should not exist.


    Yet Chetam knew nothing about him. Even his Oath skills that somehow helped with the situations hadn¡¯t shown him the man¡¯s arrival.


    Chetam¡¯s eyes moved over the Aurora once more. But they know.


    It bothered him that another Oath knew something that he did not. The last time an Oath existed who knew what Chetam did not, he had been the Oath of Secrets. It made it understandable. Acceptable.


    Chetam¡¯s hand balled into an uncomfortable fist. He slid the fist under his side of the table, slipped it between his legs and masked it there. The temperament that came with his Oath was trying to supersede his mind.


    There was nothing inevitable that he should not know, and yet, here was an old man that he did not know. It irked him. It was irksome.


    A small scuffle drew Chetam from his mind. It was a welcome distraction. When he gave it his attention, he found Pain halfway out of his seat while Grace tried to hold him back. Aurora had a cocky grin on her face. Even without her Oath, she refused to pale under the weight of the others.


    People would claim her husband was the reason but Chetam knew that he was not. He had done his research and knew for a fact that the [Dreadnought] class was the strongest tank and strength class the world had ever seen. And Aurora Lockwood was the strongest [Dreadnought] alive.


    Unless the old man has one that he¡¯s hiding.


    A slight chuckle left the old man¡¯s lips and Chetam shifted his attention to him. On one of the chairs, the Oath of Desolation had a thoughtful expression on his face. Not yet thirty years of age, he was not only the newest Oath present, he was also the youngest.


    His thinking face was fun to look at. Chetam wondered if the man knew that it was very evident that he was trying to be useful.


    ¡°What¡¯s funny?¡± Shield asked, addressing the old man, her voice cutting through every other sound in the room.


    The man shook his head, still chuckling. ¡°It¡¯s nothing important,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ when I met Abram, he was a certain type of way. Personally, I think he would¡¯ve liked you.¡±


    Abram. Chetam¡¯s mind catalogued the use of the name. Previously the man had been more than happy to work with Abraham¡¯s more popular name. Now he called him by the name he¡¯d answered before the change.


    He didn¡¯t know if it was of any significance.


    What was significant, however, was that for the fourth time, without being addressed, Madness stopped playing with his pens. Once again, he stopped and looked up at the old man.


    As if suddenly remembering something, the old man turned and looked at him.


    An involuntary smile touched Chetam¡¯s lips when it happened. The Oaths had their very own lie detector, and while it was difficult to operate, it was very functional. What had just happened told him two things.


    The first was that the old man had slipped up, said something incorrect. The second was that he knew how the Oath of Madness worked. It was clear in the look he gave Madness.


    Slowly, as if unsure of if he was uninterested, Madness got up and left his seat. A heavy silence fell over the room when he did.


    Chetam could feel a few of the Oaths tense up. The newer Oaths looked more confused than anything, as if it was some kind of taboo to get up during the meeting and Madness had committed it so casually.


    Eyes trailed after the man as he moved. Beside Chetam, he felt Shield tense up. He wanted to calm her down, soothe her, but didn¡¯t. Favoritism would not look good on him. Pain looked ready to fight at a moment¡¯s notice.


    As everyone watched, Aurora with a fond smile as if watching her man lift the world with one arm¡ªshe watched him do anything as if it was the greatest most impossible thing in the world, Madness walked over to a locked drawer and pulled it open. It gave way without argument.


    He stopped suddenly, closed it and opened what seemed to be a random drawer. Then he dipped his hand inside it and pulled out a handful of pens.


    The tension fled the room like a cheetah on a chase. The relief was so deep that Chetam heard a few people release their breaths. Still, everyone was silent as Madness returned to his chair. Only when he sat back down, placed all eight pens on the table and resumed playing with them did everyone ignore him once again.


    It was the way with Madness. When he got up, it could¡¯ve easily been to start a fight or leave the meeting. When he took the pens, it let everyone know that there was most likely not going to be a fight. Still, it was not beyond the Oath to suddenly stab someone with it. Even Aurora, the undisputed love of his life, could not predict the things he did.


    Once upon a time, Chetam had asked her how their relationship worked, and her answer had been simple and worrying.


    ¡°He¡¯ll do what he¡¯ll do,¡± she¡¯d said. ¡°And I¡¯ll do what I can do about it.¡±


    He would¡¯ve called it toxic if he didn¡¯t know how much in love with each other they were.


    While he was playing with his pens, Aurora leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Pain frowned, whether it was from the display of affection or the reaction he¡¯d given from Madness simply standing up, Chetam did not know.


    [Oath skill Outcome of Certainty is in effect]


    ¡­


    [Outcome of Certainty]


    Nothing is ever truly certain in life. The higher the outcome the higher the reaction. The Oath is granted the ability to see an unavoidable outcome. Automatic activation is in effect when certainty is above 95%.


    Well, that¡¯s unfortunate.


    Chetam missed having meetings where a fight didn¡¯t break out. With the sudden tension, the fear of a fight, and the automatic activation, everything was obvious. Before this meeting was over, either this specific one or all the meetings combined, Madness would have a fight with someone.


    Chetam just had to make sure it wasn¡¯t Ruth.


    It also meant that it was time to move the conversation along.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, like a mother gathering the toddlers in the house. ¡°We will speak on the subject of the [August Intruder]. King of Salem, and I really hope you are not a king.¡±


    The old man turned to him. ¡°Yes, Inevitability?¡±


    ¡°Please take a sit.¡±


    Quietly, he walked over to one of the empty seats and climbed over the glass table. The chair was right beside Aurora.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Is this sit taken?¡± he asked with a cheerful smile. There was something regal about his simplicity, like a king who never took his job seriously.


    She looked him in the eye and said, ¡°Take the one beside my husband.¡±


    The man looked at Madness and shivered slightly. ¡°The Oaths of Madness have, over the centuries, proven themselves to be very unpredictable, like children with weapons that the world doesn¡¯t know are smart.¡± He pressed his lips into an awkward smile. ¡°It should not come as a surprise that they are the one Oath I fear.¡±


    Aurora did not flinch. After a moment of staring at each other, the old man sighed.


    ¡°Promise me that he will not bite my head off without cause and I¡¯ll take the seat,¡± he said.


    Aurora shrugged. ¡°You can always sit elsewhere.¡± She gestured at the different empty chairs that had once had occupants many years ago. ¡°There¡¯s more than enough to go around.¡±


    ¡°True. But this one feels like the safest.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± Aurora shook her head. Then she pointed at her own seat. ¡°This one¡¯s the safest.¡± She pointed at the one he wanted to take. ¡°This one is a paradox. It is the second safest and the second most dangerous.¡±


    Chetam had a feeling the both of them were intentionally talking loud enough for everyone to hear. They certainly had the attention of the new Oaths. And the fact that none of the Oaths were objecting was giving levity to the conversation.


    Even now, when she was no longer an Oath, Aurora played subtle mind games, setting up plans and strategies to lay a path to victory for her and hers.


    Deflating in defeat, the old man walked over to Madness¡¯ side and took the seat next to the Oath with a worried expression. He wasn¡¯t scared, at least he didn¡¯t look scared. He was simply worried.


    ¡°Now that that¡¯s out of the way,¡± Chetam announced. ¡°The [August Intruder]. Does anyone have any knowledge to share on the matter before we address the matter of the person themselves?¡±


    The Oath of Desolation, Elijah, raised his hand politely.


    ¡°Yes, Desolation?¡±


    ¡°I received the notification of his dominion before I became an Oath.¡± He dropped his hand. ¡°Does that matter?¡±


    That was interesting.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Chetam answered. ¡°Although it presents more questions than answers. If you received it before becoming an Oath was it because you were about to become an Oath or because you were chosen by the [August Intruder]?¡±


    ¡°He was not chosen,¡± Aurora interjected.


    ¡°And you know this because?¡± Grace asked.


    Aurora gave her a friendly smile. ¡°Because the [August Intruder] doesn¡¯t know all the Oaths or who will become an Oath.¡±


    Grace''s presence was a boon as far as Chetam was concerned. Not only was she an Oath that always sought out favor for everyone, but she was also Aurora¡¯s friend. So, if someone angered Madness, Aurora could calm him, and if someone angered Aurora, Grace could calm her. Hopefully.


    ¡°I see,¡± Chetam mused. ¡°Then I guess it¡¯s an Oath thing. Thank you, Desolation. Any other offers?¡±


    He looked pointedly at the Oath of Life.


    The old man sighed, then stiffened. He gave Madness a slight glance. Certain he had not garnered the man¡¯s attention, he relaxed.


    ¡°My apologies for that,¡± he said to everyone. ¡°I was once struck by an Oath of Madness because I was breathing too loudly. I possess no idea how that even made sense. Suffice to say, it was my first encounter with near death experience. It left a certain level of trauma with me that had transcended time. Hopefully you¡¯ll understand why I¡¯m jumpy here.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± Chetam dismissed the action as normal. ¡°He¡¯s given me a headache before, but it wasn¡¯t much of a big deal.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a headache again,¡± Madness muttered under his breath.


    The words were enough to make Chetam freeze. Was he the one that was going to end up fighting Madness before the meeting was over?


    ¡°Just make sure to use the training room this time,¡± Chetam replied, feigning joviality. ¡°The things in this place are quite expensive.¡±


    Life waited patiently, speaking only when he was sure that Madness was not offering any response.


    ¡°From what I know of the [August Intruder],¡± he said. ¡°His presence heralds something of an apocalypse.¡±


    ¡°We are already aware of that, old man,¡± Pain said.


    ¡°But what if I told you what the apocalypse comes with,¡± Life said, as if talking to a child that was interrupting his story. ¡°Will you be quiet and appreciative then?¡±


    Pain looked as if he wanted to talk back but held his tongue.


    ¡°Good.¡± Life placed his staff on the table. ¡°The apocalypse will come with a more than significant rise in Gifted. And I am talking about eighty percent of the human race. Portals will not only keep monsters within them, but they will also let them out.¡±


    ¡°So what?¡± One of the new Oaths, Language, asked. She was an average sized girl who kept her head clean shaved like a monk. ¡°Is that what is happening right now? There are no portals so that we can prepare for the big portals?¡±


    Life waved her words aside. ¡°Oh, no, dear. This is different. Since the [August Intruder] has declared the world as his, it has fallen under his protection. Right now, his presence is making the world stronger. The [August Intruder] is like a radioactive thing. Their very presence will affect every one around them.¡±


    ¡°Affect, how?¡± Language asked.


    ¡°We are about to see a simple, almost significant rise in Gifted that turn up. The country that gets the greater number tells you where the person is.¡±


    ¡°The United States will get the boost,¡± Pain said with an uncomfortable frown. ¡°As if they are not powerful enough.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Life perked up. ¡°I believe that¡¯s where Madness met them.¡±


    Madness said nothing.


    ¡°It is,¡± Chetam answered. He had questions on the matter, because regardless of Life¡¯s pool of knowledge from being as old as he was, he hadn¡¯t met the [August Intruder]. ¡°Aurora.¡±


    ¡°Chetam,¡± she replied.


    Beside him Shield bristled slightly. It was respectful among Oaths to refer to themselves by their Oaths not their names. But Aurora was not an Oath.


    ¡°Is the [August Intruder] a threat?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Why her and not the Oath that found them?¡± Language asked, curious.


    Pain scoffed. ¡°Good luck getting anything out of Madness.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± She looked at everyone present. ¡°He really doesn¡¯t talk to anyone?¡±


    ¡°Oh, he definitely talks,¡± Pain said. ¡°Just when he feels like it.¡±


    ¡°Then how are we so sure the information she¡¯s giving is correct?¡± Language asked before turning to Aurora and adding: ¡°No offense.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re sure because if Madness has met the [August Intruder]," Pain said, "then she¡¯s definitely met the [August Intruder].¡±


    Language looked as if the information didn¡¯t make sense. But it didn¡¯t have to, it just had to be correct.


    ¡°So,¡± Chetam said, pushing the conversation along. ¡°Is the person a threat?¡±


    ¡°To whom?¡± Aurora leaned forward, placed her hands on the table. ¡°You? Me? Ruth? Madness? Themselves?¡±


    ¡°The world,¡± Chetam clarified. ¡°Are they a threat to the world?¡±


    ¡°Are we about to have a tyrant on our hands?¡± Shield clarified.


    Chetam watched Aurora actually give it some thought. It was as if the question seemed to really bother her.


    ¡°Honestly, from what I can tell, the [August Intruder] is a nice guy,¡± she said, eventually. ¡°Never even thought they would have such an important title.¡±


    So it¡¯s a man.


    From what Chetam knew about Aurora, she was quite specific. A man was a guy, and a boy was a kid. A woman was a lady or a woman, and a girl was a kid.


    ¡°So he¡¯s new to the role,¡± Grace mused. ¡°Perhaps we can provide him with guidance.¡±


    Chetam was happy to see that he was not the only one who had picked up on the [August Intruder] being male.


    Aurora chuckled at her friend¡¯s words. ¡°You,¡± she pointed at each person at the table except Madness and Life, ¡°want to give him guidance? And how exactly do you intend to pull that off? Would you have him intern with each Oath over time? Maybe three months to an Oath?¡±


    There was a touch of venom in her voice and Chetam knew the reason. She was angry about what had happened to her son. A three-month mentorship had led to him being stuck in a portal. And while Shield had been sent to ensure that Madness moved on to the next portal and not save his son, she had not been diplomatic about it. She had been very¡­ Oath-ish.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like that,¡± Grace said in an appeasing voice. ¡°We can¡ª¡±


    Life got up from his seat, taking his staff with him. The action interrupted Grace and everyone watched as he put three seats between him and Madness.


    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad idea, actually.¡± He counted the three seats with his eyes and added a fourth with a single step. ¡°From what I know, time spent with the Oaths will be good for him. The Oaths, too. It will grow him and grow them. You see, the [August Intruder] has this thing called¡­¡±


    His words died in his throat as Madness and Aurora turned the entire weight of their attention on him. Madness was calm, collected, expressionless. But Chetam knew better. The Oath could snap a person¡¯s neck without a hint of an emotion.


    Aurora looked like she was about to take a person¡¯s life.


    ¡°Careful, your highness,¡± Aurora bit out. ¡°You are about to put a very important person in danger.¡±


    ¡°More like he¡¯s about to ruin your plans to extort us,¡± Pain said, clearly raring for a fight.


    The bad blood between him and Aurora was still as active as the tension in the room.


    The old man sighed.


    ¡°My apologies, everyone,¡± he said sincerely. ¡°But unfortunately, I¡¯m more wary of these two than I am of all of you.¡±


    ¡°You underestimate the power the Oaths have, old man,¡± Pain snarled.


    I¡¯m convinced he¡¯s the one going to fight Madness, Chetam concluded, looking at Pain. The Oath just kept pushing for some reason.


    The Oath of Life chuckled in response to Pain¡¯s words. ¡°Oh, you beautiful and pained child. You are the one underestimating the Oath of Madness. I will give you a piece of advice. Mind you, it is not designed to instill fear in you, only caution. If you will listen.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t¡ª¡± Pain began, only for Chetam to cut him off.


    ¡°If it is about Madness, we are listening.¡±


    The truth was that Madness was the least understood Oath in the room, just the way a mad person was the least understood person in the world.


    ¡°I have seen at least four generations of Oaths since I¡¯ve been alive,¡± Life began. ¡°And there was a generation I saw, the one before the one before you, that did not end kindly. They led me to speculate on a certain possibility.¡± He paused for dramatic effect, or maybe it was to give someone to chance to interject. When no one did, he continued. ¡°I believe the reason the Oaths of Madness I have seen never seem to have a precise will of their own is because so much power should not be given to a person with intent.¡±


    ¡°Is that it?¡± Pain asked.


    ¡°No.¡± The old man focused his entire attention on Pain. ¡°The Pains I have known over my years have always been good at exhibiting restraint. You, on the other hand, are a piece of shit. I wonder why.¡± He returned his attention to the group. ¡°That generation of Oaths lost their lives in a battle that lasted three days. They took mountains with them and leveled cities. The two Oaths that did not die at the end of the fight, died a month or two later of their injuries. Things would¡¯ve been different if the Madness of their time had been on their side.¡±


    Pain slammed his hand violently on the table. ¡°Petty, old Life. You instill fear but forget what Oaths are. If you have come here to convince us that we will need Madness for what is to come, then you can scurry on back to where you came from.¡±


    ¡°Pain!¡± Chetam snapped at him. ¡°Your beef with Aurora is forgivable. What you will not do, however, is beef with every single Oath present.¡±


    Pain¡¯s jaw tightened but he said nothing more.


    ¡°I apologize,¡± Chetam said to the old man. ¡°He gets¡­ antsy around Madness¡¯ wife. Why was Madness not on their side. What happened? Did he side with the enemy?¡±


    ¡°She,¡± Life corrected. ¡°Was the enemy. You people do not understand the volatile keg that Madness is. The Oath is necessary but a double-edged sword. That yours has someone that they answer to is a great stroke of luck you do not appreciate. Also,¡± he looked at Pain. ¡°Only a fool of an Oath would question that Madness is the strongest amongst you.¡± He moved so that there were now five seats between him and Madness. ¡°Madness is your necessity.¡±


    Chetam had been hoping that the man¡¯s words would not be the case. As for Madness, he didn¡¯t look the slightest bit interested in the story. The ten pens being pushed around in front of him looked more interesting.


    However, tensions were high now. Pain was liable to get into a fight with someone. Life had made everyone see Madness as a threat. Not that they didn¡¯t already see him as a threat. With the current situation, Shield¡¯s case would not go down well.


    There was only one thing that could be done.


    Chetam stood up, the action slow and purposeful. ¡°In the end, their Madness died,¡± he said. ¡°She was defeated. But that will not happen to us. As you¡¯ve pointed out, there is someone that has a hold over him and we keep the possibility of pissing him off to the lowest.¡±


    Life looked amused, his eyes moving slowly to Shield.


    ¡°There are often mistakes,¡± Chetam pointed out. ¡°But everyone makes mistakes.¡± Then he addressed the others. ¡°Madness is not the enemy. And before you start to ask yourselves if the same thing might happen to us and our Madness will turn on us, I will remind you. Ours has reasons not to turn on us, and we will give him none. Also, the case he gave us was one in four, so we are in the clear. The odds are in our favor.¡±


    ¡°One in six, actually,¡± Life interjected. ¡°I¡¯ve seen at least six generations of Oaths.¡±


    ¡°You just said four.¡±


    ¡°No less than six is still the same as no less than four.¡±


    Chetam gave him an annoyed look.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Life said as if he¡¯d expected it. ¡°I am intentionally vague for my own reasons.¡±


    Chetam rubbed his forehead with thumb and forefinger. ¡°Whatever, Life. As for this meeting, I believe we should end it here before people start a fight they cannot stop. We can all go to our rooms. The next meeting will be held three days from now. A show of hands if anyone objects.¡±


    No hands went up.


    ¡°Good.¡± Chetam pushed his chair back and prepared to leave. ¡°I will see you all in three days.¡±


    Again, like most meetings tended to go, they had made next to zero progress. Dealing with the Oaths was like dealing with overactive children. Dealing with Life was like dealing with an estranged parent who thought they knew better.


    Chetam needed a drink.


    But before he could leave, Desolation raised his hand. Worry caressed Chetam¡¯s chest.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a question for Life,¡± Desolation said.


    The old man was more than happy to indulge him. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°Which Oaths survived the fight in that generation.¡±


    ¡°War and Desolation,¡± Life answered without missing a beat.


    ¡°And you said that Madness died at the end of the fight, which means she was killed. How?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that one was simple. Maybe too simple.¡± The old man turned and started leaving. ¡°See you all in three days.¡±


    Everyone remained where they were, stunned by the abruptness of his answer that was not an answer. Life was already at the door when someone spoke again. Surprisingly, it was the last person anyone had expected to speak.


    ¡°How did she die?¡± Aurora asked.


    The old man hesitated, then looked back at her. Only her.


    ¡°She killed herself.¡±

 ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE: How Strong?

    Yesterday had been a busy day. Not busy in the way people say busy when they went out or had chores that took up their entire time. Busy in the way you have one specific repetitive thing to do.


    Today Melmarc woke up on the floor again. It was becoming a habit now, a worrisome one at that. He would consciously crawl into bed every night, receive a bump against the leg of his bedframe from Spitfire, then fall asleep. He liked to think of the bump as the demon¡¯s way of saying goodnight.


    Then, somewhere in the middle of the night, his eyes would shoot open in the most violent way a person could open their eyes. He would find his breathing hard. Sweat would soak his brows. His grip would be tight, [Rings of Saturn] half activated in his mind.


    Melmarc would lay there in that state. It would be silent, a quiet night with no snow after a heavy winter storm. His chest would heave, rising and falling like a thing trying not to die. But it would be silent, quiet. He would heave like a boy trying to hide from his enemies¡­ from his monsters.


    From the [Damned].


    Ark was never awake. Wrapped up in his blanket like someone with no worries in the world and no bond to an actual demon, he would be peaceful. Although, Melmarc always wondered if his brother was actually really peaceful. The scar on his side said he had been through his own traumatizing experiences.


    It would take a few minutes, three at the most, for Melmarc¡¯s reactions to calm down. Even then, he would only lose the physically presenting symptoms. Once they were gone, the breathing, the tight grip, the sweat, he would find himself unable to sleep. His mind would be too alert while his body would not.


    The dissonance was always disconcerting, like being ready for a test mentally but being too tired to write the essay the test wanted you to write. As he¡¯d often heard in church, the spirit would be willing, but the flesh would be weak.


    After minutes lying down in a losing battle with his dissonance, he would roll out of bed. There was never any standing up. He was never civil and decent about it. He would simply move. Rolling out of bed, he would hit the ground with a thump and roll some more. At some point¡ªhe never knew when¡ªhis body would grow as alert as his mind. It would be prepared for whatever was to come.


    Then, and only then, would sleep finally take him once more. And it would be peaceful.


    The entire uneasy midnight process could be avoidable if he just lay on the floor when it was time to sleep. But Melmarc never did. Whatever was happening to him, he was losing to it. But he continued to fight.


    Every night he would crawl into bed, knowing that when the night was old enough, he would wake up covered in sweat and ready for a fight, half-expecting to find the sun high in the sky and surrounded by dilapidated walls and vibrant green grass. One action away from summoning [Rings of Saturn], he would stop himself and fight his way to calm.


    If he just lay on the ground from the beginning, he would have a peaceful sleep. But he did not. He would not. Because doing so would be an admittance of his failure. Melmarc was losing, but losing did not mean that he was failing. So, every night he fought his losing battle.


    Every single night.


    And he went to sleep fearing that one day he would wake up with an activated [Ring of Saturn]. Or worse, back in the portal surrounded by the [Damned].


    Breakfast today was a microwaved pizza, leftovers from the night before. When Uncle Dorthna was in charge, they ate like bachelors or boys in a dormitory. Melmarc knew for a fact that Uncle Dorthna could cook a good meal and suspected that he only did this every now and again as some kind of change of pace.


    According to their uncle, it was not because he was lazy. The jury was still out on that one.


    ¡°You slept on the floor again,¡± Ark said in passing as he pulled out a seat at the dining table.


    They were the only two people in the house. While doing the house chores, Melmarc had all but confirmed Uncle Dorthna¡¯s absence. Once upon a time, not seeing their uncle in the house meant he was probably out getting something. Now, it easily meant that he was in the training room preparing something.


    Considering they had spent the entirety of the previous day learning the technique he called ¡®Seikuken¡¯ Melmarc could only imagine what he had planned for them today.


    Biting into a slice of pizza, Melmarc offered his brother a soft grunt.


    ¡°Are you waiting for me to ask what happened?¡± Seated comfortably, Ark reached across and picked a slice of pizza from Melmarc¡¯s plate. He took a bite and grimaced. ¡°You didn¡¯t microwave it long enough.¡±


    Melmarc took another bite of his slice. It was cold at the center but nothing that couldn¡¯t be ignored. You were only aware of it if you were paying attention to it.


    ¡°So, what happened?¡± Ark asked. ¡°Because I¡¯ll be honest, you sleep so peacefully on the ground so I don¡¯t know how worried I should be.¡±


    ¡°When I was inside the portal, I slept on the ground every night.¡± Melmarc intended the words to come out nonchalant, and they did, which worried him. The nonchalance was not fake.


    Ark leaned back against his backrest as if giving the words some thought. After a while, he nodded. ¡°I guess that makes sense.¡±


    Melmarc agreed. Life was all about pretense. If you did something long enough, it would eventually become your new normal.


    ¡°What else happened?¡± Ark asked as if they were having a normal conversation about the weather. ¡°Any other fun thing?¡±


    Melmarc paused mid bite. ¡°I was stuck with a B-rank [Sage].¡±


    Ark¡¯s brows moved up in surprise. ¡°I heard they are a real pain in the ass. Is that true?¡±


    ¡°Heard from who?¡±


    Ark made a vague gesture with the slice of pizza in his hand. ¡°My mentor really hates their guts. Says they like to act like they¡¯re the smartest people in the room. Always looking down on everybody, eyes moving around like they know something you don¡¯t.¡±


    With ten whooping points to intelligence, Melmarc would be pissed if those with the [Sage] class did not know something other people didn¡¯t. Apart from the class, the only other class with a really high stat to intelligence when they gained their class was the [Mage] and they got three to five. And five was a rare occurrence.


    The [Sage] class was supposed to know something you don¡¯t know.


    ¡°So was the [Sage] a dick?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°Language,¡± Melmarc said reflexively. ¡°Mom wouldn¡¯t like that word.¡±


    Ark cocked a surprised brow. ¡°Then thank God she¡¯s not here. My question¡¯s still waiting for an answer, though.¡±


    Was Naymond Hitchcock a dick?


    The answer to that question was on a spectrum. Melmarc didn¡¯t think the man was going out of his way to be a dick. And now that he thought about it, the man probably wasn¡¯t. If anything, he was eccentric, and a little bit reckless. Such behaviors tended to make people look at you a certain kind of way.


    People thought Delano was a dick when he really¡­


    Melmarc pursed his lips, terminating the thought.


    Actually, Delano was a dick. But Delano was a special case so it didn''t count.


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t half bad,¡± he answered Ark in the end. ¡°Just¡­ different.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Ark looked disappointed, as if he had been expecting something more juicy. ¡°Different how?¡±


    That was a question with an answer Melmarc didn¡¯t need to think about.


    ¡°So mine was not a detective or a police officer,¡± he said, the words coming to him easily. ¡°He was something of a criminal consultant.¡±


    ¡°I thought that only happened in the movies,¡± Ark said, surprised.


    ¡°Me, too. Anyway, he has a supervisor. You remember that famous detective, Alfa?¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Ark nodded. ¡°The Blight¡¯s wife.¡±


    ¡°She was his boss. Is his boss.¡± He took a bite of his pizza and chewed a little too quickly. It turned out he was eager to talk about it. ¡°Anyway, on our first day, there was a bunch of us and we were assigned to other detectives.¡±


    ¡°So, you had a partner?¡± Ark paused, eyes growing mischievous. ¡°Is that the girl we talked about on the phone.¡±


    ¡°Kpelumi,¡± Melmarc said, pronouncing the name the way it was supposed to be pronounced.


    ¡°Kpelumi?¡± Ark said the name as if he was tasting how it sounded. ¡°That¡¯s a strange name.¡±


    Melmarc smiled. It was.


    ¡°But it¡¯s not spelt as pronounced,¡± he said. ¡°Just an interesting tidbit.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s it spelt?¡±


    ¡°Without the letter ¡®K,¡¯¡± Melmarc was happy to say.


    ¡°You¡¯re saying it starts with a ¡®P¡¯?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°And that¡¯s only the short form of the name.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the full thing?¡± Ark was interested in this part of the conversation. Melmarc wasn¡¯t surprised. His brother had always liked things that he didn¡¯t consider everyday occurrences.


    ¡°The full thing is Oluwa¡­¡± Melmarc brows furrowed as he realized that he didn¡¯t remember her full name.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask?¡± Ark asked, with a gasp. ¡°What kind of guy doesn¡¯t get the full name of the girl he likes.¡±


    Melmarc bristled. ¡°I never said I like her.¡±


    ¡°But you don¡¯t know her name.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a very long name,¡± Melmarc argued. ¡°And complicated, too.¡±


    Ark shot him a wry grin. ¡°Uhuh.¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve argued the point if he didn¡¯t know that Ark was just teasing him. ¡°Anyway, we were talking about the [Sage].¡±


    Ark chuckled lightly. ¡°Yes, we were. So, what happened?¡±


    ¡°When the team found out my class, they didn¡¯t really want me.¡± Melmarc could remember that moment as clear as day. Yet, it felt like a lifetime ago. ¡°But the [Sage] stepped in and picked me himself.¡±


    Ark smiled. ¡°So, he was a nice guy.¡±


    ¡°He was,¡± Melmarc agreed, thinking about his time in the precinct. ¡°On our first day, he took us to his office and was working on his system while we spoke.¡±


    ¡°About?¡±


    ¡°Our classes, skills. He was learning about us.¡± Melmarc smiled a little. ¡°By the end of the conversation it turned out that it wasn¡¯t his office.¡±


    Ark¡¯s jaw dropped, his almost finished pizza dangling from his hand. ¡°Whose office was it?¡±


    ¡°The Blight¡¯s wife¡¯s.¡±


    Ark guffawed so loud that Melmarc thought his hearing had grown a little too strong.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± his brother said, still laughing. ¡°You broke into your mentor¡¯s office on the first day. And I¡¯m supposed to be the delinquent.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t break into her office. Naymond did.¡± Melmarc was smiling, though. ¡°Naymond''s the [Sage]. Then the next day we met at his office and tidied the place up, arranging scattered papers and everything. We practically cleaned the place up.¡±


    ¡°As punishment for breaking and entering?¡±


    Melamarc shook his head. ¡°Alfa didn¡¯t catch us in her office. We were out by the time she got back.¡±


    Ark¡¯s look turned knowing, anticipating. ¡°What¡¯s the twist?¡±


    Melmarc smiled as he delivered the news. ¡°The office we cleaned up wasn¡¯t his office.¡±


    Ark laughed again, enjoying the constant twists that came with Naymond. ¡°This guy gives the [Sage] class a good name.¡±


    ¡°He was a bit annoying to be honest. We cleaned a handful of offices, and I don¡¯t think we ever entered his office.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re missing the real issue here,¡± Ark said, sounding like an investigator that had just cracked a case.


    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°How sure are you that he even had an office? For all we know, he did not have an office.¡± Ark tapped the side of his head with a finger. ¡°Think, Mel. Think. He was a consultant who just happened to be a felon. Why would they give him an office?¡±


    Ark had a point. For all Naymond¡¯s job was, he didn¡¯t really need an office. What if he really hadn¡¯t had one?


    ¡°Fair,¡± Melmarc conceded. ¡°I guess when you think about it, that makes sense.¡±


    Ark slipped that last bit of his slice of pizza into his mouth. He took his time chewing it, as if savoring the cold hiding at its core. He grimaced when he was done.


    ¡°Cold,¡± he muttered. Then he shook his head and returned his attention to Melmarc. ¡°So how did the portal thing happen, then?¡±


    That was an interesting story. Melmarc was happy to tell it.


    When he did, he started from the beginning. He spoke of the first real task Naymond had taken them for. The chase for David Swan, Confidential Informant and inevitable betrayer. When he got to the part where Naymond had given them a plan that had started off exactly as he¡¯d said it would, Ark laughed.


    ¡°Well, they do say that [Sages] are smart,¡± he pointed out. ¡°So we can¡¯t really be surprised.


    Melmarc recalled what Naymond had told him on the subject. ¡°He actually said that it had nothing to do with his class. Just a thing about being smart and being on the job long enough.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like an arrogant man.¡±


    ¡°He was,¡± Melmarc said, staring of in reminiscence. ¡°In his own way.¡±


    He continued after that. The story of how he¡¯d caught David was interesting to recall. As he told it, Melmarc wondered how bad the effect would be if he ran into the man at his current state.


    I¡¯ll probably do more than just bruise him, he thought.


    As Melmarc told his story, he realized how easily he had forgotten about the house Naymond had offered him. A frown touched his lips when he remembered the woman that had used the skill [Knowledge is Power] on him. She had been rude about the entire process, using a skill to get information that she could¡¯ve gotten if she¡¯d simply bothered to ask him.


    But it felt trivial now, unimportant. Even now, he could not remember her name. Or her face. He just remembered what she¡¯d done. The fact that he wasn¡¯t experiencing the mental compulsion spurring him to pick out a suitable punishment for her action was another thing that told him it was no longer important.


    ¡°So that¡¯s one person that needs to get their head bashed in,¡± Ark muttered suddenly.


    ¡°Sorry, what?¡± Melmarc was confused.


    ¡°The lady,¡± Ark clarified. ¡°Using a skill on someone that¡¯s not an opponent without permission is obviously rude and uncalled for.¡±


    ¡°Bashing their head in is not a suitable response, though.¡±


    Ark cocked a brow as if that was the stupidest response. ¡°Is that Melmarc talking or the [August Intruder] talking?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t think the [August Intruder] finds it important enough to pay it any attention.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Ark nodded slowly. ¡°Well, the [Demon King] finds it important enough. But please, do not mind me,¡± he encouraged Melmarc to continue with a gesture. ¡°Please, go on.¡±


    Melmarc did.


    He spoke of the delivery and the cloned phone, of the package he was handed and how David had asked for his class. Leaving a mystery in every story always caught Ark¡¯s interest so he didn¡¯t say anything about what David had used the information for. Since there was no actual mystery without hints, he made sure to point out that he¡¯d lied about his class.


    Ark smiled like a proud teacher. ¡°My little brother is finally learning not to trust people.¡± He mimed cleaning an imaginary tear from his eye with a finger. ¡°I¡¯m so proud.¡±


    Delano will be prouder, Melmarc thought but said, ¡°I¡¯m your only brother. You don¡¯t have to add the ¡®little¡¯.¡±


    The delivery made Ark smile a little less. A frown creased his lips slightly when Melmarc told him about the three normal boys who¡¯d ambushed him and tried to beat him up in the beginning. The way [World of Insight] worked caught Ark¡¯s attention but his choice of practicing it on the boys did not please him.


    Ark said nothing until Melmarc told him of Naymond¡¯s opinion on the issue.


    ¡°He was right,¡± Ark agreed. ¡°And I know he was because what you did was something I would¡¯ve done.¡±


    What he had done with the Gifted boys who had attacked him with weapons, however, Ark had responded to with an applaud.


    Ark listened like a student at an important lecture as Melmarc continued. As the story moved closer to its climax, Ark grew more engrossed in it. He could tell it was about to end. Anticipation rose in his eyes, gathering like moths to a flame.


    Melmarc changed the cadence of his speech in an attempt to entertain his brother more. When he spoke of the woman who¡¯d attended to him at the house, he tried to describe her, to give her details so that Ark could envision her in his mind. If he did poorly, Ark did not show it.


    Ark sat, eyes focused. When the man he had delivered the package to pointed a gun at him, Ark was practically on the edge of his seat.


    ¡°He shot you.¡± There was a certainty in Ark¡¯s voice. ¡°He shot you and you survived.¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I used [Knowledge is Power]. But it still hurt like hell.¡±


    ¡°I can only imagine,¡± Ark said, thoughtful. ¡°So that¡¯s what happened. You were shot and you fell back into a portal. I was always wondering how you got into the portal. At some point I was thinking you just decided to be very daring, but that didn¡¯t make sense to me.¡±


    ¡°I can be daring,¡± Melmarc shot back.


    Ark dismissed his words with a nonchalant gesture. ¡°Coming from a guy that won¡¯t risk having fun before a test.¡±


    ¡°It was mathematics,¡± Melmarc protested. ¡°You know I¡¯m not good at math.¡±


    ¡°Gotcha.¡± Ark chuckled lightly. ¡°So the portal. Tell me about that.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°That one was a doozy.¡±


    Melmarc watched Ark¡¯s attention change. He was attentive as he¡¯d been the entire story, but there was something else in his eyes. Sharper than usual, they watched and waited. Something about them was predatory. Searching. Hunting.


    ¡°What was the first monster you saw?¡± Ark asked, his voice steady, patient.


    A small line creased Melmarc¡¯s brows in a frown. He wasn¡¯t sure what exactly was going on.


    ¡°All the monsters where the same, except the boss monster,¡± Melmarc said, recalling the [Damned].


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Ark adjusted in his seat. ¡°What did they look like?¡±


    ¡°Tall.¡± Melmarc was slightly confused, so the word had come out as if he was unsure.


    ¡°How tall?¡± Ark asked. ¡°We are tall. How tall were they?¡±


    ¡°Maybe seven, eight feet tall.¡± Melmarc felt himself falling into his mind as the [Damned] came to mind. They were so clear that he could draw every detail, every crack and blemish, every desiccation. ¡°And dead,¡± he continued. ¡°They had hollow eyes that were almost not there. And strong.¡± His voice was growing weak, a bit distant. Unsteady.


    ¡°How strong?¡± he heard Ark ask from a distance. ¡°How powerful?¡±


    ¡°They could break a wall with a punch,¡± Melmarc answered. But he¡¯d never seen them break a wall. The walls had been too strong. ¡°One hit me in the¡­¡±


    Melmarc frowned when the word he wanted to say did not come out.


    ¡°Hit you where, Mel?¡±


    ¡°In the ches¡­¡±


    Melmarc turned his head, looked at the wall. The air was getting thin. His shoulders were getting tense. A sense of alertness slithered into him, wrapping itself around his heart. His breathing came faster.


    Off in the distance he heard a sound like the scraping of a chair¡¯s legs against the ground. Then the sound of Ark¡¯s voice echoed as if from far away.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got you, Mel. I¡¯ve¡­¡±


    The remaining words were lost in the distance and Melmarc realized his vision had grown slightly blurry. He tried to focus on something, anything. Eyes squinted, there was nothing to see.


    Before he knew it the world began to rock. Back and forth, it moved slowly, rhythmically. He was sure he was hearing Ark, but he couldn¡¯t make out the words, only a slight thing in his blurred vision.


    When he saw it¡ªa person, perhaps¡ªhe locked in on it. It drew closer and his vision grew sharper.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright, Mel,¡± someone said in the distance. ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright.¡±


    Melmarc sucked in a breath. It was unsteady, shaky.


    He tried it again.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright, Mel,¡± someone said again, echoing from the distance. ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright. I¡¯ve got you.¡±


    When the blur of a person finally took a sharpened and clear form, they were tall, seven feet, maybe eight.


    Melmarc recognized them. Melmarc could tell who it was. He just had to squint a little.


    When he squinted, the form came into frame¡­


    ¡­ And his world slipped into darkness.

 ONE HUNDRED AND SIX: Dorthna Paled

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to give me something to work with.¡± Detective Alfa¡¯s tired face was serious as she paced in front of the cell¡¯s bars.


    Naymond sat at the end of his cell, back against the cold black wall. Detective Alfa came to a stop, grabbing the cell bars in both hands as she chattered on. ¡°I still don¡¯t get it. Just a few days ago you were making bargains, drawing up contracts in your head and dictating them to me. Precise, without mistake, decisive. But now you clam up. I don¡¯t get it. Is it because I keep returning the contracts?¡± Her grip on the bars tightened until her knuckles were almost white. Her brows furrowed. ¡°What changed, Nay?¡±


    Her expression forced a smile from Naymond.


    Alfa turned to the path she had come from, reminding Naymond that they were not alone today. She had come with Nan, one of the detectives who had been under her before her team had been disbanded.


    ¡°Tony,¡± she said calmly. ¡°Give us some space.¡±


    [World of Insight] showed Naymond the frown on the man¡¯s face before he turned and left, closing the door behind him.


    Tony was the oldest member of the team and on more than one occasion Alfa had deferred to the knowledge born from his experience.


    ¡°Nay.¡± Alfa returned her attention to him. ¡°What¡¯s changed?¡±


    Naymond sighed and looked down at the ground beneath him. He was seated on the floor, his unfinished plate of yam, his breakfast, abandoned at the other corner.


    What had changed? Everything.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lock me out now, Nay,¡± Alfa pressed. ¡°We can get through this. You just have to give me something. The last contract was rejected, but I promise you this, if you take my advice while drawing up a new one¡ªbecause I know you will¡ªit will be considered. I know what the higher-ups are looking for.¡±


    Naymond lifted his head and finally looked at her, really looked at her. Detective Alfa was disheveled. It was the only word he could use to describe her. Her make up wasn¡¯t done, and Naymond couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d seen her on makeup.


    Three days ago, he reminded himself, the memory that came with the [Sage] class doing its job of almost perfect recall.


    Three days ago she¡¯d come in with makeup that had been rushed and given too little time. Naymond wasn¡¯t the only one in a tight position. What Alfa did not understand, however, was that up until a few days ago, they had both been fighting a losing battle. The only difference between the both of them was that Naymond had known it. So he¡¯d been fighting knowing that he was still going to lose. There was often a type of zeal that comes with fighting even when you knew you were going to lose.


    Now, however, things were different. He was still fighting, just in a different way. There was a part of him that felt a touch of sadness for the detective. A part of him wanted to help her.


    But, alas, she is but an unimportant microcosm not even worthy of the macrocosm.


    At times like these Naymond often wondered. If he went back in time, knowing what he knew now, would he have entered the portal that had brought him here from his world.


    But every time he wondered, the one question that had changed his life would slither back into his mind, reminding him that some things were just that important.


    What would you do to save your world?


    So, now, out of nothing but curiosity, he posed the same question to Alfa. ¡°What would you do to save your world?¡±


    Alfa blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    Naymond was silent for a while, then he smiled at her. It had been a stupid question to ask her. Alfa was only capable of saving her city. The world was far too wide for her. Not because she couldn¡¯t fathom its reach but because she didn¡¯t want to.


    For all her dislike for him, Naymond had actually started growing fond of her. To have her level of authority and still be content with doing only what was required of her. Naymond envied it. Envied the ability to only do what was asked of you.


    ¡°We had fun, didn¡¯t we?¡± he found himself saying with a smile. ¡°It was a nice experience.¡±


    Alfa chuckled as if she couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°Fun?¡± She snorted. ¡°You were the bane of my existence. A thorn in my side that I just couldn¡¯t get rid of. In fact, knowing what I know now, I would¡¯ve fought tooth and nail not to have you when they brought you to me.¡±


    Naymond¡¯s smile grew the more she spoke. He¡¯d always thought of their dynamic as a bit of a toxic one. She tried to keep him in line, and he simply did whatever he wanted to because he could.


    After a while, Alfa¡¯s rant ended and she just stared at Naymond through the bars. Naymoond¡¯s smile twitched a bit, then changed. He gave her his trademark grin. The one he knew always annoyed her.


    Alfa chuckled again. This time it came out softer, and a little more natural. Then she smiled. It was smooth and fond. It fit her face like the perfect glove fits a hand.


    She rested her head against one of the bars as if suddenly tired. ¡°We had fun,¡± she said, staring down at the floor. ¡°Didn¡¯t we, Mr. Hitchcock?¡±


    ¡°There she is.¡± Naymond couldn¡¯t help it. There was just something fun about watching Alfa cave to his shenanigans that always put a smile on his face. It reminded him of how he liked looking for his older sister¡¯s trouble back home. ¡°We had fun, Detective.¡±


    A certain peace settled between them now. A silence. It was comfortable instead of the usual awkwardness that came whenever there was silence between him and her. But in her defense, a silent [Sage] was usually a scheming [Sage]. Besides, he had given her enough firsthand experiences to know that when he was quiet, he was scheming.


    ¡°Tell me something, Nay,¡± she said after a moment.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Naymond said. After all, he was always listening.


    ¡°[Sage] to [Enchanter],¡± she said. ¡°What are our chances of coming out of this alive? The commissioner told me about Melmarc¡¯s father, and I got to see him firsthand.¡± She sighed. ¡°He¡¯s at the top of the food chain, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°The very top.¡±


    ¡°And when did you find out? Did you always know?¡±


    Naymon shook his head. ¡°Found out just before we went to get David.¡±


    ¡°Wait, was that the reason you finally stopped cleaning people¡¯s offices?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°The child of a man that powerful can¡¯t spend their entire mentorship without hands on experience. It only made sense that he get to see the real world¡­ under supervision, of course. And who better to supervise than myself.¡±


    ¡°¡®Who better to supervise than myself¡¯,¡± Alfa echoed in a mocking tone. ¡°A lot of good that did us.¡±


    ¡°It could be worse,¡± Naymond pointed out. Alfa gave him a look so he added, ¡°He could¡¯ve died, then we would¡¯ve died for sure.¡±


    ¡°Are they that powerful?¡± There was a slight touch of disbelief in Alfa¡¯s voice. She knew the people she now had to deal with were powerful but she didn¡¯t want to believe that she lived in a world with people who operated behind the shadows with that much strength.


    ¡°These people keep your world safe, Alfa.¡± Naymond tried to give her a reassuring smile even if he knew his words were not. ¡°They keep the worst portals from killing you. So you best believe that they can do anything they want and get away with it.¡±


    Alfa scratched her head. The action sent her hair into disarray. Running her hand through it, she pushed the chaotic strands from her face. ¡°This isn¡¯t the kind of world I swore to protect.¡±


    ¡°But it is,¡± Naymond corrected. ¡°You just did your best to ignore it. The most powerful who use their powers to keep you alive will always be the ones to rule. From the shadows or in the light, it matters not.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re okay with that?¡±


    Naymond smiled softly. Even his world had been like that. Those in power ruled. But it wasn¡¯t this bad when it came to the Gifted. Their world was still relatively new, not as drowned in mana as this world was. This world had the Gifted in their culture, in their history.


    ¡°To stop them is to die, Detective.¡±


    ¡°Then tell me how to survive, Nay,¡± Alfa pressed. ¡°Tell me how to come out of this alive. There is always a way.¡±


    ¡°And do you mind groveling?¡±


    Alfa¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line that was not quite a frown. Anyone who knew her knew that she was not a groveler. Standing proud in the face of adversity was the way Alfa did her things. Naymond doubted she knew that he was aware of the reason she¡¯d resigned from Delving. The world could say what they wanted to say and she could tell them what she wanted to tell them, but the detective had never wanted to stop Delving.


    But she¡¯d found herself in a sticky situation. Her options had been simple, leave the Delving world with her head held high or remain with her head bowed to the ground.


    Detective Firdausi Alfa was a fighter.


    Naymond looked at the woman in front of him. Her hollow eyes, her disheveled appearance. Her shirt wasn¡¯t even tucked in properly. The woman in front of him had been beaten down by her superiors.


    If she leaves the police force because of this, what will be next for her?


    The woman in front of him had become a shadow of herself. At this point, helping her felt like something he owed her. He had played a part in putting her in her current predicament, after all.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if what I¡¯m about to tell you will help,¡± he said after a while. He couldn¡¯t vouch for anything, but he was willing to try. If he was being honest, she was an innocent bystander caught up in something heavy all because of him. ¡°But if you follow my instructions to the letter, you just might keep your job.¡±


    A small twinkle crept into the Detective¡¯s eyes. ¡°What about your job?¡±


    Naymond waved the question aside as if chasing a fly. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ve already gotten everything I need out of it. Honestly, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything else for me in Brooklyn.¡±


    Alfa was confused. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I mean fight for your job, Alfa. Fight for your job and just maybe you¡¯ll get to keep it.¡±


    The detective frowned. Her expression tightened, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. Naymond could almost see the wheels working in her head. The planning, the strategizing. He wondered if she knew how easy she always was for him to read.


    ¡°Then tell me this,¡± she said with a heavy determination. ¡°Will you be fine? Safe.¡±


    Naymond smiled. Her concern for him was almost genuine. If she tried hard enough, maybe that bright-eyed woman that had woken up one day to discover that she was a Gifted could come back. Maybe not. Sometimes you just went through things so disastrous that they changed you too deeply.


    Naymond wasn¡¯t even sure if he could call whatever had happened to her character development. What even was character development? The inability to be who you once were because you¡¯ve changed or the ability to be that person but the conscious choice to not be them?


    Regardless of what the answer was, one thing was certain. Naymondeel Art Hitchcock had not experienced character development. The man he was when he left his home world was still the man that he was now.


    His goals had not changed. His desires had not been sidetracked. Saving his world was still his priority.


    So, when he looked at Alfa, it was with the realest smile he could give her. ¡°You may not know this, Detective, but I¡¯ve already been taken care of. I¡¯m safe. Now we have to make sure you¡¯re safe.¡±


    His words seemed to reassure her because she dropped her worry for him and said, ¡°You said there is a way.¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°What do I have to do?¡±


    ¡°First, you must appease the gods.¡±


    Alfa blanked. ¡°I have no idea what that means.¡±


    ¡°Me either, I¡¯ve just always wanted to say it.¡± Naymond smiled. ¡°First, you need to get the kid¡¯s phone. Teenagers should not be left walking around without their mobile device.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Alfa slipped her hand into her pocket and brought Melmarc¡¯s phone out. Naymond would be lying if he said that he was not impressed.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been bringing it with me every day,¡± she said in explanation.


    ¡°That¡¯s neat.¡±


    ¡°I turn it on every now and again,¡± she continued. ¡°No calls really. A few messages, though. He gets a few messages every now and again. His therapist messaged a few times, but the messages don¡¯t look like something a therapist would send.¡±


    Naymond raised a brow at that. ¡°You hacked his phone?¡±


    ¡°I had to do something.¡±


    The woman was digging her grave deeper than it already was. ¡°Alright. Whatever happens, take that secret to the grave with you. No one else is to know that you hacked his phone except you, me, and the hacker.¡±


    Alfa nodded.


    ¡°Who else sent him messages?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Someone called ¡®Conspiracy Theorist¡¯ and someone called ¡®Tallest¡¯.¡± She frowned as she mentioned the names. ¡°What kinds of names are those? Is this how kids these days save contacts?¡±


    ¡°As interesting a subject as that is,¡± Naymond said. ¡°It is definitely not important. Just keep the phone on you. Now what do you know about the men that I please. Sorry¡­¡± he shook his head and laughed at himself. ¡°What do you know about the buildings that I own.¡±


    ¡°The legal or illegal ones?¡± she asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re cute.¡± Naymond smiled. ¡°But I don¡¯t legally own any legal buildings. So what do you know about them?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m aware of three.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± He stroked his jaw in thought. He had started to grow a beard since returning from the portal. He needed to shave. ¡°Well, I own about eight. Get me a pen and paper and I¡¯ll write down an address. Go there and ask for Anji.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s Anji?¡±


    ¡°The caretaker,¡± Naymond said. ¡°Nice kid, too. Don¡¯t try to intimidate him. It won¡¯t work. Also, be extra nice since he doesn¡¯t like you.¡±


    ¡°A random kid I¡¯ve never met doesn¡¯t like me? What did I do to him?¡±


    ¡°Your last portal that ended up turning into a Chaos Run with a buck load of casualties. Remember that?¡±


    Alfa¡¯s expression deadened as her eyes drifted into a memory she did not like. ¡°How can I forget.¡±


    There was a lot of pain there. Naymond could see it. When they¡¯d sent him here, he¡¯d done his investigation on her. Something had gone terribly wrong inside that last portal.


    ¡°Did he know any of the casualties?¡± she asked, dread in her voice.


    Naymond nodded. ¡°The first building to collapse had his entire family in it. He knows your entire team by name.¡±


    Alfa looked at him, met his gaze. ¡°Does he want revenge?¡±


    ¡°Anji¡¯s not that illogical,¡± Naymond said, dismissing her words. ¡°He knows it wasn¡¯t your fault or your team¡¯s fault. But emotions aren¡¯t very logical things. He doesn¡¯t want revenge, but he just can¡¯t bring himself to forgive you for failing to close the portal. Anyway, meet him and ask him for Melmarc¡¯s stuff.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? Didn¡¯t the boy stay in a government sanctioned hotel?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Naymond popped the word dramatically. ¡°He stayed at a Naymond sanctioned housing complex.¡±


    Alfa sighed. It was her trademark sigh for when she was tired of his shenanigans. Naymond couldn¡¯t blame her. Sometimes he got tired of his own shenanigans, too.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Naymond said. ¡°When you meet him, tell him that Jabba sends his regards.¡±


    Alfa cocked her head to the side, a question in her eyes. ¡°Do I even want to know?¡±


    ¡°Know what?¡± Naymond feigned innocent ignorance.


    ¡°I might as well,¡± Alfa said, reluctant. ¡°What is a Jabba?¡±


    ¡°A world without Star Wars is just so very sad,¡± Naymond muttered. ¡°Anyway, for this conversation, I am Jabba. But don¡¯t tell him that. He has no idea what Jabba is. Just tell him exactly what I said you should tell him.¡±


    Alfa nodded. She turned and started heading out when she paused. ¡°Will I survive this?¡± she asked.


    Naymond had only one answer for her.


    ¡°Beg the boy.¡±


    The nod Alfa gave to that was slow. But it was also certain. Naymond wasn¡¯t sure if she knew, but Melmarc Lockwood was her only way to redemption now.


    Before long, he was alone again, left to his vices and the voices in his head even if he didn¡¯t actually have voices in his head apart from his own.


    It was time to move on from the Brooklyn police department. He¡¯d been here for a few years but had finally gotten his hands on the things he wanted to get his hands on.


    He pulled up his interface and read the last notification he¡¯d gotten. It put a real smile on his face.


    [Dear Naymondeel Art Hitchcock, your request for sanctuary has been accepted by the August Intruder of this world.]


    [You have retained previous designation Prisoner as granted by the Oath of War of this world.]


    [Congratulations.]


    He¡¯d hoped for the designation of [Guest], but [Prisoner] was also good. It didn¡¯t matter what designation he was given, what mattered was that he could keep working to save his world.


    But, until then, he had a Romanian ring of potential vampires to deal with.


    But first, Naymond turned his head in the general direction of where the offices were. I¡¯ll have to deal with the mole.


    ¡­


    There were a few things that gave Dorthna peace in this little world. One of them was grocery shopping.


    Groceries had never done him wrong. Prices moved every now and then, mostly inflating and never deflating. But such was the way with economies. Dorthna wondered if this world knew how well they got it with the concept of economy. In every world there was inflation. It didn¡¯t matter how long it took or what the product was.


    Inflation was inevitable.


    Almost a few minutes to the house of the Oath of Madness, Dorthna wondered why he still hadn¡¯t approached Melmarc with the new contract. He didn¡¯t necessarily need the contract signed, but there were benefits to signing one for him. On the manipulative side of things, it made them trust him more.


    It was easy to trust someone when you believed they had a stake in the situation.


    So why hadn¡¯t he addressed the topic?


    Because you¡¯re getting soft, he thought to himself. Also, it had been quite a while since he¡¯d trained anybody with any real talent. Also, he¡¯d never trained a [Demon King] before. He¡¯d fought a few, too many years ago¡­


    Actually, now that he thought about it, he¡¯d never fought a [Demon King]. A [Demon God], on the other hand, had been fun fights.


    Somewhere in the part of his mind that he rarely if not never paid any attention, Dorthna counted his steps as the house came into view.


    From the brief period he¡¯d spent training the children he¡¯d learned their strengths and weaknesses. Funny enough, Melmarc¡¯s major strength was Ark¡¯s major weakness, and Ark¡¯s major strength was Melmarc¡¯s major weakness. Both children had grown up depending on each other so subliminally that they¡¯d grown to compliment each other.


    Ark had better strength control than his brother, Melmarc. Melmarc, however, had more finesse. Their training in ¡®Seikuken¡¯ was as slow as Dorthna had anticipated, but he could already predict the results.


    The chances of Ark mastering the skill were so slim that Dorthna had begun to wonder if training him was even worth it at some point. Melmarc, however, was a different case. If he never learnt the skill, then it would be because God had a vendetta against him. And God rarely had a vendetta against anybody but himself.


    A small smile touched Dorthna¡¯s lips as he pitied the fool that would choose to face the two sons of Madness head on.


    Dorthna was still enjoying the easy bliss and myriad of possibilities he¡¯d found himself in with the presence of an [August Intruder] and [Demon King] when the hair on the nape of his neck stood on end.


    He froze, eyes sharpening at the sensation crawling over his skin. He knew what it was, knew the feeling like a man knows the vehicle belonging to his greatest enemy.


    The world blurred around him and it only took Dorthna a moment to realize that he was running. Not away from the harbinger of danger but towards it.


    What has that child done? He cursed under his breath.


    In the space of a heartbeat he was already at the door to the house, ripping it open without bothering to unlock it. The door pulled away from his way, hinges and all and he ignored it. Somewhere in his mind he was aware of the spells he¡¯d cast on the house so many years ago.


    The pack of groceries in his hands landed on one of the chairs with a little too much care as he made his way to the dining table.


    There he saw the cause of his problems, the reason for his panic.


    ¡°What happened?¡± he barked, his annoyance barely concealed. ¡°What did the both of you do?¡±


    Ark had Melmarc cradled in his arms as his brother trembled and convulsed. There were tears in his eyes as he looked up at Dorthna.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± His voice came out steady despite the tears. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened. I just wanted to help.¡± He groaned under the strain of holding Melmarc together. ¡°It¡¯s alright, Mel,¡± he cooed. ¡°It¡¯s going to be alright.¡±


    Dorthna¡¯s frown waned a little. His annoyance had diminished but not his panic. The boys hadn¡¯t done anything stupid, they had just made a mistake.


    Dorthna didn¡¯t look directly at Melmarc, not yet. Instead, he watched the vacuum that was gathering to the child. He was suffusing the entire area around him in nothing but the purest mana. And it was not coming from the world, he was generating it himself.


    Now Dorthna¡¯s annoyance was directed towards to stupid Void beast that had thought it was reasonable to speed up the process of making Melmarc an [August Intruder].


    This is what happens when you give a child so much power.


    The natural order of things should¡¯ve been for Melmarc to assimilate with pure mana on his own, grow into becoming the [August Intruder]. But the Void beast had taken that from him. Skipped through the suffering and hard work and all the way to the good part.


    It¡¯s not their fault, Dorthna reminded himself.


    Ark¡¯s groan grew strained. His brother¡¯s thrashing was beginning to overpower him. Dorthna found it mildly surprising.


    As he thrashed, Melmarc¡¯s gaze focused on something in the corner. Dorthna looked in its direction but saw nothing.


    ¡°Is he having a mental episode?¡± he asked.


    Ark shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. He¡¯s been showing signs of trauma from¡­¡± Melmarc broke his hold and Ark had to readjust. ¡°From whatever happened to him at the portal and he didn¡¯t want to talk.¡±


    ¡°So you made him talk?¡± Dorthna asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t force him or anything,¡± Ark added horribly, not wanting things to be blamed on his recklessness. ¡°I just watched a few therapist videos online where they showed how to get someone to feel like they were in a safe space and talk about things they wouldn¡¯t talk about.¡±


    ¡°Then this happened,¡± Dorthna finished for him.


    Ark looked up at him, imploring. He buckled as he continued to hold Melmarc down.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened,¡± he said with tears in his eyes. ¡°Please save Mel.¡±


    Dorthna looked to the corner again. What in the hell was the boy looking at?


    Then the most terrifying thing happened. The mana in the air that occupied that space vanished, leaving behind nothing but the same kind of vacuum Dorthna kept himself sealed in. Then the world distorted around it. A whisper of a shape appeared.


    Dorthna paled.


    There was only one person Dorthna knew of that was capable of what was happening.


    This cannot be happening. This world isn¡¯t ready for him.


    Less importantly, could Melmarc see it?


    Before he could focus properly, the image disappeared and Ark was sent flying. Acting on nothing but reflex, Dorthna stepped to the side allowing Ark pass. The boy flew straight into the wall behind him and dropped to the ground.


    When Dorthna turned his attention to Melmarc, he found the boy standing. His eyes were glazed, as if he was in some kind of a trance.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Ark asked.


    He had gotten up at some point and was standing next to Dorthna. Dorthna didn¡¯t take his eyes off Melmarc. The boy heaved, shoulders and chest rising and falling heavily.


    Dorthna cocked his head to the side. This was what happened when your mind was weakened and you experienced an overload of raw mana.


    It was an odd state. Many people called it a Berserk state. Dorthna, however, knew it by an older name. People Melmarc¡¯s age rarely ever fell into it. In fact, Dorthna only knew of three people in his entire lifetime that fell into the state at Melmarc¡¯s age.


    Then again, it took far too many years to gather the level of pure mana Melmarc had rummaging around actively in his body. And some fool had expedited the process, cramming decades of years¡¯ worth of pure mana into the boy.


    Void beasts, selfish creatures. Dorthna almost regretted them.


    Berserkers, people called those who fell into states similar to what Melmarc was experiencing. But they were wrong. A berserker was an imitation of it. It was what people fell into when they were weak and didn¡¯t have any pure mana.


    What stood before him was a different thing entirely. Melmarc¡¯s mind was seeking to protect itself and it had gathered all the help it could get. That help being all the pure mana it could get. Being an [August Intruder], if it fought had enough, it could get an almost infinite amount of pure mana, which was now creating the vacuum of pure mana around him.


    A berserker was something anyone could deal with. But Melmarc was not a berserker right now. He was something worse. Something older. Eons ago, there had been only one name for what he was becoming.


    A Mad god.


    ¡°You,¡± Dorthna addressed Ark, ¡°will do nothing. In fact, you will hide. Then, when I am sure you are safe.¡± Rings of pure mana gathered, forming rings around Melmarc¡¯s risk. Dorthna really hoped he would be fast enough. ¡°When you¡¯re safe, I¡¯ll deal with him. Now go, before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    Ark hesitated, fighting against his inherent instinct to protect his brother. Ultimately, his obedience won and he darted out of the room.


    Melmarc still had his eyes on the spot that was still devoid of mana. Dorthna moved and stood in the same spot, drawing his attention to him.


    ¡°Alright, kiddo,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°Let¡¯s see if I can¡¯t put you down in one strike.¡±


    He really hoped that he could.


    Melmarc gave him no answer, his attention shifting to him. He looked at Dorthna, not like an opponent, but like an obstacle to be taken off the board.


    Dorthna really didn¡¯t like playing second fiddle to the person he feared was coming. But life worked the way it worked.


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± he said, then prepared to strike the boy down in one blow.


    His interface popped up in front of him.


    [You have activated World skill Eye of the World]


    ¡­


    [You have activated Human skill Perfect Humanity]


    ¡­


    [You have activated Human skill Broken Domain]


    ¡­


    [You have activated skill Mana Amplification]


    ¡­


    [You have activated Human skill Authority of Man]


    ¡­


    [You have activated World skill Mercy of The World]


    ¡­


    [You have activated skill A Father¡¯s Love]


    ¡­


    [You have activated Mythical skill Garden of Eden]


    ¡­


    [You have activated World skill Child of the World]


    Raw mana filled the empty vacuum around Dorthna and he breathed it in. In a real fight, he wouldn¡¯t need all the skills he¡¯d just used. But Melmarc was just a child, some of the skills he¡¯d activated, like [Mercy of The World] and [A Father¡¯s Love] were designed to make sure Melmarc didn¡¯t accidentally die.


    ¡°Alright, kid,¡± he said, praying to himself that Melmarc wouldn¡¯t die by the time this was over. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    Then Melmarc disappeared.


    Unbothered, Dorthna turned to his left and swung. Fist covered in a ball of pure mana, he shattered the air around him with the single swing.


    Let¡¯s see how you handle this.


    In the world beyond this one, where [Creators] molded universes and sought out the space beyond, there were greater threats than people could imagine. Even at the pinnacle of sentient and sapient beings, there were beings that were nothing more than concepts.


    The Endless, some people called them. In other worlds they were called other things. Bantels, to the world of Lycans who worshipped Luna, the Endless that had given them the moon. But the Endless were not really a thing to worry about because they did not interfere in anything. Instead, they had envoys that kept the balance.


    And it took a lot to garner the attention of an envoy. A great lot. However, there was an envoy that even the envoys feared. An envoy that normal people met almost every day and treated however the envoy wished for them to treat him. An envoy Dorthna was not a fan of in the least.


    It was an envoy of one greater even than the Endless.


    And Melmarc had garnered his attention.


    So Dorthna prayed that the single blow cutting through the air would be enough to put Melmarc down. Because the longer the boy stayed as a Mad god, the higher the chances that this world would be thrown into chaos if the envoy came.


    Melmarc appeared right next to Dorthna with a fist of his own flying forward. When their fists met, Dorthna knew one simple truth.


    One blow would not be enough to take Melmarc down. Melmarc staggered away as their fists clashed.


    He looked down at his hand, then back at Dorthna. He had a new look in his eyes. Dorthna was no longer an obstacle, he was a threat.


    Good.


    Maybe they could end the fight quickly.


    Dorthna prepared himself as Melmarc charged him in his soundless rage. If he gave it just enough of his strength to straddle the line between defeating knocking the boy out and killing the boy, they could have a chance.


    The ground cracked beneath Melmarc¡¯s feet as he rushed forward. Dorthna prepared for him with a new skill added to the pile, something with a little extra oomf.


    Dorthna hoped, as he activated the skill, that in the distance, hopefully many worlds away, the Envoy of God was not on his way.


    [You have activated Existential skill Grace of Existence]

 ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN: The First [Namer]

    ¡°This thing that you¡¯ve done.¡± The Oath of Life shook his head in dismay. ¡°It was a wrong thing. A terrible thing. You do not stand between a parent and their child. Ever.¡±


    Chetam, the Oath of Life, and Ruth were seating in Chetam¡¯s room in a separate wing of the massive building that hosted the meeting of the Oaths. It was built out of the way, winged to the far east for Chetam¡¯s privacy.


    But it wasn¡¯t just for his privacy. Every Oath had their own wing, built with quite the space between each other. Oaths being the chaotic and powerful beings that they were, conflicts could arise from the simplest of differences.


    So, when Chetam had designed the building, he had made it so that the Oaths rarely ever accidentally walked into each other. There were four others like this in Nigeria alone. Fifty-two in the wider continent. Worldwide, Chetam would have to recheck the numbers.


    So here they were, the Oath of Inevitability and the Oath of Shield listening to what the Oath of Life had to say. Shield had spent the night in Chetam¡¯s room. Giving her the bed for her comfort, he had spent most of the dark night on one of the two couches in the room. They were as comfortable as comfort went and he often slept on them even when there was no one on the bed.


    Sleep had eluded him for most of the night as he revised the offer he intended to make to Madness and his wife. Their son had been put in terrible danger so a half-hearted offer of appeasement would simply be nothing but a slap in their face.


    He could inadvertently seal the deal that would kill Ruth.


    Sleep had finally come to him in the early hours of the morning, only for him to be woken up by a knock on his door.


    And that was what had led them here. The Oath of Life giving advice that he had asked for. The man had survived the rumored rampage of an Oath of Madness, after all.


    Ruth was a little bit on the stubborn side of things.


    ¡°His continued service was necessary,¡± she said, like a petulant child. ¡°We needed him in the next portal.¡±


    ¡°Needed?¡± Life asked with a raised brow. ¡°Is that the word you are going for? Remember that in the end, he did not enter that portal.¡±


    ¡°My point exactly,¡± she snapped. ¡°He did not enter the portal and it became a Chaos Run.¡±


    ¡°A Chaos Run that the [August Intruder] dealt with by being present,¡± Chetam muttered under his breath.


    Life looked from one of them to the other. He had a calculative twinkle in his eye, like a troublemaker asking himself if he wanted to cause trouble. Dressed in a robe of grey, he looked like some lost Kungfu master. He stroked his white beard after a while and shook his head as if dispelling whatever thought had been on his mind.


    ¡°Would you believe me if I told you that this was a part of the reason I chose to reveal myself?¡± he asked.


    Chetam shook his head. ¡°Your arrival was not inevitable, so I do not believe it was.¡±


    ¡°If he does not believe it was then neither do I,¡± Ruth added. ¡°I have come to learn to trust his instincts.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps it was not a strong enough part,¡± Life said. ¡°But it does not change the fact that it was a part of it.¡±


    He moved, old as he was, with the grace of the young and took a seat on the second couch in the room. It was placed strategically at the corner so that whoever sat on it could see everything that happened in the room. A sharp contrast to its position, the one Chetam sat on was placed in the opposing direction so that there was no one that would enter the room that he would not be aware of.


    ¡°How did the fight against Madness go?¡± Life asked.


    Ruth looked to Chetam but Chetam gave her nothing to work with. Sometimes she wanted his opinion on things. If he didn¡¯t know how much Oaths did not get along, he would¡¯ve thought she liked him.


    ¡°Does this help us in any way?¡± she asked.


    ¡°If you want my help, perhaps you should consider humoring me.¡±


    Ruth¡¯s eyes flashed with annoyance. ¡°I never said I wanted your help.¡±


    ¡°Inevitability over there did.¡± Life punctuated his statement by pointing his staff at Chetam. ¡°Now, I know that the both of you have always been so close that you allow him a certain level of control over you, but if I was wrong in assuming the same stands here, then you have my apologies. I will rise and take my leave.¡±


    Ruth¡¯s gaze narrowed as she turned it on Chetam. ¡°You called him here?¡± she demanded with a tone of accusation.


    Personally, Chetam didn¡¯t have the strength to deal with her displeasure. ¡°I asked him how to handle the situation of dealing with Madness just now, in front of you, ba?¡±


    Ruth didn¡¯t look confused. ¡°That does not answer my question.¡±


    Chetam fell silent for a moment, staring at the wall without interest. Sometimes he wondered what life would be like for him right now if he was not an Oath. Would it be more peaceful?


    ¡°Chetam,¡± Ruth hissed.


    Chetam was suddenly tired. A part of him wanted to abandon Ruth¡¯s case to her to deal with. Since what she¡¯d done with Madness, he had looked at the possible outcome almost every day. And every day his Oath skill told him that the chances of her coming out of this situation without serious bodily harm was less than ten percent. The chances of her coming out alive was higher than ten but less than fifteen.


    She had a higher chance with his presence, an almost nonexistent one with his absence. It was the one secret that he kept from her. The fact that she walked a thin line between life and death and she didn¡¯t know it.


    ¡°Chetam?¡± Ruth¡¯s voice rang a little softer this time, as if she knew she was getting on his nerves. It dropped another octave. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Somehow her words only annoyed him more. ¡°Sorry for yourself.¡±


    The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. A frown wrapped itself around his lips. Chetam ran a frustrated hand over his head. Unlike the other Oaths, being Nigerian did not allow him the grace of running a hand through his hair.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said into the silence that had preceded his response to her. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a good night¡¯s sleep on account of all the new Oath and threat of Madness and [August Intruder].¡±


    He looked up at Ruth and saw that her eyes had grown rheumy. But she did not cry, not a single tear slipped from her eyes.


    She nodded once as if to say that was enough and she understood. ¡°The Nigerian in you tends to come out when you¡¯re in a bad state.¡±


    The Nigerian in me. Chetam always wondered at that. All his non-African friends liked to say that. It was almost as if they did not understand that even the good and simple part of him was Nigerian as well.


    Then again, he could understand a bit of what they were saying. He spoke English with a simple enough accent. He articulated his words well enough that it did not have foreigners squinting when he spoke as if sharper eyes would make them understand him better. It was a benefit of coming from a family that traveled over the seas a lot growing up.


    Then there were times when his brogue corrupted his words. Times like this, when he was stressed and cranky. Times when he saw something meant to be inevitable and fought against it. There was a part of him in a corner where his Oath was responsible that wanted him not to fight the more inevitable things seemed.


    Fighting against that side of him left a bad taste in his mouth.


    ¡°Was what you said true?¡± he asked, moving the conversation away from fighting the inevitable.


    Life rested his staff across his lap. ¡°About being the revered Melchizedek from the bible?¡±


    Chetam shook his head. Left to him, the man could claim to be Adam from the garden of Eden and he wouldn¡¯t care. ¡°I meant the Madness that killed her Oaths. Was it true?¡±


    Life nodded. ¡°It was a sad thing to watch those children devolve into such a state.¡±


    ¡°And what were you doing through it?¡± It was a genuine question, devoid of accusation.


    ¡°You may not know this, but while I am long lived and the Oath of life, I am not necessarily immune to death. And I am not designed for combat. Not by class or by Oath.¡± He said the words slowly as if trying to pass a message Chetam could not decipher. ¡°I have lived as long as I have¡ªwhich is very long¡ªbecause I have learnt to stay away from trouble.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean that in the event of problems we cannot count on you?¡± Ruth asked, suspicious. ¡°That¡¯s a worrying thing to know of another Oath. Even Grace fights, and she is not a combatant in any way.¡±


    He looked between the both of them, a touch of surprise in his eyes. ¡°Pardon my confusion but do the both of you actually not know how her Oath works?¡±


    They did not. In fact, the only things they knew about the other Oaths were known simply because they had found out about them in combat situations. Almost all the Oaths had combat use. It was part of the reason Inevitability was still a bit mysterious to the other Oaths. He fought, but there was more to his Oath than combat.


    ¡°Grace,¡± Life began, getting his answer from their silence, ¡°is the Oath of God¡¯s benevolence. At least that¡¯s what it¡¯s supposed to be. But she is not, because for her to be the Oath of God¡¯s benevolence implies that there is a God.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a priest?¡± Ruth asked, confused. ¡°Isn¡¯t the entire thing about God supposed to be some kind of shtick for you?¡±


    ¡°If there is a God, child, he does not bother himself with the likes of beings as lowly as us.¡± He gave her an elderly smile, a kind one. ¡°So, if we dispense of the concept of gods or a one true God, that means that the Oath of Grace is nothing more than the world extending some level of benevolence to her. She is, in a simpler term, partly immune to the negativity and karmic retribution of her actions.¡±


    Chetam looked at him flatly. ¡°How is that a simpler term?¡±


    Life paused, then nodded. ¡°Fair. It is not. But, as I was saying, the way Grace works is by accumulating the good that the world has to offer and wielding it for herself. Haven¡¯t you noticed how no one has an issue with her. Ever?¡±


    Now that Chetam thought about it, that was true. Grace was the one Oath that regardless of her opinions, no one tried to have a spat with her. He had just always assumed that even when the other Oaths disagreed with her, it never devolved to the threat of violence because they knew that she was not combat based.


    ¡°So it¡¯s advanced mind control?¡± Ruth asked.


    Life held up a finger to correct her opinion. ¡°Not mind control. More of goodwill. If she walks into a forest filled with monsters from this world, they would neither bite her nor attack her. That is because of her Oath. She is Grace. She is quite literally the embodiment of the world¡¯s benevolence. Earned or unearned.¡±


    ¡°When you put that into perspective, it¡¯s rather deep.¡± Ruth pulled herself up on the bed and crossed her legs beneath her. ¡°But what does that have to do with the fact that she fights?¡±


    Chetam felt like he had the answer to that question.


    ¡°Because the world is in her favor, her chances of survival are high.¡± It made a little bit of sense when he thought about it. He had seen Grace on a battlefield, and she moved as if the world was her friend. As if she was forgiven of the sins she had committed or would commit. ¡°She is¡­ powerful because she is not a threat until she is.¡±


    Life snapped a finger at him. There was so much youthful movement in fingers that looked so old. ¡°Correct.¡± He turned his attention to Ruth. ¡°Now you see why she can walk in a battlefield even as a noncombat Oath.¡±


    ¡°I can,¡± Chetam mused.


    A being that was loved by the world, forgiven even before her crimes. No. In spite of her crimes. It was as terrifying as it was glorious. Would he be able to win a fight against someone like that?Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Chetam¡¯s Oath worked on the variables of reality. He was the inevitable outcome. At least he worked towards being that. But there was a downside to his Oath. It did not make him invincible but directed him towards being inevitable. As daunting as it sounded, the inevitable was not always in his favor.


    For instance, what would it mean to be inevitable when standing against an opponent with the benevolence of everything on her shoulders.


    Chetam shook his head. The thought was truly daunting. Almost as daunting as mind control.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it,¡± he found himself muttering.


    Life made a sound that could¡¯ve meant anything. ¡°On a subliminal level that even you do not understand, the Oaths are aware of how daunting the others are. War to Grace. Inevitability to Madness. Shield to Desolation. Fear to Sloth.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re saying that they cancel each other out?¡± Ruth asked, surprised.


    ¡°No.¡± Life met her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m saying that they are a threat to each other.¡±


    Ruth looked at Chetam as if she¡¯d just heard something truly important. ¡°Inevitability to Madness,¡± she said.


    ¡°War to Grace,¡± he repeated.


    Life looked at the two of them. ¡°Fear to Desolation?¡±


    Chetam and Ruth looked at him. Had the man just posed it as a question.


    Life shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know what was happening. You guys were just repeating things.¡±


    ¡°We were not,¡± Ruth refused. ¡°We were just saying that these are counter points.¡±


    ¡°Counter points?¡±


    ¡°Oaths that were a threat to the other Oaths.¡±


    Life laughed like a child at a stupid joke. ¡°Oh, God, no. Not counter points. I am so sorry for the misunderstanding. I¡¯m just saying that some Oaths work a little too differently from the others, not that they were counters. Like War seeks to punish and take and give. They are guided by the actual rules of engagement. Meanwhile Grace is the opposing concept of it. Grace seeks to forgive and forget and live with and without. Oh, they aren¡¯t counters. Especially not to Madness. Madness is just a freak that you should all be very worried about.¡±


    ¡°Are you an advocate of Madness or something?¡± Ruth asked, annoyed. Chetam couldn¡¯t deny the man¡¯s constant glazing of Madness was also getting on his nerves.


    Life opened his mouth, then closed it. ¡°Maybe I have lived in fear of Madness for so long that I haven¡¯t even realized it,¡± he said in the end, as if coming to the realization. ¡°I have always just thought of the Oath as the one that keeps all the other Oaths in check. Once they acknowledge just how terrifying it is, they begin to do things with Madness in mind.¡±


    Chetam could not deny that Life was saying the truth. Whenever the Oaths did things, they always wondered if it would affect Madness in any way. If it did, they were always careful about it. Why? Because you never knew what would annoy the Oath and have him walking into your house prepared to choke you out with an undersized teddy bear.


    As much as he would¡¯ve liked to say that it was an exaggeration, it was not. Madness had once attended a meeting with War and had actually come with a teddy bear that was a little too small for an adult, something fit for a toddler. They had converged to punish one of the old Oaths that was no more for something they had done. Even though the punishment had ended up being something nonviolent, there was no one who had not been more than aware of the teddy bear throughout the meeting.


    Madness, Chetam was coming to realize, might just be more of a threat than he had thought.


    ¡°So you see why someone like Grace can grace the battlefield while I do not,¡± Life said with a touch of satisfaction. ¡°Because she isn¡¯t an enemy of conflict, neither is she averse to it. Anyway, let¡¯s hear what you have as compensation for what was done to Madness.¡±


    Chetam sighed.


    For all the old man¡¯s age, he was just another confused Oath among Oaths.


    ¡­


    Dorthna held his hand out in front of him and stopped Melmarc¡¯s charging form with it. The boy¡¯s head ran straight into his arm and pulled to an abrupt stop. On a lesser person, it would¡¯ve broken their neck. But the boy was not a lesser person.


    The boy¡¯s reaction to being stopped was to pull his head back and send his arm swinging. Dorthna leaned away from it. The fist swung past him, and he stepped into Melmarc¡¯s space.


    Before Melmarc could react to the sudden change of pace, Dorthna slapped him.


    He swung his hand a little too hard that the sound of the impact cracked through the entire house like a giant whip.


    [Skill A Father¡¯s Love is in effect]


    Dorthna was glad for the skill as Melmarc stumbled away and crashed into the wall. Hairline fractures filled up the entire wall, cracks that heralded the crumbling of a structure. Then the cracks reversed, sealing themselves back up.


    Melmarc pulled himself away from the wall and swung. The distance between them was too large for him to be trying to hit Dorthna, so Dorthna wasn¡¯t surprised when the ring of pure mana that encircled the wrist of the swung fist detached itself and came flying at him.


    Like any knowledgeable being with half a brain, Dorthna hated fighting against pure mana. In reaction to the attack, he held his hand out.


    [Skill Authority of Man is in effect]


    The pure mana around him expanded a little, swallowing the ring of mana. In the blink of an eye, the ring vanished, sent to some point in the world where it would not take a stray life. [Authority of Man] gave its owner a level of control over the world around them. It moved reality in different ways. At a certain percentage of mastery, it was even rumored to move time.


    In the wider cosmos, Dorthna could count on one hand how many beings possessed the skill.


    Melmarc charged at him once more, moving with a speed that was unfair forhis size. As he came, Dorthna felt something go through him and knew that the boy had used [Knowledge is Power] on him. Dorthna checked his eyes from the distance and found them still glazed over.


    [Grace of Existence] was really taking its time to work.


    [Knowledge is Power] working at the same time as [A Father¡¯s Love] would explain how the boy had gotten up so easily after the slap. With [Knowledge is Power] acting to mitigate the damage and [A Father¡¯s Love] taking more than half the effect of the pain and damage from Melmarc, he would¡¯ve basically felt nothing from the slap.


    Dorthna was almost impressed. Even mad as he was, Melmarc was making intelligent battle decisions. Maybe he did have a commendable level of battle IQ, Dorthna thought as he deflected a flying fist with a raised hand.


    Stopping the punch, he redirected it to the side, hoping to send Melmarc staggering once more. It didn¡¯t. In fact, Melmarc felt a little too heavy, and the punch hadn¡¯t been thrown with as much force as he¡¯d expected.


    [Weight of Jupiter]? He wondered. Had the boy used it at the last minute, trying to circumvent the disadvantage of speed by throwing the punch and activating it at the last minute?


    Melmarc spun into his redirected punch, moving with a speed that was fitting for his larger frame and tried to smash an elbow into Dorthna¡¯s face. Against a lesser opponent, it would¡¯ve been effective. But Dorthna was not a lesser opponent. He had fought Mad gods far more superior to Melmarc.


    But that was at my peak, he reminded himself as he caught the elbow in an open hand. The boy was certainly heavier. Dorthna wondered if he knew that [Weight of Jupiter] also used pure mana to work.


    The elbow disappeared from his hand and a ring of mana suddenly appeared right in front of Dorthna¡¯s face. He grabbed it before it made impact then it exploded in his hand.


    His interface came up in front of him.


    [You are confined to a space of concentrated pure mana]


    [Skills will not work as intended]


    Dorthna chuckled as he looked at Melmarc. Eyes in an empty trance, the boy raised his arms in preparation for combat.


    The poor fool was trying to engage him in close combat. In a normal situation, Dorthna would be at a disadvantage. Melmarc had the physical strength of [Weight of Jupiter], the ability to still use pure mana and the grace of [Rings of Saturn] still active in the rings that now wrapped around his wrists.


    It was, by all accounts, an unfair fight. Unfortunately, Dorthna by his simple existence was an unfair fight.


    [World skill Child of The World is in effect]


    Perhaps he would have to teach the boy what types of skills were not confined by things like raw mana.


    With the skill in effect, Dorthna felt every trace of his mana leave him. It absorbed itself straight into his skin and bones and muscle. It exchanged every single drop of mana he owned, for human physical attributes.


    In this moment, Dorthna did not have a single drop of mana left within or around him. The activation of [Child of the World] was the death of all mana-based skill. It cut him off from mana and left him in a state existence called [Unbound].


    Dorthna disappeared from Melmarc¡¯s view for a quick moment, surprising the boy even in his maddened state. When he appeared, he grabbed the boy¡¯s face in his hand and slammed his head into the ground.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes remained fixed on him within the domain of his skill [Secrecy].


    ¡°You are still awake,¡± Dorthna noted. ¡°It is good to know that you can take the pain.¡±


    Melmarc reached up with a hand. With a longer reach than Dorthna, he grabbed Dorthna by the face and tried to pull him in.


    ¡°Disrespectful,¡± Dorthna muttered, smiling.


    He slammed the boy¡¯s face back into the ground once more. Then again. And again. And again. As if knowing that his strategy was not working, Melmarc took his hand from Dorthna¡¯s face and grabbed his arm. His legs moved next, throwing themselves around Dorthna¡¯s arm.


    An arm bar? Dorthna thought with a teacher¡¯s curiosity.


    From their current angle it would be interesting to see how the boy intended to pull it off. And he almost let him, if he didn¡¯t have more worrying things to avoid.


    So he lifted Melmarc off the ground with his coveted arm and slammed him back down. The impact boomed through the building, shaking it as a small crater formed in the ground. Melmarc¡¯s hold slackened but did not wane.


    Come on [Grace of Existence], Dorthna thought as he lifted Melmarc once more and slammed him back into the ground. Do your damn job.


    Melmarc released him on the second slam but Dorthna grabbed a fistful of his shirt before he could escape. He lifted him up once more, eyes on the only place in the room that remained devoid of mana, and slammed him back down.


    [Existential skill Grace of Existence is in effect]


    Finally, Dorthna sighed, releasing Melmarc and walking straight into the space without mana.


    The moment he walked into it, he felt the weight of everything around him grow steady, take form. He felt order taking dominance over everything. It had been a last minute decision. In truth, at one percent mastery, the skill was more of a gamble.


    [Grace of Existence] was similar to the World skill [Grace of the World]. It just worked on a larger scale than its world skill companion. At its current mastery, Dorthna had no real control over it. It reverted everything to its original state at best it could, chipping away at anything it considered an anomaly.


    It was the reason he¡¯d been watching Melmarc the entire fight, checking to see if the skill had been chipping away at the anomaly that was his madness. Once it really started to take effect, however, it did it in a single strike.


    Dorthna had chosen that strike to be the thing that puts Melmarc down. But the fight had interested him a little too much, so he¡¯d changed his mind. Instead, he was using it on the path the Envoy of God would use to arrive on this world.


    Standing within the space, he felt existence realign itself. He grinned as mana refilled the space, sealing off the anti-portal that was being created.


    ¡°Not today, Jabari,¡± he gloated, addressing the envoy by name.


    There was always a possibility that the being would hear him. But even if he did, with the skill in effect, he wouldn¡¯t be able to track him to what world.


    Best of all, the man did not know how to hold a grudge to save his life.


    Most likely, the only reason the man¡¯s arrival had taken this long was because Melmarc had put the world in a state where it fought off the presence of anything trying to get into it. The envoy was probably also preoccupied with whatever it was that he was doing.


    Whatever the real reason, Dorthna was glad he didn¡¯t have to deal with the headache that was Jabari. The man carried good and evil in both hands and used each one simply as a stepping stone in the direction of where he wanted to go.


    Dorthna had once watched him destroy an entire world simply because he was killing a being on the cusp of advancing to [Creator]. He was, in his own way, like an Oath of Madness, guided by rules no one but himself understood.


    When the hole in existence was finally sealed, only then did Dorthna turn his attention back to Melmarc.


    He found the boy standing in a healing crater in the ground. Cracks reversed themselves and the ground swelled back to its normal form.


    ¡°Alright then,¡± Dorthna said to him even though he knew Melmarc would not understand him. ¡°Now that we¡¯re alone, let¡¯s get to it.¡±


    Once more, Melmarc disappeared from sight and Dorthna remembered what Ark had said about the reason he didn¡¯t think he was better than his younger brother.


    In just a few exchange of blows, Dorthna could agree with one thing as Melmarc appeared above him with a falling fist.


    He has definitely been holding back.


    ¡­


    On a distant world devoid of reach a man sat staring at a dying sun. He wore simple clothes. A cassock of the deepest black he had been told often seemed to swallow the light of the sun. Beside him, rested comfortably on a piece of rock, was a very long sword. An Odachi. In some worlds it was called a tachi. Masamune, it was named by its creator. A sword that purified the mana of its wielder.


    Once upon a time, not too long ago, he had used it to purify the mana of a simple boy. That child was grown now, eighteen years, maybe nineteen. But his training was not done.


    The boy¡¯s story had slowed but was not ended. So, the man in the cassock sat here, waiting for what would come next. Alone on a desolate solar system with a dying sun. The failed work of a sentinel trying to advance to the level of [Creator].


    A slight tingle touched the man¡¯s hand, and he looked down at it. The dying mana of this world moved away from him, and he tilted his head to the side in curiosity. Something was calling to him, pulling him.


    Out there in the cosmos of existence it seemed a universe was begging for his assistance, calling to him for help.


    He raised his hand, held it out in front of him and studied the call for help. He was here to witness the end of a failure, but this was pleading to drag him from it. Was it worth it, he wondered. Curious, he tapped into the call and felt the presence of two beings fighting.


    One was strong and young, a little too strong for how young he was. The other was weak and old, older than far too many universes in existence. Far too weak for how strong he was. A limiter, the man noted. A seal placed to keep him in check.


    A curious thing. The limiter was eerily familiar to one of many limiters the man possessed.


    The man in his cassock was still watching, a part of his attention fixed on the events in a universe somewhere out there while another watched this solar system die. And another part pondered on whether the creator of this failure deserved a visit from him.


    As he watched, the pull on him slackened. It waned until it was almost gone. Then there was only a sliver of it left.


    The man turned his attention away from it and returned to it to the dying sun. If the universe had wanted him badly enough, it would¡¯ve fought hard enough. It did not fight hard enough, so it¡ª


    ¡°Not today, Jabari,¡±


    The words caressed his ears from too many worlds away. So intentional had it been that the man knew he had been addressed directly. And he knew the voice, knew it as a man knows an old friend. As a man knows his brother.


    The man latched onto the last sliver of the world that had called to him before its call disappeared and trapped it in his mind.


    Once the call was gone, he rose to his feet and picked up the weapon, Masamune. It would be a long trip, but he wasn¡¯t bothered. He currently wasn¡¯t doing anything worthwhile except watching a world die.


    So, a trip to a world that had begged for his help at some point didn¡¯t seem like a bad idea. After all, it had been too long. Perhaps it was time to see an old human. It was time to visit the standing owner of the [The Garden of Eden], the man who had planted Yggdrasil, the first [Namer].


    With the weapon, Masamune, he split the air before him and tore a portal in this world. When he stepped through it, his action was the last of any action that would be taken on the failed world. Its weight plunged it into its final ruin.


    Leaving the solar system, Jabari realized that perhaps he was wrong. In some random world in that failed universe, something that had not grown to decide on what it was took its first breath. It was the first sentient creation on that dying world. Sadly, its first breath was its last.


    It died with its failed universe.


    If Jabari had spent enough time knowing it, perhaps he would¡¯ve mourned it. But he did not know it, so he did not mourn it. Besides, there was something a little more curious to handle now.


    As he crossed the path between worlds, he acknowledged one simple truth¡­


    It would be a long journey, spanning days, maybe months. Potentially years. But it changed nothing.


    It was time to meet the man who had named him Jabari.

 ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHT: The Gift of Possibility

    A thrown fist. A straight punch, right from the boxing handbook. A right hook, designed to take a person¡¯s head off, or at least crack a jaw. A spinning backhanded blow. A flying knee straight from the beauties of muay Thai.


    Even with his faculties waning, Melmarc knew to stick to the basis.


    Every blow was powerful, threatening to send shockwaves through the house. The fight had moved him and Dorthna into the living room. The television had fallen casualty to their battle, if it could be called a battle.


    Dorthna ducked a blow seamlessly, coming up on Melmarc¡¯s other side. His fist moved, a straight jab to the boy¡¯s side. Melmarc staggered from the blow, brows creased in a show of pain.


    Dorthna acknowledged his perseverance.


    This was the fifth strike he¡¯d given the child, and Melmarc still would not fall. It was commendable. Terrifying, too, if he was being honest. Then again, the boy was using all his skills, throwing out rings of pure mana with every chance he got.


    Twice, Melmarc had used [Mana dilation] on Dorthna. On both occasions, Dorthna had felt the pulse go through him, trying to do something. Whatever it was, it had no impact since he had no skill that was already on cooldown.


    There was one positive to the battle so far, Dorthna noted as Melmarc¡¯s fist slammed into the wall where his face had been, sending shockwaves going through the house. The boy was beginning to show feelings. There was no awareness yet, but there was pain.


    And pain was a start.


    Evading a flurry of punches and low kicks, Dorthna kept him and Melmarc confined to the living room. It was his benevolence that kept them there, preventing further damage to the house. The building itself had enough spells and enchantments to restore it to its original form. The furniture and adornments, however, did not.


    Melmarc was proving an annoying child to stop. After another three hits, though, Dorthna felt like he¡¯d gotten the hang of it. The aim, after all, was to render the boy powerless, not dead. But that was the trick with Mad gods, they had the ability to tap into a near infinite supply of pure mana¡ªmana at its strongest and most original form. You did not tire out a Mad god because they no longer had the subconscious inhibitions that stopped them from tapping into that pool.


    So you had to put them to sleep.


    There in lay the reason Dorthna had been fighting for so long. Limited as he was, he remained a powerful being that had accomplished far more things than the years Melmarc had been alive. Each strike he dealt the boy was gauged, subdued. He had to count up from his weakest strike until he got to the one that was strong enough to achieve his goal without killing.


    Melmarc threw a combo, three well placed punches that switched into a feint followed by a high kick. It was a familiar technique, one that Dorthna had seen Aurora use once upon a time.


    He slapped the first blow aside, blocked the second, and stopped the third by allowing it roll off his shoulder. The feint was taken with all the pretense of an adult boosting the morale of an infant. Then the high kick came and Dorthna swept Melmarc¡¯s single leg out from under him.


    He stepped back when Melmarc hit the ground and waited. The boy¡¯s eyes were fixed on the ceiling above him and Dorthna wondered if the boy was in shock.


    He cocked his head to the side. ¡°You can¡¯t be done,¡± he said, curious. ¡°Are you done?¡± he leaned slightly forward, looked Melmarc in the eyes. ¡°Can you understand me?¡±


    Melmarc left the ground in a burst of speed so sudden that the force broke the surface level of the floor. His movements were getting faster and he took Dorthna in a bear hug.


    Dorthna halted his approach with a raised hand, palm flattening against Melmarc¡¯s forehead.


    ¡°I swear,¡± he grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m going to take a lot of [EP] out of you for this.¡±


    Melmarc, with his longer reach, grabbed onto Dorthna¡¯s sides with both hands and squeezed.


    A touch of pain flitted up Dorthna¡¯s sides and his jaw dropped in shock. It was more of discomfort than pain, but it was there. A hint of pain. A shadow. A promise.


    How?


    The word exploded in his mind, filling him with part confusion and a tingle of excitement that he hadn¡¯t felt in a while.


    Calm down, Norath, he chided himself, reining in his excitement. He¡¯s just a boy, not a real Mad god.


    Somewhere in the recesses of Melmarc¡¯s mind where the madness had not reached he must¡¯ve noticed Dorthna¡¯s reaction because his grip tightened, squeezing harder.


    Dorthna did not stop him, not yet. Instead, he basked temporarily in the effect the boy had created. He sighed in the relief of pain. A simple smile touched his lips and his eyes softened.


    Finally.


    He shook his head when he realized that Melmarc wasn¡¯t just trying to inflict pain. The boy was trying to lift him off the ground.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, grumbling as he pulled his attention from the pain. ¡°You don¡¯t get to toss me around like a rag doll.¡±


    One hand still holding Melmarc back, he slapped him with the other. An increase in how much force he had been using led to a different outcome from the past. Melmarc didn¡¯t stumble into the wall. He went straight through it.


    Dorthna grimaced as he stared through the hole in the wall and into the kitchen.


    He¡¯d just sent a maddened child into the place where they kept the domestic house weapons. He¡¯d sent Melmarc to the cooking armory.


    Look on the bright side, Nosrath, he told himself. At least, it¡¯s not where they kept the demi-god weapons he came back with.


    The last thing he needed was Melmarc getting his hands on anything with a hint of broken divinity in his current state.


    Then again, Dorthna found himself wondering just how much chaos the boy could cause if he got his hands on¡ª


    His hand snapped out in front of him and grabbed the knife by the blade before it stabbed his eye. Bringing his hand down, he dropped the knife to the floor.


    A surprised yet impressed sound left his lips in the form of a grunt. ¡°You¡¯ve got good aim,¡± he commented.


    Inside the kitchen, Melmarc stood like an angry bulwark. His size definitely made him look intimidating.


    ¡°Meh.¡± Dorthna shrugged to himself. ¡°I¡¯ve seen bigger.¡±


    When he really paid attention to Melmarc, he found the boy with the house¡¯s largest cleaver in his hand. He was bleeding from an injury that was hidden under his hair and one of his legs was bent the wrong way.


    Dorthna grimaced at the leg. He didn¡¯t know which was more disturbing, the way the leg was bent or that Melmarc still stood on it as if there was nothing wrong with it.


    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Dorthna stepped through the wall that was already reconstructing itself. ¡°I¡¯m trying to knock you out not damage you. It¡¯s time we end this.¡±


    Flinging the cleaver right at Dorthna¡¯s face, Melmarc rushed him. Both actions were executed almost perfectly. Dorthna moved his head to the side, dodging a cleaver that had been perfectly aimed at his eye, again, and raised his palm to deflect Melmarc¡¯s blow.


    Guiding the first blow to the side, he struck Melmarc in the chest. The force sent Melmarc staggering back and Dorthna captured the surrendered space by stepping forward. Melmarc rushed forward again, throwing a new combo.


    Dorthna¡¯s raised palms moved each blow aside and he struck Melmarc in the chest again. Melmarc took two steps back, gasping from the impact of the blow, then dropped to his knee.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Dorthna captured the new relinquished space again with a few steps. Melmarc raised his head, looked at Dorthna. The rage in his eyes was unhidden. That was good, emotion was some form of reason.


    But Dorthna wasn¡¯t looking for some form of reason. In fact, he wasn¡¯t looking for reason. He was looking for the absence of anything. He was looking for an unconscious boy.


    Melmarc moved again as he stepped forward and Dorthna frowned. It was taking everything he had not to just hit the boy with what he got.


    Why won¡¯t you just stay down?


    A massive fist came flying at his face and he dodged it. Melmarc moved past him as if he had never been his aim at all. He ran for the wall.


    Dorthna realized a bit late that Melmarc was making a run for it. The level of stupidity he must¡¯ve possessed to not consider that the boy would run did not escape him as he turned and gave chase only to find Melmarc soaring through the air, right back at him.


    Eyes widening in surprise, Dorthna realized what had happened. Melmarc hadn¡¯t been running. He¡¯d thrown himself into the wall and jumped off it. It was a difficult thing to envision a person as tall as Melmarc doing anything acrobatic.


    But here he was, flying through the air, about to slam into him with his entire body.


    Dorthna sighed. Why did he have to develop the Oath of Madness first?


    Melmarc landed into waiting arms as Dorthna caught him horizontally. Then, like the famous wrestlers Ark loved watching as a child, he turned and slammed Melmarc into the ground. Then he got on top of him.


    ¡°Let¡¯s try to keep you in one piece,¡± he muttered, grabbing the boy by the neck with one hand. Then he squeezed.


    Melmarc struggled beneath him. But for all the force the boy had, Dorthna did not budge. Failing to throw Dorthna off, his hands came flying. Fist after fist slammed into Dorthna¡¯s face. He felt the discomfort, the shadow of what pain might feel like. He ignored it.


    After three blows, Melmarc¡¯s fists lost the strength that they¡¯d had. By the fifth punch, he was only throwing one arm.


    The eighth punch didn¡¯t cross half its distance before the arm fell limp to the side.


    One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three. Dorthna released Melmarc¡¯s neck.


    Closed eyes stared back at him. The boy had lost consciousness but Dorthna needed to be sure.


    He patted his face, tapping it lightly. Melmarc¡¯s head turned but that was all. He was definitely unconscious.


    Right?


    Dorthna frowned. He has to be.


    Somewhere in his mind, he wanted to call Ark to take his younger brother upstairs. But he couldn¡¯t. That would put Ark at risk. Potential risk, at least.


    Dorthna groaned. ¡°This is why I hate fighting people like this.¡±


    The thing about Oaths of Madness was that sometimes, in their madness, they could pull off the most complex and amazing plans. Only someone that was mad enough would stop fighting back in the middle of being choked, pretend to pass out, and allow themselves to be choked for an extra three mississippis. That was why he¡¯d waited a little longer. Long enough to make sure the person was unconscious but short enough to not kill them.


    And Melmarc definitely had enough madness in him to fall under that category.


    Alright, Dorthna told himself. One last check.


    He leaned forward slowly, still straddling Melmarc, and brought his ear to the boy¡¯s nose. The breathing was at a steady rhythm. Dorthna sighed. What he had beneath him was a perfectly unconscious bo¡ª


    Warm air tickled his ear and he shot back in the blink of an eye just before Melmarc¡¯s teeth clamped down on the air where his ear had been.


    Dorthna punched him in the face before he even knew what he was doing and Melmarc¡¯s head hung limp to the side.


    ¡°What the fuck!?¡±


    A few seconds later, maybe a minute or two, Dorthna was standing at the kitchen sink washing his hands. There was no blood on him and his hands weren¡¯t stained in any way. There was just something cathartic about the action, like drinking hot water. When he was done, he turned and leaned back against the sink, staring at a definitely unconscious Melmarc.


    The fight had been interesting as far as spars against young kids went. A Mad god at an age younger than eighteen was definitely a new occurrence in his experience. In the wider reach of existence, he was sure Melmarc wasn¡¯t the first, but Melmarc was his first.


    All his skills deactivated, apart from the ones that were never inactive, Dorthna took Melmarc by the leg and started pulling him along the ground. The path they¡¯d made to the kitchen through the wall had been sealed off so he¡¯d had to take a roundabout route through the door.


    Only when he got to the stairs did he release Melmarc¡¯s leg. Lifting him by the fabric of his shirt that covered his chest with one hand, Dorthna carried him upstairs, allowing him dangle uselessly.


    He found Ark quietly standing at the top of the stairs, waiting impatiently. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and guilt had never looked heavier on a child.


    Dorthna sighed as he passed him, patting him gently on the arm. ¡°Not your fault,¡± he told him, even though he knew it would take more than that for Ark to believe him. ¡°Personally, I¡¯d say we were lucky it happened now.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡±


    Dorthna paused to look back, but Ark hadn¡¯t turned to look at him.


    ¡°The living room¡¯s a heavy mess,¡± he answered. ¡°And we broke a lot of things that have fixed themselves. Imagine if this had happened in front of one of your weak therapists.¡±


    Ark stiffened abruptly and he knew the boy had just imagined it.


    ¡°Will he be fine?¡± Ark asked.


    Dorthna shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t give you the answer if you don¡¯t look at me, kiddo.¡±


    Ark hesitated, standing in place for a while longer. He was a stubborn child when compared to Melmarc.


    When Dorthna thought Ark wouldn¡¯t turn, Ark did. He had tears running down his eyes. But they didn¡¯t stop him. He looked at Dorthna and met his eyes.


    ¡°Will he be fine?¡±


    Dorthna smiled. ¡°Nothing a good rest won¡¯t fix.¡±


    Ark¡¯s gaze went downwards and Dorthna followed it. Both pairs of eyes settled on Melmarc¡¯s badly twisted leg and Dorthna grimaced.


    ¡°Trust me, it¡¯s not as bad as it looks,¡± he said in a hurry. ¡°I¡¯ve got a spell to fix that right up.¡±


    Ark nodded, looking away from the leg. But rather than look away completely, he returned his eyes to Dorthna.


    Sometimes being stubborn had its perks.


    Dorthna carried Melmarc the rest of the way, into his room, and onto his bed. The demon, Spitfire, watched him drop Melmarc. When he moved to tuck Melmarc in as he¡¯d often done with him and his siblings when they were younger, he paused.


    Even now, with all their size and ability to string words and sentences together, they still felt like nothing but children in his eyes.


    He smiled softly. You¡¯ve grown soft.


    The children were no longer children. But what was a measly decade or two in the face of the wider cosmos. Dorthna had probably seen more than any of them ever could. He had seen worlds die, watched world be given birth. He had once been a myth in the eyes of the now mythical observers. He had fought devils and made angels kneel.


    He had lived. A gentle hand moved to his side, the first place he had felt pain since being cursed to becoming nothing more than a mere [Mage], and a weak one at that.


    His hand flattened against his side. His mind tried to recall the feeling of discomfort. It touched on the edges of a mere whisker of it.


    Oh, he had lived.


    His smile softened some more, grew fond as he watched Melmarc¡¯s blood-stained face. So, no matter what happened, no matter how old the children of War and Madness grew, weathered and frail and strong and powerful, it mattered not. They would always be children to him.


    Even if they were often annoying children.


    He covered Melmarc with his duvet and tucked him in.


    Can you tell me about the star of Tereton?


    It was a question from many years ago. A request. It was the type of bedtime story Melmarc would always ask for. Tales of worlds beyond the stars. Worlds hidden behind portals. Of Impdits and Nenits. Of half-men and fallen gods.


    And Dorthna would always tell him stories. He would fill a child¡¯s mind with words of boring tales and complex worlds with complex designs until he fell asleep. And he would take those times to reminisce on the life he had lived.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he found himself saying to the unconscious child. ¡°Thank you for giving me hope.¡±


    It had been very little, almost nonexistent. But it had been there. The whisper of pain. The promise of possibilities.


    Dorthna got up and walked out of the room, giving Spitfire a scratch behind the ear as he left. The demon shivered at the action as surprised by it as Dorthna was.


    Outside, Ark stood as if protecting the room from intruders.


    ¡°How is he?¡± he asked when Dorthna came out.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Dorthna told him. ¡°I¡¯ll heal his injuries when he wakes up.¡±


    Ark turned his gaze to the ground. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Tar¡¯arkna.¡± Dorthna placed his hand on Ark¡¯s shoulder, forcing the boy to look at him. ¡°When you show gratitude, you do it with a grateful smile on your face, and you look the person in the eye so that they know you are not ashamed of it.¡±


    It took a moment, but Ark obeyed. Rheumy eyes met Dorthna¡¯s.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°You¡¯re welcome. Just remember that you tried to help. You did nothing wrong.¡±


    With those words, Dorthna went down the stairs. Only when he got to the bottom and saw the mess waiting for him in the living room did he stop.


    ¡°Ark,¡± he called up.


    ¡°Uncle?¡±


    ¡°Get your ass down here. we have a mess to clean up.¡±


    Cleaning was a quiet task. Ark seemed to take it as some form of punishment for what he did and Dorthna allowed him do so. Sometimes, to make a person feel forgiven for a wrong they did or thought they had done, convincing them that it was fine was not the answer. Sometimes, making them feel like they were being punished for it was the answer.


    So Ark took his punishment quietly and with a sad look on his face.


    As for Dorthna, he doubted he¡¯d ever stopped smiling. Each time he cleaned a specific section, he touched his side. It was a reminder of the gift this family had given him through Melmarc.


    After countless years of throwing himself of skyscrapers and getting into meaningless fights with meaningless opponents since his curse, he had finally felt something akin to pain.


    Melmarc had granted him the gift of possibility. It was minute and insignificant in the larger scale of things, but it was something in a world where he had had nothing. It was a potential promise.


    If he could not lift the curse placed on him, then that was fine. Because there was a new possibility. A possibility that could one day become a certainty.


    Maybe not today or tomorrow or a year from now. But some day.


    The thought of it brought calmness to his mind. For that, he had only one response.


    Thank you, Melmarc Jay Lockwood.


    In a vast cosmos as wide as existence, a boy not even twenty had been the one to give him hope. The gift of possibility.


    The possibility of death.


    ¡­


    Elijah sat in his place at the table. He sat in his capacity as an Oath. The Oath of Desolation.


    After the Oath of Life¡¯s story about what had happened to one of the previous generations of Oaths a few days ago, he had chosen the chair he sat on intentionally. Why? Because it was directly opposite that of the Oath of Madness.


    Today the man didn¡¯t play with pens, he played a video game on a handheld console. A man with a broken mind and too much power. Only two Oaths had survived the battle against the Oath of Madness that had killed her entire generation of Oaths.


    War and Desolation.


    He was new, but Elijah knew what he had to do. He was the only one with the promise of achieving it. No one knew it better than he did.


    Elijah Olsen, the Oath of Desolation, was going to save the Oaths.


    He was going to kill Madness.

 ONE HUNDRED AND NINE: Heavens Gate

    The other Oaths trooped into the room slowly. Each Oath took their time. They did not come in side by side or in some kind of chaotic line. They came in one after the other with almost a thirty-minute delay between each Oath¡¯s arrival.


    Inevitability and Shield entered together, walking side by side, held in some conversation Desolation couldn¡¯t hear. Not that he was trying to.


    They took their seats, dressed casually, like people in their living room. Then again, so was almost all the Oaths in attendance. Only the new Oaths dressed as if they were attending something that required some level of decorum.


    Madness and his wife were the last. They walked in with the massive man playing video games on a handheld console. With his size, the device was almost invisible in his hands. Never looking up from his console, Madness walked into the room as if he had the entire layout inside his mind.


    From the first meeting it was clear that the Oath¡¯s wife did not like the Oath of Life so Desolation was left in utter confusion when she strolled right up to the old man and sat next to him. Madness took the chair next to her, disposing himself into it with a childlike reckless abandon.


    The woman turned and gave Life a friendly smile.


    What the hell happened in the past three days? Desolation wondered, confused.


    He¡¯d spent his last three days trying to make friends and had come to a simple understanding. First was that Pain didn¡¯t have any friends and didn¡¯t like any friends. He was also always a man in pain. Desolation had no idea why someone would choose to be the Oath of Pain. God knew he could never see himself wanting power to the point of living in constant pain.


    Grace was kind but she was more like a customer service officer or a home room teacher for children below the age of seven. Desolation wasn¡¯t entirely sure how to put it. But if he was to try, he would say that she wasn¡¯t kind, she was polite. Annoyingly polite. She was the kind of person that would forgive you because you didn¡¯t know better.


    Desolation found people like that to be a little irksome. Grace was not irksome.


    Fear was a bit of an irritation to him. She wasn¡¯t a bad person, not by a long shot. If anything, she was nice and possessed an adequate level of politeness, but mostly cautious. Desolation just didn¡¯t like how she made him feel. The brief time he spent around her was spent with her giving him odd looks.


    He didn¡¯t think it was intentional, though. There was just something in the way she had looked at him no matter what he said. As if he was hiding something and she was trying to fish out what it was. Perhaps if she looked long enough, she would¡¯ve found it.


    Desolation knew with a childlike certainty that he didn¡¯t want her finding whatever it was that she wanted to find.


    Life hadn¡¯t stayed in the same building, so he hadn¡¯t gotten to see the old man. Although, there was a part of him that felt like nothing good would¡¯ve come from visiting the old man.


    Shield was never in her room the two times he visited.


    Inevitability attended to him at the door, not letting him into his room. Only a few minutes talking with Inevitability showed Desolation why he led the group. He had a leader¡¯s aura to him. Speaking with clear and concise words, he never insinuated anything. There was just something that came with talking to the man that had you feeling as if he would lead you to where you have to be.


    Inevitability allowed him to guide the conversation, steering him away from discussions surrounding Madness or his wife. As for discussions regarding the other Oaths and their relationships with each other, he assured him that as argumentative and discordant as the other Oaths felt, they meant well.


    As for if all the Oaths alive were present, the answer had been simple. No. There were Oaths out there in the world that never attended the meetings. The Oath of Pride and the Oath of Greed were two Oaths that never attended. Inevitability went the extra mile to point out that Greed was actively known to not be good. In fact, there was a task force actively hunting him since he was a powerful threat to humanity.


    Desolation wasn¡¯t sure how exactly to feel about that.


    On the chairs opposite him, Life, Madness and Madness¡¯ wife sat quietly. Madness¡¯ wife had her attention on the entire room, and part of it on Madness. Madness played on his console that had no sound, and Life kept pointing things out on the video game without saying a word. He was like a new dog owner, trying to associate with the dog while being equally terrified by the fact that the dog could bite him at any time.


    Life was currently living proof that even if Madness did not intend on it, he was a menace. Unfortunately, it was clear that Madness intended on it, and his wife reveled in it. Again, not for the first time, Desolation found himself wondering why they even let the woman in.


    ¡°I hope everyone had a restful stay these past few days,¡± Inevitability said, starting the meeting.


    Fear raised a polite hand. ¡°Am I the only one that got the notification a few days ago? I thought it was an Oath thing.¡±


    Desolation said nothing, keeping his eyes on everyone present. Fear had not been the only one to get a notification. Even his interface had given him a notification. Something about a potential world level threat, a request for help, and a warning to stay away.


    It had freaked him out for the five minutes he¡¯d had it.


    Inevitability looked around, eyeing every Oath at the meeting. ¡°I got the notification, too,¡± he said. ¡°The one about the pure mana overload?¡±


    Fear nodded.


    ¡°I have informed the necessary people,¡± he said. ¡°And I promise you that an investigation is already being conducted as regards the notification.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure they¡¯re going to find anything?¡± Pain asked.


    ¡°He has a point,¡± Fear said before Inevitability could answer. ¡°It didn¡¯t even take up to five minutes before I got the second notification about the threat being handled. Who handles world class threats? Has there ever been a world class threat before?¡±


    Inevitability, Shield, Grace, Life, Pain, and Madness¡¯ wife turned crestfallen all of a sudden. There was a deep solemnity on their faces, like people in mourning.


    ¡°Over two decades ago,¡± Inevitability said, tone sad. ¡°We had one over two decades ago.¡±


    Fear looked around. She wasn¡¯t the only one confused. Desolation and Language were also confused. Chances were that it was on account of the three of them being new to the Oath-hood.


    What happened over two decades ago?


    ¡°What happened over two decades ago?¡± Language asked, pulling the words right out of Desolation¡¯s head.


    ¡°There was a portal,¡± Shield said.


    ¡°And they sent all of us into it,¡± Pain added, seeming annoyed.


    Language looked at the old Oaths. ¡°All of you?¡±


    Who had the power to send all the Oaths out into a portal? Was Inevitability in greater control than they made it seem.


    ¡°Not all of us,¡± Inevitability answered. ¡°Pride had not joined. Neither had Shield.¡±


    Desolation and the two other new Oaths turned Shield. Fear squinted as if looking for something.


    ¡°Why?¡± Language asked.


    ¡°Because I am a Shield,¡± the Oath of Shield answered. ¡°A shield is not an offensive weapon. It is a defensive one. Since taking up my Oath, I have not been allowed into portals. On the flip side, I am stronger during a Chaos Run since I gain strength in the presence of an [Intruder].¡±


    Desolation hadn¡¯t known that.


    ¡°So how did you all agree on that?¡± Language asked. ¡°No offense but I was present at the last meeting. Sounds to me like none of you can ever come to an agreement over anything, talk less of going into a portal as a team.¡±


    ¡°Each Oath present at this table has a team of their own,¡± Life said, tossing his hat in the conversation, metaphorically speaking. ¡°This is something of a council of Oaths and each Oath is a powerhouse.¡±


    Shield gave him a look as if she was surprised to learn that he knew what he knew.


    Unbothered by her expression, Life continued. ¡°Inevitability has his own company¡ªof sorts¡ªand his own team of high ranked Gifted who follow him into portals that he goes into. Portals that high ranked Delvers cannot go into without almost certainly losing their lives.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡­ what? Sent in your teams?¡± Fear asked.


    ¡°It didn¡¯t need a conversation,¡± Pain said. There was no annoyance in his voice, only pain and solemnity. ¡°Just like the notification you received, we all received a notification when the portal appeared. With awareness of what direction it was coming from.¡±


    ¡°Portals are like injuries on a body to Oaths,¡± Inevitability pointed out. ¡°Each portal is like a small cut or pinprick. If you¡¯ve ever gone out to have fun only to take a shower in the morning and find out that you got an inconsequential injury somewhere you can only feel when water touches it, then you know how a low rank portal appearing feels like to us Oaths.¡±


    ¡°But without the pain?¡± Language asked. It was clear that she had no plans of feeling pain.


    Grace shook her head. ¡°Only Pain feels the pain. The rest of us are just vaguely aware of it. Almost the same way Madness is probably, maybe, vaguely aware of us.¡±


    ¡°But that portal was different,¡± Life said with a sad look. ¡°Everyone was aware of where it was.¡±


    ¡°The fuck are you sad about?¡± Pain snapped at him. ¡°You weren¡¯t even there.¡±


    Life looked into his eyes with something Desolation couldn¡¯t quite place in his eyes. ¡°But I was aware of the cost. You know just as well as I do what it feels like when we die.¡±


    Pain looked like he had something to say but didn¡¯t. Something passed between the both of them, like a shared understanding between enemies.


    Desolation had no idea what they were talking about.


    ¡°We all came together to face the threat,¡± Grace said. ¡°Portals are categorized by ranks but we knew that there was no one but us that could handle the portal.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Language asked.


    Desolation continued to hold his tongue. He had a plan, and his plan involved being as forgettable as possible for whatever period of time the meeting was to go on for. He needed to be perceived as unimportant and harmless.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    He didn¡¯t need to be perceived as Desolation right now. What he needed was to be perceived as desolate.


    ¡°Because the portal wasn¡¯t ranked,¡± Grace said.


    Desolation had never heard of a portal without a rank. Every portal had a rank.


    ¡°This one,¡± Grace continued, ¡°was just classified. Our interfaces called it a world threat.¡±


    Fear grimaced. ¡°How many Delvers died in it before you all went in?¡±


    ¡°None,¡± Inevitability answered. ¡°We have an understanding with all the governments of the world. Portals, S-rank and above, are always brought to our attention before rights to delving into it are auctioned to whatever Delving company wishes to own them.¡±


    Desolation was a little surprised. ¡°And they comply?¡± he asked, unable to stop himself. ¡°Just like that?¡±


    ¡°Uhuh,¡± Grace replied. ¡°They¡¯d be stupid not to. The Oaths, in their own way, are stronger than almost any S-rank you pit us against.¡±


    ¡°Almost?¡±


    ¡°Almost,¡± Life echoed. ¡°Only a fool who has not fought against every single man in the world would claim to be stronger than every single man in the world.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Life,¡± Grace said politely. She was the first Oath Desolation was hearing use those words since coming to Nigeria. ¡°As I was saying,¡± she continued, returning her attention to him. ¡°There is almost no government that is not aware of just how strong we are. So, if you think about it, only a foolish government would not make that agreement with us.¡±


    And Desolation thought about it. He did not need to think for long. He was Desolation and saw the desolation that could come.


    ¡°If they decide to hide portals for whatever reason,¡± he said, coming to an understanding, ¡°then we could all simply say no when a portal appears that they need our help with.¡±


    ¡°If reason does not guide them,¡± Fear said simply. ¡°Then fear will.¡±


    ¡°So, the country that had this gate reached out to you all?¡± Language asked.


    ¡°They mostly reach out to Inevitability,¡± Shield answered. ¡°He is something of the face of the Oaths. But no, in that case they reached out to Pain. It happened in his country, after all. He was the first to see the portal.¡±


    ¡°Then he reached out to Inevitability who reached out to the others through the message that you all received inviting you to come here,¡± Grace said. ¡°We saw the portal and confirmed how dangerous it was.¡±


    ¡°Apart from Shield¡ª¡± Inevitability began.


    ¡°¡ªAnd Life,¡± Pain added with some venom in his voice.


    ¡°¡ªWe all went in,¡± Inevitability finished. ¡°The outcome was less than favorable.¡±


    Pain snorted in derision. ¡°Less than favorable? That¡¯s a nice way to put it.¡±


    ¡°Pain,¡± Grace said kindly, gently. ¡°Not now.¡±


    ¡°Not now?¡± Pain hissed. ¡°We lost more than half our numbers to that Portal. And he belittles it all the way to ¡®Less than favorable.¡¯ There was nothing less than favorable about it.¡± His voice got caught in his throat and he choked on his words. A tear slipped from his eye, running down his cheek. "It was a bloody massacre."


    Madness¡¯ wife looked at him with a touch of pity or understanding or sadness. Desolation wasn¡¯t sure which one it was.


    ¡°When we closed the portal and got out,¡± Inevitability continued. ¡°We gave portals like that a designation.¡±


    Fear¡¯s eyes widened in, unsurprisingly, fear. ¡°There are portals like that turning up left and right?¡±


    Inevitability shook his head. ¡°No. We haven¡¯t seen another of its kind since it¡¯s appearance. Thank God for that.¡±


    ¡°We were never ready for a named portal,¡± Life said. ¡°My entire life, I had never come across one. We were never ready.¡±


    ¡°A named portal?¡± Desolation said, latching onto it.


    Life nodded. ¡°Portals that don¡¯t have ranks. Instead, they have names.¡±


    ¡°What was the name of that one?¡± Language asked.


    Life looked at her and Desolation could see a shadow of the desolation he must have felt when the portal had appeared. It had terrified the man.


    When he spoke, the desolation was also in his voice.


    ¡°Heaven¡¯s Gate.¡±


    ¡°And the wrongest thing was waiting for us,¡± Pain muttered with some finality in his voice.


    ¡°There was nothing heavenly in there,¡± Shield muttered.


    Grace shrugged. ¡°The angels were angelic enough in my opinion. Definitely heavenly.¡±


    Surprisingly, it got a snort out of Inevitability. ¡°Only because they were polite to you.¡±


    ¡°They tried to kill the rest of us the moment we told them we couldn¡¯t leave without closing the portal,¡± Pain muttered.


    ¡°Secrecy was so mad when he found out that they were all hiding something as a collective,¡± Inevitability said with a touch of nostalgia in his voice. A small smile touched his lips.


    ¡°We should¡¯ve just left it alone,¡± Pain muttered with a touch of anger. ¡°I swear we brought it on ourselves.¡±


    ¡°It was the only way to clear the portal,¡± Grace said. ¡°There was nothing we could¡¯ve done about it.¡±


    ¡°Was it?¡± he asked her. ¡°Was it really? The quest only got the update when Secrecy said the angels were hiding something from us.¡±


    Fear looked at Desolation, then Language. ¡°Am I the only one who¡¯s finding it difficult to get past the part where they are talking about fighting against angels?¡±


    Desolation shook his head. Language, too.


    ¡°On the bright side,¡± Language offered, ¡°they didn¡¯t go to hell.¡±


    ¡°That bastard could¡¯ve been the devil and I¡¯d still rather have gone to hell.¡± Pain shuddered visibly. ¡°Those green eyes. That look that said we were unimportant. That casual dismissive sense of superiority.¡±


    Desolation wasn¡¯t sure if he was imagining it or not, but he could¡¯ve sworn that he caught a faint smile on Madness¡¯ lips. Was it the game or Pain¡¯s words.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have freed him,¡± Shield said.


    Inevitability shook his head in disagreement. ¡°That ended up being the quest. It was a secret bonus objective. You know how good Secrecy was at getting one of those. The moment we freed him, we got a quest cleared notification.¡±


    ¡°Then an emergency quest,¡± Grace said with pain in her eyes. ¡°Sometimes I have nightmares about it. I can still remember the emergency quest. Word for word.¡±


    ¡°Defeat the founder, vanquish the first [Namer],¡± Inevitability said, as if reading the words from memory.


    ¡°Did you ever find out what he was the founder of?¡± Language asked.


    Inevitability, Pain and Grace shook their heads.


    ¡°What of what a [Namer] is?¡± she asked. ¡°Is it like a class or something?¡±


    ¡°No idea.¡± Inevitability sighed. ¡°We never got to confirm it. When we got back, I put in a mandatory request to all the governments. If anyone ever turned up with the [Namer] class, we were to be informed of it. More than twenty years later and we still haven¡¯t gotten any update.¡±


    Language didn¡¯t look so crestfallen. If anything, she had other interests. ¡°How did you win the fight?¡±


    Pain shot her an incredulous look. ¡°Win?¡±


    ¡°You said you lost a few Oaths and closed the portal.¡± She looked at him, confused. ¡°I assumed you won the fight.¡±


    She was answered with a simple sentence from the most unexpected Oath.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t win,¡± Madness said, never taking his attention from his video game. His voice was a deep baritone. A rumble that Desolation felt in his chest.


    The Oath said nothing more.


    Language waited a little longer, hoping that he would use more words, explain. Madness did not.


    She looked at Inevitability. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°We fought with everything we had,¡± Inevitability said in explanation. ¡°But nothing we did to him seemed to work. Skills just bounced off him or shattered against him. He didn¡¯t even seem to care for Grace¡¯s presence. He is the first and only intelligent being that I¡¯ve seen that didn¡¯t show even an ounce of politeness towards Grace.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he had any politeness to give,¡± Grace said.


    ¡°In the end, we gave up on skills and just went all in,¡± Inevitability continued. ¡°Fists and guns and everything we had. Funny enough, the angels didn¡¯t even come to our aid or to interrupt us. The moment we freed their prisoner they just disappeared as if they were scared of him.¡±


    ¡°Never a good idea to fight something angels are afraid of,¡± Life muttered under his breath.


    ¡°It was only when Madness held him down and started pounding away that we survived.¡± Inevitability looked at the unbothered Oath with a touch of gratitude. ¡°He sacrificed himself so that we could escape. How he managed to make it out in time is beyond us.¡±


    Desolation stared at Madness, confused. He¡¯d just developed a newfound appreciation for the Oath. It wasn¡¯t respect, not really. It was an understanding of the man¡¯s strength. It told him that when he finally made a move, he would have to go all out from the start.


    It is necessary, he told himself. Madness was not good or bad. He was unstable. You did not leave a nuclear weapon in the hands of a child. Things would not end well.


    ¡°How many Oaths were lost?¡± Fear asked, addressing the subject that everyone had been ignoring.


    ¡°Ten,¡± Pain answered. ¡°And only because he seemed to be satisfied with the number. He stopped actively trying to kill us when the tenth Oath died.¡±


    Fear winced. ¡°It must¡¯ve been tough. Sorry for your loss.¡±


    All the old Oaths present nodded in acceptance, even Madness¡¯ wife. Even though she hadn¡¯t been a part of the fight, Desolation could understand how she could share in the pain. If Madness was always bringing her along with him for every meeting, then she would¡¯ve known the other Oaths. They would¡¯ve at least been something of friends to her.


    Regardless, they would have to change a few things. They couldn¡¯t grant a civilian a place amongst them just because of favoritism. He didn¡¯t think it was right.


    Is that really what you think the problem is? He asked himself, knowing that it was not.


    In truth, he was just alienating Madness and his wife in his mind, making them out to not belong. It would make what he planned on doing to the Oath easier to stomach. He was not a bad guy, but sometimes less than acceptable things had to be done for the greater good.


    ¡°So, in summary, we shouldn¡¯t be worried about the notification we got a few days ago?¡± Fear asked, bringing them back to what had started this conversation.


    ¡°Like I said before, an investigative team has been sent out,¡± Inevitability answered. ¡°Seeing as all of us also got the notification saying that the threat has been handled, we can all put it from our minds. The interface never lies.¡±


    Desolation really hoped that was true. He¡¯d never been in a situation where his interface had given him a false piece of information, but he wasn¡¯t one to blindly trust anything he was given, even if it was his own interface.


    Inevitability looked at everyone. Confirming that the conversation was done, he said, ¡°Now that we¡¯ve addressed that, let¡¯s finish up with the real reason we are¡ª¡±


    The sound of Fear taking in a very deep breath interrupted his words and everyone turned to look at her. She met their gazes with an apologetic one.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s just that the fear everybody was displaying was just too much. I couldn¡¯t just ignore it. It¡¯s kind of my thing. If it¡¯s any consolation, Madness isn¡¯t scared. His wife is, though.¡±


    Of course his wife was. A being that was capable of killing ten Oaths in a fight terrified Desolation, and he was an Oath.


    Now that he thought about it, he wondered what the woman¡¯s class was. Was she going to be a problem when he went after her husband? Was he going to be able to subdue her without killing her?


    A well placed blow should incapacitate her. But what if he had to kill her?


    Desolation didn¡¯t like the direction of his thought. The acceptance of collateral damage in achieving your goal was the first step to going down the wrong path. Killing Madness was necessary, but no matter how much of a problem his wife could be, Desolation couldn¡¯t find a justification for killing her.


    All things must come to an end.


    It was a simple thought, straight forward.


    When you bring the end, everything ends.


    Desolation winced as the thoughts bubbled inside his head. They came from a part of his mind that he didn¡¯t understand. It was as if he was talking to himself, but he was not in control of his own words. They were his ideas, just ideas that he could not suppress.


    Just because you were killing the leader of a terrorist organization, it did not mean you had to kill all the terrorists. You could always arrest those who surrendered.


    All things come to an end.


    This didn¡¯t always happen, but it happened enough times. And the thoughts had no choice of appearance. It popped up when thinking about a fight as easily as it popped up when he didn¡¯t want to finish the food on his plate. Desolation had never left food on his plate since he¡¯d become desolation.


    Everything had to be left desolate. Even a plate of food.


    Desolation settled his gaze on Madness. This time, his wife was a part of it. One was a necessity. The other was avoidable, but would he avoid it?


    Nothing had changed. Madness still had to die.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Inevitability said, resuming whatever he¡¯d been saying before Fear had interrupted him as he turned to Madness¡¯ wife. ¡°It is time to finalize a decision on the [August Intruder].¡±


    ¡°I already said that they were not a threat,¡± the woman said with a tired sigh.


    But your husband is, Desolation thought. Your husband is.


    ¡°He might not be a threat,¡± Inevitability said. ¡°But he is now a powerhouse. As such, he needs to be treated and handled as such. His own protection detail. His own team of S-class Delvers. I assume he would need to enter portals. If he is inexperienced, he will need to be taught and trained. And if he is anything like the Oaths, he will need to be taught control.¡±


    Grace raised her hand. ¡°I think I should be a part of anything that has to do with meeting him.¡±


    Inevitability gave it a momentary thought before nodding. ¡°You have proven to be the best at being around Oaths, so I don¡¯t see why not.¡±


    A disgusted smile touched Madness¡¯ wife¡¯s lips and her hand balled into a fist on the table.


    ¡°You all have not changed,¡± she said with a very menacing voice. ¡°Who has led any of you to believe that you get to meet the [August Intruder] without my permission?¡±


    Arrogant, Desolation thought. She was feeding off of the caution everyone present had towards her husband.


    ¡°Aurora, let¡¯s be reasonable about this,¡± Inevitable said kindly. ¡°I understand your anger with Shield but this is a matter of the safety of humanity.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± Madness¡¯ wife, Aurora, said. ¡°And I¡¯m making this decision for the safety of humanity. If anything, a normal person we can trust should be the one handling it.¡±


    ¡°Like you?¡± Pain spat. ¡°I can¡¯t find myself trusting you.¡±


    ¡°And with all due respect,¡± Desolation added. ¡°You¡¯re not an Oath.¡±


    Aurora cocked a brow at him as if she was surprised to find a child speaking at the adult¡¯s table.


    ¡°I might have a solution to that,¡± Life interrupted, raising his hand.


    All eyes settled on him.


    ¡°A solution?¡± Grace asked.


    Life nodded. ¡°If you all need someone powerful but also understanding of the stakes and is also completely normal and not really Oath-like, I know just the person.¡±


    ¡°None of us trust you just yet, Life,¡± Inevitability said. ¡°It can¡¯t be you.¡±


    Life laughed in good nature. ¡°God I¡¯m as cooked in the head as the lot of you. I was talking about someone else. Another Oath.¡±


    Now he definitely had everyone¡¯s attention.


    ¡°There is an Oath that is normal that we don¡¯t know about?¡± Shield asked.


    Life nodded.


    ¡°And you know about this Oath?¡± she said. ¡°You know about this Oath that is normal that nobody else at this table knows about?¡±


    ¡°I know about a lot of things that you all don¡¯t know about, child,¡± Life informed her. ¡°And yes, that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about.¡±


    Shield opened her mouth to say more but Inevitability silenced her with a polite gesture.


    ¡°And what Oath is this?¡± he asked.


    Life gave what Desolation was now beginning to think of as his trademark grin. Annoying and pretentiously all knowing. He was really beginning to dislike the man. Not enough to want to kill him, though.


    With the grin, Life gave his answer.


    ¡°The Oath of Humanity.¡±

 ONE HUNDRED AND TEN: Pain

    Callum hated his Oath.


    In truth, ¡®hate¡¯ was probably too strong a word. For the sake of more precision, Callum didn¡¯t like his Oath. Left with the choice of another Oath, he would take it in a heartbeat. But no such choice had ever been offered to him. No other choice would ever be offered to him.


    Also, as much as he would rather have another Oath than Pain, there was no denying that his Oath had helped him. It had come to him in a time when he had been nothing but a broken man. A Delver simply waiting for that one last Delve to end his life.


    Pain, as his therapist back in his time before Oath-hood liked to tell him, manifested itself in different ways. It was not just in his constantly rotting lung and liver. It was not just in the trauma that with the survivor¡¯s guilt of being the only one to come out alive after facing a poisonous dragon. It was there in the loss.


    From the day of his birth, Callum had only known loss. Childbirth had claimed his mother. At seven years of age, his father had found love in another woman. Callum remembered passing this information on to his therapist only to find the man hold a touch of sadness at the news. That was when Callum had truly understood the dislike turned towards stepmothers. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he didn¡¯t seem to care. Other mothers were not his stepmother.


    And he made sure his therapist had been aware of it.


    She had been kind, and loving, and beautiful. She had been a mother. She had given his father a daughter, then another son. Thanks to her, Callum had learnt the love of siblings. At eleven his sister died, drowned during swimming lessons. How? No one truly knew. Her instructor was held accountable for it, but Callum never bothered to find out what became of the woman. All he knew was the crushing pain of loss.


    His sister, in her beauty and innocence, had not grown to see what life had to offer. Even at eleven, he had understood that.


    At sixteen, he¡¯d lost his younger brother to a car accident. His stepmother had been driving. It was all Callum knew of what had happened. There was more to the story, enough for his father constantly offering reassurances to his stepmother during her recovery days in the hospital.


    It¡¯s not your fault.


    Callum couldn¡¯t count how many times he¡¯d heard those words uttered. Time and time again. Until they¡¯d plagued his dreams. It was not her fault. His father may or may not have been right about that. The one thing he was right about, however, was that no one had been blaming her.


    His stepmother had not seen it that way, though. As time passed, her love waned until it was nothing but a shadow of what it had once been. She made meals not because she was taking care of the people she loved but because it was her duty. Her smiles were always polite, false. She was present for conversations but not an active part of them.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Callum had asked his father once on the emptiness of his stepmother.


    His father¡¯s response had been a defeated shake of his head. A telling sign of a man who had given up, a man who did not know what to do.


    ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to be saved, Cal,¡± his father had said in the end, eyes red and rheumy with no falling tears. ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to be saved.¡±


    Within a year of his brother¡¯s passing, Callum had woken up one day to find his father seated at the dining table. He¡¯d looked his father in the eye and known without being told that his stepmother was gone. She had woken up that morning, written a note, and simply disappeared. She hadn¡¯t even taken anything with her. Just herself and the clothes on her back.


    When Callum became Gifted, he¡¯d been more than happy to go off into a Gifted school. In the United States, they had the big five. In Scotland they had the big three. Callum, in his time in his Gifted school, had singlehandedly raised it to becoming one of the big three. He¡¯d led them to victory in the country school tournaments, the continental school tournament, and had led them to fourth place in the world tournament. Fourth place didn¡¯t sound like a big deal until you thought about the fact that the school had never even qualified for the continental tournament since its creation.


    Sometimes Callum missed his school days. There had been little pain during those times.


    Little politics, too, he thought, sitting among the other Oaths.


    ¡°What the hell is an Oath of Humanity?¡± Language asked, addressing Life¡¯s most recent words.


    Pain didn¡¯t like Life. He was an old man that talked far too much and liked to think of himself as cryptic when he was more of a rambler who simply knew too much.


    ¡°Is there even such a thing?¡± Fear, another of the new Oaths, asked. ¡°You¡¯d think there wouldn¡¯t be.¡±


    Life looked as smug as he always did, grinning like an old man who refused to accept that he was old. ¡°The Oath of Humanity exists. A rare Oath, if I must say so myself. In the six generations he¡¯s only turned up once. This one would be the second.¡±


    Inevitability had one of his calculating frowns on his face. Cooking up something was his task, and Callum could bet a small percentage of his pain that the Oath was about to serve whatever he was cooking up.


    ¡°If he¡¯s anything like us, I doubt it will matter,¡± Inevitability said finally.


    ¡°He¡¯s not,¡± Life added in a hurry. ¡°I already told you that.¡±


    ¡°And what makes you so sure?¡± Shield asked. ¡°Why should we take your word for it?¡±


    Life shrugged, nonchalant. ¡°Because he¡¯s an Oath?¡±


    Desolation looked around. ¡°I cannot say I get it.¡± When everyone looked at him, he hurried to add: ¡°Not completely. I mean, I get it, but I feel like I¡¯m missing something.¡±


    Life gestured to him. ¡°You are the Oath of Desolation. You find yourself leaning in the direction of desolation. It is who you are, how you are. You are not evil, and you do not mean bad, but you see the necessity of desolation. As such, your behavior will be more prone towards the concept of desolation. Mostly towards acts of desolation.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean I¡¯ll lean towards desolation?¡± Desolation asked, confused.


    New Oaths, Callum almost laughed. The pain in his lung didn¡¯t allow him, though. Always so confused when they find out what they really are.


    Callum remembered what that had felt like. Becoming the Oath of Pain had been¡­ worrying. Waking up one morning and suddenly understanding and accepting how the pain of his stepmother had led her to abandon him and his father had been a difficult thing to come to terms with. Understanding how every girl he¡¯d ever loved had left him because they were not able to live with the pain of a partner that was never emotionally available, a partner who treated them like a loss waiting to happen.


    It was tough coming to terms with the latter, understanding that by no intentions of his own he was the bad guy in all his relationships. The toxic one.


    ¡°It¡¯s the thing with becoming an Oath,¡± Inevitability said, explaining Life¡¯s words to Desolation. ¡°You only become an Oath after embodying a certain concept. You are desolation. If I¡¯m not mistaken, you¡¯ve had a lot of utter death and destruction in your life. Possibly with you as the destroyer.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± Life interrupted him with a raised hand. ¡°That¡¯s Destruction, not to be mistaken for Desolation. Similar, but not the same. It¡¯s a common misconception. There doesn¡¯t always have to be wanton destruction for there to be desolation.¡± He turned to Desolation. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, young man?¡±


    Desolation didn¡¯t seem to be paying him much attention. Instead, he looked lost in his thoughts.


    ¡°I always killed all the monsters I could find in the portals,¡± he said after a while as if it was completely normal. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what everyone does?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± Inevitability said, shaking his head along with everyone present.


    Pain certainly didn¡¯t go around killing all the monsters he could find. That would just risk the life of his teammates unnecessarily.


    ¡°Were you one of those solo Delvers?¡± Pain asked.


    Desolation shook his head. ¡°I was a part of a team.¡±


    ¡°What company?¡±


    ¡°Tarantula Inc,¡± Desolation answered.


    ¡°Where¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Australia.¡±


    That was surprising. Callum couldn¡¯t find an accent on the man. ¡°You don¡¯t sound Australian.¡±


    An angry line appeared on Desolation¡¯s forehead. ¡°And you¡¯d sound Scottish if you didn¡¯t sound like someone had a hand up your ass.¡±


    Callum would¡¯ve taken offense if he didn¡¯t know exactly how he sounded. He sounded like a man in excruciating pain. He always sounded like a man in excruciating pain because he was a man in excruciating pain.


    ¡°The point I¡¯m trying to make.¡± Life waved a hand frantically at the both of them to gain their attention and their silence. ¡°Is that Oaths are an embodiment of their Oaths. You, Desolation, are an embodiment of desolation, ergo, the Oath of humanity is an embodiment of what it means to be human. You can¡¯t find a human more human than the Oath of Humanity. Conceptually speaking, that is.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    That was a bad idea to Callum. Humans were naturally a mess. The most human being alive would be naturally a mess.


    He could see Aurora working the pieces in her head. Rejection was on the horizon, working its way from her brain to her lips. That was what people did not understand about her. Aurora did not bargain. War bargained. But not Aurora.


    Aurora was a selfish prick who cared nothing for anything or anyone but herself and hers. That was the reason Pain did not like her. He had nothing against the Oath of War. It was Aurora that was his problem.


    Anytime he was near her, he could feel her pain. She was¡ªhe hated to say it¡ªeerily like him. People had let Callum down in their own ways and he had grown from it, accepted his pain and¡­


    Once more, not for the first time, realization touched him. It was a gentle caress against his mind, a lover¡¯s attention given to a broken spouse who kept lashing out at the world.


    As expected, Aurora shook her head. ¡°Humans aren¡¯t good.¡±


    ¡°For the love of God!¡± Shield snapped. ¡°You¡¯re not even trying to bargain here. Give us an out!¡±


    Aurora lifted a very slow brow at Shield. She pointed a nasty finger at her. ¡°Give you an out?¡± There was venom in her voice.


    Callum felt a flash of pain from her. The kind of pain that came with fear and very close regret. The pain of almost losing because you weren¡¯t there.


    Being the Oath of Pain gave him access to all the pain. It didn¡¯t matter what kind it was. He felt it all. He took a deep calming breath, allowed the pain wash through him because it never washed over him.


    ¡°And why should I give you an out, Ruth?¡± Aurora continued. ¡°Why should I make anything easy for you?¡±


    ¡°Not her,¡± Inevitability said, stepping in quickly to diffuse the situation. He gestured at everyone in the room. ¡°Give us an out. Give the world a chance to survive whatever is to come.¡±


    Life moved very slowly. He did not get up. He tried not to make a sound. Gently, as if walking on glass, he inched his way onto another seat¡ªthe one next to him. Madness raised his head to look at him and he gave the Oath a sheepish smile.


    Madness¡¯ attention returned to his console and Life moved another seat over.


    ¡°And why would I give all of you a chance?¡± Aurora asked, focusing her attention on Inevitability.


    Callum winced as her pain flared. He could sense it, feel it. The nature of it was very close to his. Aurora had spent years living a life of pain, then she¡¯d buried it all, stuffed it all under whatever sense of joy and love she had attained. She hadn¡¯t dealt with her pain or let it go, she¡¯d simply suppressed it.


    Now it was flaring out. It was the kind of pain accumulated from others. Someone or some people had hurt her deeply. They had let her down so bad that she could not find a place in her heart to forgive them. It had left her untrusting of others. Except Madness.


    ¡°The world ends if we are not together,¡± Inevitability said. ¡°You know this.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Aurora agreed. ¡°But are we together, Inevitability? Are we?¡±


    Inevitability was silent for a while before he answered. ¡°We are trying to be, Aurora. Please let us be.¡±


    Madness¡¯ massive hand settled on Aurora¡¯s back. In his other hand, he tried to navigate his way around whatever game he was playing on his console. He didn¡¯t even look up from it. All the attention he had for his wife was a hand on her back.


    Aurora sucked in a deep breath, then let it out very slowly.


    ¡°I can pretend to understand where you¡¯re coming from, Inevitability,¡± she said, her voice containing some semblance of calm as the pain Callum felt from her slowly dwindled. ¡°I really can. But the problem here is that no one is trying to understand where I am coming from. Especially you and Shield.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to understand where you¡¯re coming from.¡± Life looked nonchalant and carefree. He was also now four seats away from Madness.


    She gave him a careful look but said nothing. Callum didn¡¯t feel any pain in the look she offered him but anyone with half a brain knew it was a warning that he was getting on her nerves.


    ¡°What happened was an unfortunate¡ª¡± Inevitability began only to be cut off by her raised hand.


    ¡°Do not dumb it down to unfortunate!¡± she snapped. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare!¡±


    There was the pain again. Callum could taste a hint of loss.


    There was pain in some kinds of anger, the pain of being led to a loss of control. The pain of weakness. In his years as an Oath, Callum had learned not to trust a person with no pain in their anger because such people were never in control. Such people rarely ever cared for anything. Such people set the world ablaze just to watch it burn.


    Shield¡¯s expression dimmed slightly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said in a subdued voice.


    Silence fell over the room once more. Aurora had flipped everything on its head. Now, she watched Shield, stared at her as if looking for something. Callum knew she would find it. Why? Because he had not felt the pain of remorse from Shield. Her apology existed for peace to reign.


    Aurora scoffed. ¡°Are you, though, Shield?¡±


    There it was. She had seen the absence of remorse. Everyone that knew Shield in the room knew the apology was for peace to reign. In fact, Shield had most likely only apologized because Inevitability had asked her to.


    Shield met Aurora¡¯s gaze. ¡°I did something wrong. I understand that.¡±


    ¡°But given the chance you would still do it again,¡± Aurora challenged her.


    ¡°I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Careful,¡± Aurora warned. ¡°My husband has not suddenly left the room.¡±


    The next words to come were from the person Callum had least expected it from. In fact, he doubted anyone expected it from the person.


    ¡°Is that some kind of a threat?¡± Desolation asked. He looked like a man who had once been a nerd with glasses and curly hair. He¡¯d grown out of the glasses and cut the curly hair into something more mature. But he hadn¡¯t outgrown the rounded face.


    All eyes settled on him.


    ¡°This is not the time, Desolation,¡± Inevitability said carefully. ¡°The last thing we need is whatever it is you¡¯re trying to do.¡±


    ¡°Is it not?¡± Desolation asked.


    There was something off about him. Callum couldn¡¯t sense any pain of anger. In the last meeting he¡¯d been sensing the pain that came with a sense of uselessness from the Oath but he¡¯d been sensing nothing the entirety of this meeting.


    A person only changed that much when faced with the same situation so soon if he had found his purpose. Now, he was challenging Aurora.


    What purpose do you think you¡¯ve found, Desolation?


    Inevitability shot him an angry glare. ¡°Not now, Desolation.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Desolation flared up, rising from his chair. ¡°Because she¡¯s married to Madness and we are all scared of him?¡±


    Pain sighed. ¡°I hate her more than you do, but you don¡¯t want to take that route.¡±


    ¡°We cannot truly say that Inevitability is leading if we¡¯re all scared of Madness, can we?¡± Desolation turned to address everyone. ¡°You are not a leader if you only lead when everyone is wary of someone else. Everything has a hierarchy.¡±


    Pain almost laughed. The boy had no idea how ironic it was. He was speaking of hierarchy while inadvertently trying to stage a coup. Funnier was the fact that he was speaking of hierarchy in front of the former Oath of War. No one established hierarchy more than her.


    ¡°The role of being the wife of an Oath does not give her the right to speak like she is our equal!¡± he finalized, a touch of a growl slipping into his voice.


    Pain looked at him then, really looked at Desolation. That was when he saw it. The pain was there now, new as it was. Desolation had begun with a purpose, calculated and ready to execute.


    Then he let the Oath in him swallow him up. All Oaths knew the feeling. It was that sense of being superior. That sense of being better.


    Aurora gave Desolation the same look a mother gives a child that hits puberty and suddenly begins to think that they are all grown up, that they can now talk back even when they are wrong. He was a boy barking against a mountain and asking it to move.


    He better pray he doesn¡¯t get Madness¡¯ attention.


    ¡°SILENCE!¡± Inevitability roared. ¡°You will not disrespect a former Oath!¡±


    Desolation froze where he was standing. Confusion marred his face. He looked from a still seated Aurora to Inevitability. Then he looked at the older Oaths as if seeking confirmation. No one gave him any real expression. Grace had only pity on her face.


    ¡°You¡¯ve messed up, kid,¡± Life said solemnly. ¡°Should¡¯ve kept your mouth shut.¡±


    Aurora raised a brow at him in the silence. ¡°Don¡¯t let that stop you, kid. You have a plan. Execute.¡±


    This time, Callum smiled. It was the Oath in him. Once upon a time, during their battle in Heaven¡¯s Gate, he had found himself in a similar quagmire. Standing against an [Angel] that was quite evidently stronger than him, he had hesitated.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let that stop you, Pain,¡± she had said to him even in that chaos. ¡°You have a plan. Execute.¡±


    Then she had backed his play. He hated her, but it did not mean that he did not respect her.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been watching you,¡± she said. Now she was rising to her feet. ¡°You want something. Come and get it.¡±


    Inevitability shook his head. ¡°Aurora please don¡¯t. You know what it means to be an Oath.¡±


    ¡°I also know what it means to be a [Dreadnaught].¡±


    ¡°[Dreadnaughts],¡± Desolation snorted, stepping onto the table and down into the space at its center. ¡°You always think you are unique. The strongest class. Always thinking that you are the only one.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. Her challenge stood, yet Callum could see that she wasn¡¯t going to take the boy seriously. But while he believed that she could hold her own, he found himself wondering if she really could.


    She was no longer an Oath, after all. And as new as Desolation was to being an Oath, he was still an Oath. Oaths were powerful, very much so. There was no known rank above an Oath. And her enemy was the Oath of Desolation.


    Still standing on the other side of the table, Aurora waited.


    ¡°A former Oath is no longer an Oath,¡± Desolation said. ¡°You do not belong here.¡±


    Aurora wasn¡¯t the slightest bit bothered. ¡°Then remove me from the premises.¡±


    ¡°Aurora, please, no,¡± Inevitability said. ¡°Not now.¡±


    Aurora chuckled in good faith, as if to say she wasn¡¯t going to go too far. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Inevitability. I¡¯ll be gen¡ª¡±


    Desolation held his hand out and a blast of fire like a fired cannon shot out of thin air. It was four feet tall and almost as wide.


    Pain¡¯s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. Desolation was already charging forward, following right behind the fireball. He¡¯d taken advantage of Aurora¡¯s decision and attacked first.


    But she wasn¡¯t his target. He was going after the oblivious Oath of Madness.


    Callum only had one response to that.


    What a fool.


    What happened next happened in the blink of an eye. The ball of fire exploded against the ceiling to the east side of the room and Aurora stood at the center of the table with fire in her eyes. Held up by the neck, Desolation dangled from her grip.


    ¡°How dare you?¡± she hissed, rage morphing every word.


    In his defense, Desolation showed no fear. The fact that Aurora had smacked his ball of fire aside, leapt over the table and snatched him up by the neck, did not seem to daunt him. Instead, he threw his legs forward, snatching Aurora in an attempt to execute an armbar.


    His arms locked in but he failed to pull Aurora down to the ground. She held him in place and Desolation arched his body, determined to execute the technique even held in the air.


    When it did not work, he opened his mouth in her direction. Aurora¡¯s eyes widened for the briefest moment in realization, but it was too late.


    Desolation rained fire down on her from his mouth like the flames of a dragon¡¯s breath. The wave of fire engulfed her.


    His skill gained him his freedom and Desolation fell from Aurora¡¯s hold, staggering back. Callum still saw fire in the Oath¡¯s eyes. Desolation did not consider the fight over even with the skills he had used.


    ¡°Elijah, no!¡± Inevitability called out. He moved to scale the table as well but stopped halfway through the action.


    Aurora stood in front of Desolation, still covered in the flames he¡¯d bathed her in. But there was a problem. Callum didn¡¯t know how many of the Oaths present could tell, but he couldn¡¯t feel any physical pain from Aurora. The little he felt was not worth considering as pain.


    But he could feel the pain of rage within her. Aurora had more than a lot of it to give. It was almost enough to power another Oath of pain. And she was burning it as fuel for what she was about to do.


    But that wasn¡¯t the reason Inevitability hadn¡¯t scaled the table. That reason lay elsewhere.


    In the seat beside the one Aurora had once occupied things were different.


    In the silence of the room and the crackling of flames as the fire died down on Aurora¡¯s body, a single action held the attention of all the Oaths as it happened.


    Desolation had done the one thing the older Oaths had since learned not to do. He had moved the mountain.


    Madness¡¯ eyes settled firmly on Desolation. For the first time since this meeting began, he was ignoring his video game.


    The Oath of Madness gave Desolation his undivided attention.


    Then he stood up.

 ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN: Between Dying And Being Killed

    Waiting could be fun depending on how imaginative your mind could be.


    Ark used to love waiting. He would dream up the most interesting worlds. With stories from Uncle Dorthna that sent him to bed of conquests and wars and rulers and chaos, he could wait for hours without losing his spunk. He would dream up worlds and wishes. In them, he would be a great conqueror, or a small-time soldier rising to the top only to be betrayed by the woman he loved. Poisoned with a kiss.


    Or his favorite¡ªa soldier who had reason to the position of power alongside Melmarc only to become a tyrant. In these ones, he was finally brought down. By his brother, no less.


    Ark could not deny the flare for unnecessary dramatics.


    Then he¡¯d waited with his brother dying in his arms as an intruder beat their mother within an inch of his life. He¡¯d waited as his mother died for the intruder to come for the lives of him and his brother. Then he had waited with his breath in his throat as the same intruder kept him safe from his friends. Then he had waited for someone to find him and his brother.


    The waiting never ended, and he had slowly learnt that no one was above running out of imaginations.


    Then he¡¯d waited every day, sleeping on a hospital couch waiting for his brother to wake up. Waited for his brother to be declared perfectly healthy. Then he had waited for his mother to come home. After a while waiting for his mother to come home had turned to waiting for someone to tell him that she was never coming back.


    Everything had been waiting for so long. Waiting and waiting and waiting. And the stakes had only grown higher with each passing moment.


    Then Ark had run out of imaginations to keep him company. In the end, there had only been nightmares. Nightmares of an intruder who¡¯d chosen not to take pity on his mother. Nightmares of an intruder who¡¯d taken pleasure in finding a child and killing him. Nightmares of a mother who never came home.


    So, yes, Ark used to enjoy waiting. But not anymore.


    ¡°So what? Uncle D put the fear of God in him?¡± Ninra asked.


    Her face filled up his entire phone screen so that he couldn¡¯t see her background or anything else around her if he was being honest. It was just the way she answered video calls from him for some reason. Well, not for some reason. She¡¯d allowed him to see her background and the friends present twice before and Ark hadn¡¯t hesitated to make fun of every and anything that he could.


    Ark nodded in response to Ninra. ¡°They broke a wall, too.¡±


    Ninra grimaced at the news. ¡°Mom¡¯s not going to like that. Which wall?¡±


    ¡°The one in the living room that leads to the kitchen.¡± He could still recall his surprise when he had heard the sound of the wall breaking.


    He hadn¡¯t seen it, though.


    ¡°Did the spell take care of it?¡± Ninra asked.


    Ark nodded before realizing what she¡¯d said and pausing. ¡°How did you know about the spell?¡±


    Ninra executed the trademark Lockwood single brow raise as if she¡¯d been doing it from the womb. It was so pristine that Ark could¡¯ve sworn he heard the ¡®duh¡¯ in it.


    ¡°Ark, I doubt there¡¯s anything in that house I don¡¯t know about,¡± she told him dryly. ¡°I was even present for most of the spells when Uncle D was casting them.¡±


    Ark sighed. They told Ninra everything and him and Mel nothing. Not that he was complaining. It just made it difficult to one up her on anything. He loved his sister, but sometimes he didn¡¯t like the fact that it wasn¡¯t easy to terrorize her. And Mel, who somehow had the ability to terrorize her, was too nice for it.


    But that wasn¡¯t what was important. ¡°We don¡¯t have a television anymore, though.¡±


    ¡°No tv?¡± Ninra pouted.


    Ark nodded. ¡°They basically crushed it under the weight of their disagreement.¡±


    Ninra burst into laughter. ¡°What the fuck is your dumb ass going to do with a tv? Shouldn¡¯t you be preparing to go to your magic highschool or something?¡±


    Ark¡¯s eyes widened in shock.


    ¡°Oh, calm your ass down,¡± Ninra said, still laughing as she read his expression. ¡°I¡¯m alone.¡±


    She pulled the camera back and turned it from side to side, exposing her entire room. It was a simple room with two single beds spaced out on opposite sides. There was a small reading table decked out with different books and a pink tablecloth. There was just something very pink about it.


    Ninra hated pink so Ark knew it wasn¡¯t her reading table.


    He also caught sight of a wardrobe. It was white, looking as if it was made out of plastic. A bra hung from a hanger that dangled from the door handle. Blue, Ark noted unintentionally.


    ¡°Please tell me you don¡¯t just let your bra hang around everywhere,¡± he said in a tone of faux disappointment.


    ¡°My bra, my room. None of your business.¡± Ninra filled the entire screen back up with her face and adjusted the strap of the vest she was wearing. ¡°Back to what¡¯s important. How¡¯s Mel handling everything?¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°I already told you. I can¡¯t tell. His been asleep for the past two days.¡±


    ¡°Asleep or unconscious?¡±


    ¡°Uncle D said he¡¯s asleep,¡± Ark said quickly. ¡°And his breathing is steady so that¡¯s a good thing.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s proof that he¡¯s asleep not unconscious?¡±


    Ark would¡¯ve easily mistaken her question for mockery or a form of chiding him if he didn¡¯t know his sister. Not only was her tone of voice completely calm and neutral, she also never messed with Melmarc. As kid¡¯s she¡¯d always gotten in the way whenever she thought Ark was playing a little too roughly with¡ªas she liked to call him¡ªthe precious last born.


    It had changed as they¡¯d grown, but the rules remained the same. Ark didn¡¯t get to mess with Melmarc and nobody got to mess with Melmarc and Ark. He could still remember the morning she¡¯d stared their father down when he had accidentally broken a vase their mom loved while she was not around.


    A worried line creased Ninra¡¯s forehead. ¡°Ark? You keep spacing out. How are you handling it?¡±


    Ark shook his head, dispelling the memories so that he could focus more on the call.


    ¡°Can¡¯t complain.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Mel¡¯s the one that¡¯s unconscious with an injury in his head and a broken leg.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said he was asleep?¡±


    Ark paused. ¡°I said that Uncle Dorthna said that he was asleep.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Ninra stretched the word dubiously before giving him a look of suspicion. She was silent for a moment before she spoke again. ¡°I swear to God if you don¡¯t learn enough about first aid to tell the difference between unconscious and asleep, I¡¯m telling mom and dad to pull you out of the school and put you in medical school.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll flunk medical school,¡± Ark said matter-of-factly.


    ¡°I know. But you¡¯ll at least learn something before you flunk out.¡±


    Ark smiled lightly as another silence settled on them. Ninra gave it some more time before she broke it.


    ¡°You never answered my question, Ark.¡±


    Ark looked at her. ¡°What question?¡±


    ¡°How are you handling all this?¡±


    Ark shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t complain.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not an answer,¡± Ninra said, sighing. ¡°If I remember correctly, you started saying that when you were smaller.¡±


    ¡°And my therapist said I should stop,¡± Ark finished for her.


    ¡°Fuck your therapist!¡± Ninra snapped. ¡°She gave Mel a clean bill of health and look where that got us. And I¡¯m talking about you right now, not your therapist.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not her fault,¡± Ark said quietly. ¡°This one was mine.¡±


    Ninra¡¯s frown deepened. ¡°Ark?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Nin?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re beginning to mistake me for Mel or our parents.¡±


    Ark groaned. ¡°What did I do this time?¡±


    ¡°You keep trying to push the conversation you don¡¯t want to have aside.¡± Ninra gave him a look terrifyingly too similar to the one their mother gave when she was in an angry mood. ¡°The first time I said it, you mentioned Mel being unconscious because you knew I¡¯d focus on it after you just said he was asleep.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°Now,¡± Ninra cut him off sharply, ¡°you¡¯re shifting it again to your therapist. I know you do these things on purpose.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just so you know, Mel knows, too.¡± Ninra cut him off again. ¡°He just says nothing because being his older brother, he thinks you¡¯re smart enough and you¡¯re handling things in your own way.¡±


    ¡°I am¡ª¡±


    Ninra opened her mouth in a voiceless scream or groan, Ark wasn¡¯t sure. But it was enough to make him shut up.


    After a moment of silence, she took a calming breath.


    ¡°Ark?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he answered cautiously.


    ¡°You¡¯re my younger brother so, unlike Mel, I know for a fact that you¡¯re a bit stupid.¡±


    ¡°A bit?¡± Ark gave a smile. ¡°You¡¯re being kind.¡± He saw the look on her face and quickly added: ¡°I¡¯m sorry, continue.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only going to ask this question one more time, Ark. How are you handling it? And don¡¯t say you can¡¯t complain because that is not the answer.¡±


    It was a bit saddening to know that Melmarc was very much aware of the things he did, the way he dodged questions he didn¡¯t want to answer. Ark had always thought he¡¯d had Melmarc convinced, too. Then again, he knew for a fact that Mel was something of a paradox.


    His younger brother held himself back so much, trying to conform to a peaceful society that Ark couldn¡¯t say for a fact just what his brother was capable of or how much he knew about anything.


    Unable to deflect any longer, Ark gave his sister the answer she was looking for. And since it was Ninra, he knew he couldn¡¯t lie. She always knew when he lied. Well, not always, but enough times not to risk it when she was worried enough about him to be in a mood.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said finally, in defeat. ¡°What happened was my fault, Nin. Mel clearly didn¡¯t want to talk about what happened, but I knew it was affecting him somehow. He¡¯d climb his bed to sleep, then in the middle of the night he¡¯d start turning and tossing, practically fighting himself to wake up,¡±


    He sighed and scratched his head. ¡°When he finally wakes up, he¡¯d be sweating buckets. He only calms down when he goes to lie down on the floor. Then he¡¯ll sleep so very peacefully. No one sleeps better on the floor than the bed, Nin.¡±


    Ninra nodded in understanding. ¡°Then what did you do?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Ark struggled to get the words out of his mouth. What he¡¯d done had been out of character for him as far as anyone was concerned.


    ¡°Ark, look at me.¡±


    Ark focused on his sister. ¡°I¡¯m looking at you.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± She met his gaze. ¡°This is not a safe space. We judge. I judge.¡±


    A small smile touched his lips. Ark couldn¡¯t help it. For someone so fit to be a psychologist, Ninra hated therapists. When Ark had told her about his therapist telling him that her office was a safe space and that she didn¡¯t judge, Ninra had said the exact opposite.


    Over the years, it had grown to become their thing. Ark stressed her and she stressed him back. She held him accountable but didn¡¯t condemn him.


    Ark let out another sigh and scratched his head again. ¡°I went online and looked up psychological tricks to make someone talk about what they didn¡¯t want to talk about.¡±


    ¡°So you went and got the conversation starter for dummies to use on your brother?¡± Ninra nodded as if it made perfect sense. ¡°I thought you had me for that?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got school, Nin.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yea,¡± she said sarcastically. ¡°And you¡¯re a drop out, right? You definitely don¡¯t have school.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ark apologized. ¡°I should¡¯ve spoken to you.¡±


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Nope. We don¡¯t do that here.¡± Ninra shook her head. ¡°If you¡¯re going to apologize, you have to say what you¡¯re apologizing for and be right about it. Why are you apologizing?¡±


    Ark frowned. ¡°For not talking to you about it.¡±


    ¡°And was learning how to do it on your own because you wanted to help Mel, wrong?¡± she asked.


    Ark knew what the truth was but also knew that it was not the answer. Reality was often times difficult to come to terms with when you had a weight of your own bias bearing down on your chest.


    ¡°It was not,¡± he answered finally. ¡°But the result was¡ª¡±


    ¡°Unfortunate,¡± Ninra interrupted him. ¡°The outcome was unfortunate. You tried, had an error, now you know how to do it better. Never trust a person who tells you that they¡¯ve never failed before, Ark. Never.¡±


    She let her voice lull back into nonexistence so that there was silence once more. Of course she was doing it intentionally. It allowed Ark a chance to let her words settle in his mind. Even now Ark didn¡¯t know how she knew what to say when to say it as well as when not to say anything. But she did, and he was ever thankful for her.


    ¡°Clean your tears, Tar¡¯arkna,¡± she said after a while. ¡°You have no reason to be crying.¡±


    Ark scrambled to wipe the tears from his cheek only for his hands to come away dry. When he saw the half smirk on her face, he realized that he hadn¡¯t been crying and she¡¯d known it.


    ¡°Nin,¡± he said, turning beet red in embarrassment.


    ¡°Yes, brother dearest,¡± she said in her best impression of an innocent, cute girl.


    ¡°Fuck you.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you sweet,¡± she cooed. ¡°I care about you, too, brother. Call me when Mel wakes up.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡±


    Ark was about to end the call when her next words stopped him.


    ¡°Now, give the phone to Uncle Dorthna. He and I are to have words.¡±


    Ark looked from the phone to the reading table in the room. Uncle Dorthna had been sitting in the chair the entire time. Their almost indomitable uncle who¡¯d fought against Melmarc and broken a wall and a few other things was shaking his head frantically, eyes wide in terror.


    I¡¯m not around, he mouthed silently in panic, gesturing wildly with his hands. I went out. Tell her I went out.


    Ark looked back down at his phone. ¡°Uncle Dorthna wen¡ª¡±


    ¡°I swear to God I¡¯ll shove you into a portal of my own making if you don¡¯t put that old man on the phone,¡± she snapped at him. Then she raised her voice. ¡°UNCLE DORTHNA, PLEASE BE NICE ENOUGH TO COME PICK UP THIS PHONE BEFORE I STOP BEING POLITE!¡±


    If that was her being polite, he definitely didn¡¯t want to see what she looked like when she was not polite.


    Uncle Dorthna got up with a groan, like an old man.


    ¡°Why did you have to go call her,¡± he grumbled as he walked up to Ark.


    Ark held the phone out to him.


    ¡°That¡¯s why I said to call her when Mel was awake,¡± he continued to grumble. ¡°I swear you never listen.¡±


    It was almost funny seeing their uncle so worried.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Dorthna frowned. ¡°Here we go again.¡±


    He took the phone, turned the camera to his face and gave the warmest smile Ark had ever seen on his face. It was always reserved specifically for Ninra.


    ¡°Hey, Nin,¡± he said cheerfully. ¡°How¡¯s school?¡±


    ¡°Good morning, uncle D,¡± Ninra replied politely. ¡°Now that that¡¯s out of the way, what the hell did I just hear that you did to my brother?¡±


    Dorthna winced, shrinking away from her slowly rising voice.


    As Ninra gave their uncle an earful, Ark was left with a new contemplation. In a house filled with Gifted strong enough to break walls and survive portals, how the hell was the only ordinary human ruling all of them with an iron fist?


    ¡­


    Elijah could not believe his eyes.


    One moment his blast had been going straight for Madness, the next he was held up by the neck. Dangling from Aurora¡¯s hold he was starved for air. He hadn¡¯t seen the former Oath move.


    If she was a [Dreadnaught], then she was probably one of those Delvers who funneled all that they could into diversifying into speed. It was rare but Elijah had seen a delver or two with the [Dreadnaught] class who were faster than they were powerful.


    One, if he was being certain.


    But the lack of air would not hold him down. It would not dissuade him from his purpose. Grabbing Aurora by the arm that held him up, he threw his legs around it, locking her into an armbar. Most people would try to avoid it, but Aurora was not most people. She was a [Dreadnaught].


    Elijah would¡¯ve scoffed if he didn¡¯t need all the air he could muster. With the ten points to strength that becoming an Oath had given him, her pride as a [Dreadnaught] would be her demise.


    At least he thought so, until he pulled and twisted and her arm still did not budge.


    It left him incredulous. Wondering just how many points she had in strength and constitution, his mind scrambled for a new strategy. With most of his skills designed for outright destruction, using any this close to her would all but kill her.


    She was an Oath, he chided himself. The only thing more shameful than giving his all to win was losing to her.


    Sucking in a deep breath, his interface came to life. It informed him of his skill as he activated it.


    [You have used skill A Breath of Fire]


    Elijah felt the heat rise up from within him and watched Aurora¡¯s eyes widen as the blast swallowed her whole.


    When her grip stiffened, Elijah almost felt bad for her. Almost.


    But he had greater things to do, larger threats to deal with. Extricating himself from her stiff hold was easier to deal with than he thought. He fell from the height¡ªit felt higher than he would¡¯ve liked to admit¡ªand hit the ground. His feet were steady beneath him, compliments of the balance stats that came with his class.


    ¡°Elijah, no!¡± he heard Inevitability cry out. But he did not listen. It took a great will to do what had to be done. And sometimes, it took a person who wasn¡¯t heavily invested in a situation to see what was wrong and cut it out.


    Elijah knew what had to be cut out.


    He turned, looking past a burning Aurora¡ªshe had died on her feet, a respectable thing for someone who was once an Oath¡ªand moved to attack¡ª


    Every fiber of Elijah¡¯s being froze.


    A sudden pressure filled the air. It was not like an actual skill. It was not like the aura written into the cartoons or the movies. The air did not suddenly grow heavy and a heavy weight pin him to the ground. No. It was something else. Something different. It was primal. It felt like waking up in the woods and realizing that not a single living thing made a sound. It was the sudden end of movement you experience as a child when you are doing something wrong and hear a sound that you should not hear, followed by silence.


    It was the predatory urge to pretend at being anything except a living thing in other to survive the passing of a predator. Even the crackling sound of fire consuming what was left of living flesh sounded hollow and empty in the silence.


    So, no. There was no aura. The world had simply stood still in the presence of something worthy of being feared.


    Elijah¡¯s attention fell first on Inevitability. He found the man frozen halfway through clearing the table. Shield was partially pale beside him. Life was a little too far away from the entire table. But in everybody¡¯s different placements and stances, they all shared two things in common: the wary look in their eyes, and the focus of their attention.


    Elijah followed their gazes, knowing yet fearing what he would see at the end of them. He locked eyes with the Oath of Madness who no longer had any interest in his gaming console.


    Then Madness stood up.


    Despite the distance between everybody. The man towered over the entire room. He was a massive figure, so fitting of the class that Elijah wondered if he, too, was a [Dreadnought].


    He was still frozen in¡ªhe hated to admit it¡ªfear when the dead breathed life. His attention snapped away from Madness at the sound of footsteps. Elijah turned just in time to see a burning woman charging him down.


    Startled out of his momentary fear, he raised both hands and aimed carelessly.


    [You have used skill Welcome of the Dreadnought]


    The Gifted brings to their opponent the Gift of fire, welcoming them as all Dreadnoughts should.


    He felt the flames gather to his hands in the blink of an eye once more and he released it forward. Consumed in fire, Aurora ducked to the side, dodging the blast.


    Elijah backpedaled. He had been in countless fights. He¡¯d even won more than a handful of fights against humanoid monsters that the system had designated as S-ranks.


    When Aurora got to him, she came at him with a low tackle. Elijah had been in enough fights to know how to defend against such attacks. Without hesitation, he raised his leg to meet her. Knee high, he braced for impact. He would shatter her shoulder, or she would crack the bone of his leg.


    Whatever happened didn¡¯t matter because once they clashed, he had two more skills he would use.


    [You have used skill Mountain of the Dauntless]


    The Gifted becomes fifteen times their body weight, granting them the fearless stability of the mountains.


    There was more to the skill than its description. It didn¡¯t just increase weight, it hardened the body, bones and muscles alike. Over time, he had upgraded it until in addition to its description, it was also multiplied by his constitution stats.


    Elijah felt his muscles tighten as the skill took effect, felt his body grow heavier. Gravity took hold of him as his weight increased and it claimed him as its own. He wouldn¡¯t be able to move even if he wanted to. His next skill was primed in his mind, ready to be unlea¡ª


    Aurora slammed into his raised leg and picked him off the ground in her violent tackle. Elijah felt three things crack and couldn¡¯t be sure of what they were. He was too stupefied by the fact that he was flying through the air.


    When he landed, it was on a hard surface.


    His instincts for survival kicked in as his body flared a warning to itself. He watched two hands come down in an axe blow and he rolled away. The action let him know that his body was at an odd angle. He hadn¡¯t fallen to the ground. Aurora had tackled him into the edge of the table.


    The table shook from the former Oath¡¯s blow as Elijah rolled to the side, deactivating [Mountain of the dauntless] so that he could move his body.


    He fell to the ground, his head braced up by the edge of the table. Actions came alive in his periphery and he tossed himself to the side once more. Aurora¡¯s knee drove straight into the edge of the table where his head had been.


    The table moved. A terrible tremor went through it. The sound of the impact shook the ears of everyone in the room and Elijah heard something crack that was not inside him.


    Aurora was trying to kill him.


    And rightfully so, a voice inside his head declared. All things must come to an end. Even life becomes desolate.


    ¡°Aurora, stand down!¡± someone shouted in the distance. Elijah couldn¡¯t place the voice to an owner. All he knew was that it belonged to a woman. ¡°Don¡¯t kill him!¡±


    Elijah flared in anger. That they worried for his life against a former Oath was insulting. He was Desolation. Death was a part of his purview.


    He rolled away once more at the last second, feeling a numbing pain in his side. A leg came down where his head had once been.


    The axe hand. The flying knee. The leg stomp. Aurora was only aiming for his head.


    Scrambling to his feet he opened his mouth and roared.


    [You have used Oath skill Herald of Desolation]


    Desolation comes to those who wait. The Oath begins the first step of desolation, clearing a path before them in one blow.


    The wave of his roar shot forth from his lungs and tore through the air in front of him. Aurora¡¯s charging approach did not end. He ran forward like a battering ram.


    A little belatedly, Elijah realized what he had done. His target was Madness, but he was caught up in a fight against the Oath¡¯s wife. But that was not the problem. The problem was what was about to happen. Aurora had proven herself to be fast, faster than he¡¯d ever thought a [Dreadnought] could be.


    She could easily evade his attacks as long as she saw them coming. The problem now was that the Oath of Grace occupied the space behind her. Elijah paled in fear as he realized what was about to happen. Once this skill was over, he would become an enemy of the Oaths.


    He had perfectly screwed himself with his own two hands. Unprovoked.


    Aurora tanked the blast from his skill with two arms held over her face. The roar shattered on impact, not even driving her back or stopping her charge. [Herald of Desolation] fell apart and Elijah only had time to be confused before she slammed into him.


    Elijah¡¯s head bounced of the ground as they went down only to hit a hard surface as it came up. His head bounced off the hard surface, going back down. Bouncing off the ground once more, his head was met with a hard surface. Again, it knocked his head back down. Twice more, then thrice more.


    The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Then the smell of it filled his nostrils. Pain filled his head so that it was difficult to even process the smells. No skill came to mind that could save him. He had more than enough skills, though. An arsenal of skills designed to kill and destroy.


    But he had only the one Oath skill. The single gift that had come with becoming an Oath.


    Someone shouted something in the distance but Elijah did not hear it. He was too busy trying to hold onto his life as it slipped from his grasp. Death came to him slowly.


    As it did, he came to a single realization. He had fought with all that he was capable of in the time given to him. He had used his class skills and his Oath skill. He had given it his all.


    But Aurora had brought desolation to the Oath of Desolation without calling up a single skill.


    It seemed his earlier opinion about [Dreadnoughts] always being consumed by the hubris of thinking they were special did not only apply to other [Dreadnoughts]. It applied to him as well


    As the world slowly faded to black, Elijah realized that there was nothing peaceful about dying.


    At least not the way he was dying.


    Perhaps there really was a massive difference between dying and being killed.


    ¡­


    Madness be damned, Pain leapt over the desk. He¡¯d watched Aurora deliver a one sided massacre to the new Oath. Despite the mild curiosity he¡¯d had at the beginning of the fight, he could not say that he was surprised. The woman had been an Oath for almost fifteen years before she¡¯d lost her Oath-hood.


    Desolation had only been an Oath for less than a week.


    So when she¡¯d started handing his ass to him, Pain had not been bothered. When Desolation had broken a rib, his leg and his tailbone, he had felt the pain as well and had been more than happy to leave it.


    Then Aurora had finally brought him down and had begun raining blows on the Oath, bouncing his head off the ground with each punch. Even then, Pain had been feeling the Oath¡¯s pain.


    Until it had started dwindling slowly and gently. Any more and the Oath would feel no more pain. And Pain only knew of one thing that felt no pain: things that were not alive.


    ¡°Stand down, Aurora!¡± he bellowed, repeating the words Grace had used not too long ago as he scaled the table. ¡°You¡¯ll kill him!¡±


    To his surprise, Aurora stopped pounding away at the Oath that was now unable to put up a fight. Desolation had been beating bloody. His face was covered in blood and his nose was bent in all the wrong directions. Not in the wrong direction but all the wrong directions. A part of his face was even caved in and Pain knew that the Oath had two broken eye sockets.


    Aurora had sought to ruin him. But Pain could not blame her. He doubted anyone present in the room could. Desolation had struck first. He had gotten what he deserved.


    With her hands covered in the blood of her enemy, Aurora looked down at Desolation without any expression. The simple clothes she had worn to the meeting were completely burnt off, but she was not naked. She was wearing a tactical suit designed to be worn under her clothes.


    Pain knew the design. It was made from the skin of a guardian and every old Oath had one. It did nothing against physical attacks but increased resistance to elemental attacks. It did not get wet. It did not burn. And it did not freeze.


    She cocked her head to the side as if studying Desolation. After a moment, she drove a straight fist into his nose.


    ¡°Aurora!¡± Pain roared.


    Aurora got up from Desolation''s unconscious body and stepped away as if she wasn¡¯t currently stained by his blood.


    Pain reached out to Desolation with his senses and felt the pain wracking through the Oath¡¯s body. It was a good thing. The Oath was still alive. They¡¯d never had a case of an Oath killing another Oath, and they hoped to never have one, not even with Greed running around.


    The crisis was averted and Pain let out a sigh of relief as he leaned against the table. On the other side, where Aurora had driven her knee into the table in an attempt to take Desolation¡¯s life, was a crack.


    The single crack gave Pain a new understanding of just how strong Aurora was even now that she was not an Oath.


    Pain turned to look at Life. ¡°Tell me that your Oath has the ability to heal people.¡±


    ¡°It does,¡± Life confirmed.


    ¡°Then heal him so that we can get this meeting over with.¡±


    Life shook his head quickly. ¡°No, can¡¯t do.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Pain asked, confused and mildly enraged.


    Life wasn¡¯t the one who answered him. In fact, no one did. Only a single voice crying out told him why Life was in no hurry to help.


    ¡°Madness!¡± Inevitability¡¯s voice filled the room. ¡°No!¡±


    Pain turned and found Madness kneeling over the Oath of Desolation, straddling him. He was looking down at him with the same absence of expression with which he looked at everything.


    This time, Inevitability scaled the table as Madness cocked a hand over his shoulder and brought it down. Aurora did not move a muscle from where she was standing. It didn¡¯t look like she intended to. Grace simply closed her eyes, mourning the Oath even before his death.


    Pain knew for a fact that Inevitability would not get to Madness in time, so he did the one thing he could.


    [You have used Oath skill Relief From Pain]


    Pain is best shared. The Oath releases a wave of their own pain, awakening the pain in those around him, old, new, hidden or fresh.


    He heard Grace cry out to the side and wondered if the pain she felt now was physical or emotional or both.


    Aurora¡¯s reaction to the skill was to bare her teeth in barely controlled rage. These were all side effects. Pain watched for the main effect and was glad to see his plan had worked.


    Madness¡¯ fist had stopped barely an inch away from Desolation¡¯s face. Pain had just saved the life of the Oath.


    Madness stopped, ignoring Desolation, and rose to his feet.


    Unsure of what was happening, Pain increased the intensity of the skill and he saw a trickle of blood drip from Aurora¡¯s nose. As for Madness, he simply turned and faced him.


    Pain had saved the life of Desolation but at a great cost.


    A towering monstrosity of physical presence, Madness walked through the wave of the pain that [Relief From Pain] shared, and approached him.


    Pain had just garnered the undivided attention of the Oath of Madness.


    Fuck, he swore.


    But he was an Oath. He did not intend to simply lie down and die.


    [You have used Oath skill Despair in Pain]


    Pain is not the enemy. It is simply an attribute of life. The Oath converts the pain of the world around him into physical attributes. Stat point gained is based on the intensity of pain.


    Pain tapped into Desolation¡¯s pain, knowing a simple truth.


    It seemed an Oath just might die today.

 ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE: The Lockwoods

    Fighting Madness was a tricky thing. It was like having a stablemaster catch fish with his bare hand. It wasn¡¯t just slippery, it was annoying, difficult to navigate. And then there were the rules. The rules for raising horses did not apply in any way to catching fish.


    In the same way, the rules for fighting a normal person did not apply to Madness.


    Pain held his hand out, stalling an approaching Inevitability. With his Oath skill [Relief From Pain] in effect, no one around him would be able to fight at their optimum capability. There was a higher chance of success if he fought alone.


    The thought almost made him scoff. A higher chance of success was a nice way of saying a lower chance of defeat.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got this,¡± he said quickly, speaking to Inevitability but making sure he was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. ¡°Just keep the fool alive and make sure I don¡¯t die.¡±


    As long as Aurora didn¡¯t step in, Pain was sure the casualties would remain at the minimum. Grace would¡¯ve been a counter point if she could push beyond the pain, but Madness was one of only two beings they had seen that cared nothing for the Oath.


    Madness stomped from, closing the distance between him and Pain. He was a moving mountain by all standards.


    With [Despair in Pain] tapping energy from a dying Desolation, Pain knew he had a chance. Raising his hands, he prepared to fight.


    Madness¡¯ approach morphed from a daunting walk to a sudden dash.


    No, you don¡¯t. Pain raised his leg and brough it down hard on the ground.


    [You have used skill Path of Nature]


    The ground between him and Madness shot up. It rose in jagged spikes, aimed for Madness¡¯ chest. Pain did not expect it to work and wasn¡¯t surprised when Madness barreled right through it, shattering the entire stalagmite on impact.


    Pain frowned, knowing Madness class was not a strength class. He must¡¯ve stolen the skill from someone in the room. Aurora was Pain¡¯s best guess.


    [Path of Nature] allowed him to manipulate anything non-living that he came in contact with. Once upon a time, he couldn¡¯t use his legs. Now, however, the skill had been upgraded to the point that as long as the obstacles between him and his point of contact weren¡¯t much, he could move the floor even with shoes on.


    With ten uses before the skill went into cool down, Pain stepped to the side and another stalagmite shot out from where he¡¯d been standing. Madness¡¯ eyes never moved from Pain as he closed the distance.


    Madness stamped his foot, pushing himself to the side. At first, Pain thought he was evading only for a stalagmite to shoot out from the ground, crashing with the one he had summoned.


    That right there was the reason all the classes hated those who carried the [Faker] class. Having to switch between so many different class skills, it was no wonder the man was mad.


    But Pain wasn¡¯t done. Madness was almost on him when he activated the next skill and charged into the Oath.


    [You have used skill Winds of Winter]


    The temperature dipped in front of Pain as he channeled the skill in Madness¡¯ direction. The air grew cold, then visible, then turned bluish. Madness charged into it, undaunted. But being undaunted did not make a person invincible.


    Frost grew around Madness¡¯ neck, slowly solidifying into a thick layer of ice. Then it appeared around his arm, slowing him down.


    Come on, big guy, Pain begged. Stop or go down.


    He was already channeling another skill as a block of ice solidified around one of Madness¡¯ foot, pinning it to the ground.


    [You have used skill A Taste of Storm]


    Being restricted indoors, Pain could not bring the full weight of the skill to bear since it would normally call down lightning from the sky. But it wasn¡¯t completely limited. Without an accessible sky, it called lightning from him, draining more mana than it normally would.


    And Pain had mana to spare.


    Hands held out in front of him, a streak of lightning leapt through the air. It cracked into Madness like a terrible whip and the Oath let out an uncomfortable groan.


    Slow and steady, Pain thought as he channeled more mana into the skill to keep it going. Electrocution was a painful thing to experience.


    He spared the briefest moment to keep an eye on Aurora and found Grace standing in front of her. Whatever conversation they were having was lost to him. With one eye on Grace, Aurora kept a piece of her attention on Madness. Despite what was going on, she didn¡¯t look bothered.


    As he returned his attention to Madness¡¯ he caught a glimpse of Life holding out his staff in front of Fear as if stopping her from doing something.


    Pain wasn¡¯t sure what that was about, but it was not a bad decision the old Oath had made.


    Right now, Pain was playing damage control. He was not trying to win a fight against Madness, he was trying to calm the Oath down. Which was a funny thing to say since the Oath didn¡¯t even look angry.


    The sound of cracking ice did not surprise Pain as it filled the air. A preliminary glance showed him that the slowly growing patches of ice that had been trying to keep Madness in place were cracking. The one pinning him to the ground, however, stood strong.


    Time for the big guns, Pain thought.


    [You have used skill Dual Casting]


    ¡­


    [You have used skill Winds of Winter]


    Unlike simple active skills, there were active skills that were termed channeled skills. They required a steady channeling of mana to keep alive. Those who had such skills could not use it alongside another channeling skill. But Pain wasn¡¯t most people.


    [Dual Casting] was one of a few skills that he had that allowed him use multiple channeled skills. Then, with [Winds of Winter], he resolidified the cracking ice.


    He watched as the patches of ice regained their structure, hardening once more. Come on, big guy. Make this easy.


    Pain felt as if he was corralling a mad dog. Then again, the person in front of him was mad.


    For the first time since he¡¯d gotten his attention, Madness looked at something else. He looked down at the block of ice encasing his leg then opened his mouth.


    A blast of liquid fire spilled from his open mouth. It engulfed the block of ice like molten lava. It looked like an upgraded version of the skill Desolation had used on Aurora.


    How the hell? Pain thought as he channeled more mana into [Winds of Winter].


    The classes of the Oaths were no secret to the Oaths. Apart from the new Oaths, there was no one present that didn¡¯t know that Madness owned the [Faker] class. And if there was one thing that people knew about the [Faker] class, it was that they didn¡¯t just pull out skills they¡¯d seen once upon a time and use. They had to acquire the skill within a time period of witnessing the skill in whatever way they were required to in order to imitate it.


    Pain had no idea where Madness had gotten the skill that had made him strong enough to tank a blow from the stalagmite Pain had all but thrown at him, but if he was using a skill that Desolation had used in the beginning of his fight against Aurora, then it left Pain with only one explanation.


    He¡¯s been preparing for a fight since the beginning.


    The next important question was if the fight Pain was currently having was premeditated by Madness or just an unlucky coincidence as most things with Madness tended to be.


    As Madness pulled his leg forward, shattering the ice that had held him in place, Pain realized that he didn¡¯t know which was more terrifying: Madness acting on impulse or Madness acting on a premeditated plan.


    Leg free and at his disposal, Madness ignored the other patches of ice drowning him in cold and reducing his movement. Instead, he turned his attention on Pain and opened his mouth once more.


    Like hell you will, Pain swore, activating more skills.


    [You have used skill Triple Cast]


    ¡­


    [You have used class skill Path of Nature]


    He felt the ground beneath his feet and he called it up. Instead of a stalagmite, a wall erupted in front of him, standing between him and Madness¡¯ fire. But the fire never came. Instead, something heavy struck the wall once. The skill shattered under the force of the blow.


    It revealed Madness barreling forward again.


    With no more space to run, Pain knew he was left with only one course of action. Fight.


    He met Madness head on. The massive Oath threw a single forward jab and Pain weaved under it. Coming up on Madness¡¯ side, he went for a body blow, but not on his own.


    As his fist struck upwards, compensating for the height difference, a blunt stalagmite erupted from the ground. At a diagonal angle, the stalagmite was the fist that would shake Madness¡¯ liver.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    A stalagmite erupted between it and Madness and the skills cancelled each other out. Pain hated having his skill used against him. Worse, he hated that he was struggling against Madness while Madness was under the weight of his Oath skill [Relief From Pain].


    It made him feel weak. He knew he was the weaker of the both of them, but it was one thing to know something and another thing to feel it.


    Madness turned and struck downwards. Pain barely avoided the blow. However, the wind of the strike was a clear indication of the damage that would have come from the attack as it slapped across Pain¡¯s face.


    ¡°Can¡¯t we just calm down, Madness?¡± Pain asked, knowing for a fact that such a thing was not about to happen.


    But it was Madness. You never knew what would work.


    Madness ignored his question and threw another simple jab at him. Pain dodged it only for Madness to throw another, then another. Then four jabs came in quick succession. They came like a combo move.


    Pain weaved out of the way of the first one, ignoring the breeze that touched his face. He slapped the second one aside and did the same for the third. Now he gave Madness his entire attention. He knew combo moves. The way Madness was moving, something different would come after the fourth blow.


    Blocking the fourth blow, he braced himself for a counterattack. When the switch up came, he was ready.


    Madness turned into a spinning blow. Pain resolved to take the blow with a raised arm, capturing the Oath¡¯s thrown hand and throwing him off balance.


    He raised his arm to take the strike, but it never came. Madness did not go for a spinning blow.


    The giant of an Oath hadn¡¯t been going for a combo technique. If he actually had been, he had to have changed his mind at the last moment because what he did was in no way a technique.


    Madness wasn¡¯t going for a spinning blow. He just turned his back and Pain¡¯s mouth dropped in confusion as the monster of a man fell on him.


    Pain, not strong enough to hold up the weight of Madness¡¯ body, went crashing down with the Oath. A crack of pain filled his head as it struck against the edge of the table as they went down.


    Pain felt himself grow stronger, the pain adding to his stats. When they hit the ground, Madness was still on top of him. So, he pushed with all his might.


    The weight disappeared suddenly as Madness simply rolled off him. Pain¡¯s mind was scrambling now. What would happen next? What was the next attack?


    It came out of nowhere.


    As Madness rolled off him, he swung his hand with the momentum of his roll and slapped Pain across the face. The blow wasn¡¯t painful, only very confusing.


    Pain refused to allow it to distract him. Scrambling off the floor, he called up another skill a little too late. Before it activated, Madness barreled him into the edge of the table. As sturdy as the thing was, Pain felt the pain of having your spine bash against the edge of a table.


    Gritting his teeth, he swallowed the pain, allowed it fuel him. With [Despair in Pain] active, pain was power. Even with all his pain spread all over the room to keep Madness weakened, he still had enough pain from Desolation to keep him strong and fast.


    Sadly, the pain was beginning to seem insufficient.


    Madness held Pain down on the table with a hand on his chest and cocked a fist back. Pain¡¯s head darted to the side as Madness brought the fist down only for Madness to stop as if reconsidering the action.


    You¡¯ve got to be kiddi¡ª


    The blow landed, smashing into Pain¡¯s nose.


    Pain had heard tales of Madness¡¯ infamous strikes but had never gotten the displeasure of experiencing it. Now that he had, the Oath¡¯s punch wasn¡¯t as powerful as he¡¯d expected. Certainly not enough to give someone like Inevitability a concussion.


    But while the pain would do good things for him, an increase in stats did not mean that there would be no damage. He was the Oath of Pain not Damage. So, when Madness¡¯ second blow dropped, Pain moved his head to dodge it.


    Pain¡¯s hand snapped upwards. Grabbing Madness by the arm, he tried to move him aside. For all his increased stats, Madness didn¡¯t budge. A third blow connected with the table. The force of it reverberated through the table sending a shock through Pain¡¯s head.


    Why did that seem stronger?


    Madness struck again and Pain was too late to move his head. Again, Madness¡¯ fist hit the table.


    A frown line creased Pain¡¯s brow. How had the man missed?


    Madness struck once more, slamming his fist into the table once more.


    You¡¯re worrying about the wrong¡ª


    Pain¡¯s thoughts ceased in his head as he heard a crack. Then he felt the hairline fractions crawl through the table, spreading.


    Pain paled. His struggles became frantic. This was the infamous strike of the Oath of Madness. Something told him that he did not, for any reason, want to experience it.


    Madness¡¯ hand that pinned him down by the chest moved up and grabbed him by the jaw. Pain struggled against him, fighting as Madness pulled his head, dragging his face back to the same spot.


    Pain knew in the depth of his soul that he did not want to be there. Whatever Madness was about to do to him, he did not want a part of it.


    Unfortunately, Madness¡¯ hold was like the weight of the world. Pain could do nothing against it.


    I guess I don¡¯t have a choice, Pain thought in a last ditch effort as Madness¡¯ fist came down.


    He deactivated [Relief From Pain].


    All the pain he¡¯d released into the world came back to him. Trapped inside of him, he felt it all. The lung that was stuck in an eternal state of rotting. The pain of Desolation¡¯s nose trying and struggling to grasp at the air around him. The place he¡¯d been stabbed in his first fight. The headache of years of accumulated concussions.


    All of it fueled him and his stats rose as [Despair in Pain] gave him strength. The pain fueled him like a thousand suns.


    Pain was alive, ripe with power.


    It was a lot. The power of a thousand suns. He could burn down two worlds and still have more to burn.


    A sound ripped from his throat. It was guttural and powerful. A roar that shook the world. Eyes bright with power, he charged forward, ripping Madness¡¯ hand from his face.


    Then pain flared in his face. The fuel of a thousand suns was multiplied by a thousand more suns. Madness'' fist slammed into his face with the weight of two worlds and Pain''s head went straight through the table.


    Pain¡¯s world went white. He saw nothing, felt nothing. Pain was all there was. And it fueled him to bursting. But there was also damage. He knew it as surely as he knew he was an Oath fighting against a madman.


    He caught a whisp of light, of reality. Madness¡¯ face came into view. He had another fist cocked back.


    All it would do was fuel Pain¡¯s stats some more. But even in his ecstasy of power, Pain knew it would bring damage. He already couldn¡¯t feel his face.


    ¡°I WILL NOT DIE TODAY!¡± he roared into the world, declaring his very existence, spitting in the face of death as blood and spittle dripped from his face. ¡°I AM PAIN!¡±


    In the corner of the room, he watched Life wince. Fear looked away. Grace abandoned whatever conversation she was having with Aurora and raised her hands in his and Madness¡¯ direction, most likely attempting to use a skill. Inevitability¡¯s eyes widened in horror.


    Pain saw all these in the blink of an eye.


    Madness¡¯ fist came down.


    Pain¡¯s interface beat came alive before the fist completed its path to his face.


    [You have used Oath skill Pain of the World]


    He grabbed Madness by the arm and channeled the entirety of the skill into him.


    Pain would¡¯ve smiled if he could, but he didn¡¯t have the awareness of his face or even most of his body to do much else.


    A grunt slipped from Madness¡¯ lips, and Pain felt the Oath tremble in his hands.


    There was a saying amongst Oaths. World skills were reserved for classes. The world did not grant skills to Oaths, only to the Gifted that had classes. The world was kind to the Gifted, but the Oaths were kind to the world.


    It had been that way since Callum had become Pain. All Oaths knew this. Callum knew this¡­


    Until the world had chosen to be kind to an Oath--to be kind to him.


    If Madness remembered the end of this fight, then he would know that there now existed an Oath that was unique. An Oath that the world had deemed worthy of blessing. As all other Oaths, Madness¡¯ interface would inform him that an Oath skill had been used on him.


    Then Pain¡¯s secret would no longer be a secret.


    But if this was the way his secret would come to light, he was happy with it.


    He would stand as the only Oath of this generation to ever defeat the Oath of Madness.


    It was a good way to go out.


    It was a good way to¡ª


    [Warning!]


    [The Oath of Madness has used an Oath skill on you.]


    [You have been afflicted with an Oath skill]


    ..


    [You have been afflicted with Oath skill World of Madness]


    Pain didn''t have enough time to truly register what he was seeing before everything went white.


    ¡­


    The entire room went deathly silent. Only Desolation¡¯s weak struggles to breath touched the silence as Madness¡¯ second blow refused to land.


    The grunt he had let out a moment earlier, accompanied by the momentary full body shudder had left them all at a loss for words. So, Madness sat there, straddling Pain amidst a pile of broken table glass that was supposed to be too sturdy to break.


    Inevitability would have to make an apology to [Unbound]. He was the real owner of the table, commissioned from an S-rank [Crafter].


    When the silence seemed to stretch on for so long, Aurora peeked to the side.


    ¡°Babe,¡± she said in a quiet voice. ¡°You good?¡±


    Only then did something else happen. Madness gave a single nod. Then he got up. Reaching down, he grabbed Pain by his chest, grabbing a handful of his shirt, and turned to face them.


    Grace gasped at the sight.


    Madness bled from his eyes and nose. Blood trickled from his ears, too. Bloodshot eyes looked at Aurora and a silent communication seemed to pass between them a moment before blood trickled from them like tears.


    Madness nodded, and she nodded back.


    Ignorant of the others in the room, Madness walked with Pain hanging from his hold, back bent backwards. With gentle steps, he came to a stop in front of Life and dropped Pain on the table.


    This was the fight that had been inevitable, Inevitability thought. This was the fight he¡¯d felt coming.


    Madness released Pain, abandoning him along with his broken and battered face that was now completely unidentifiable, and looked at Life.


    He pointed at the unconscious Oath and said one word.


    ¡°Heal.¡±


    Life inched closer cautiously. He dropped his staff on the table and placed a hand on Pain¡¯s face.


    How Pain was still alive was a mystery to Inevitability. The blow he¡¯d taken from Madness that had given him a concussion had only clipped his jaw and it was after the fourth time it clipped his jaw. It was accumulated damage from strikes that had only barely clipped his jaw.


    Pain had taken two full fists to the face.


    How?


    Life looked down at Pain as the air around him suddenly turned a deep forest green. The green grew deeper with every passing second. After half a minute, he looked up at Madness, craned his neck back to meet his eyes.


    ¡°This will take a while,¡± he said, and Madness nodded. Cautiously, Life added: ¡°Do you need any attention?¡±


    Madness gave him no answer. Instead, he walked over to his game console, stepped over the table and took his seat. Picking up the console, he went back to playing his video game. The blood leaking from his eyes, ears, and nostrils did not stop trickling out.


    Inevitability looked around, unable to deny his own confusion. Things had gotten very volatile. Two Oaths had almost died today.


    Running his hand down his face, he sighed in sudden exhaustion. ¡°Why don¡¯t we just adj¡ª¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Aurora¡¯s words were clear and concise.


    Turning away from Grace, she climbed over her side of the table and took her seat beside her husband.


    No Oath had died, but in this moment, Inevitability knew one thing. The dynamics of the Oaths had changed. Any Oath who didn¡¯t have a brain or even half a brain would stop seeing Madness as a problem. With what had just happened, fools would now see the Lockwoods as a threat.


    Inevitability pitied those fools.


    ¡°We have overstayed our welcome,¡± Aurora said, seated comfortably next to Madness. ¡°I will say only one thing. Conversations with the [August Intruder] will happen only through us. This is non-negotiable.¡±


    Inevitability saw it in her eyes. There would be no negotiating. No one would talk her out of this decision. She had just declared a monopoly on the [August Intruder] thereby solidifying her power amongst the Oaths even though she was no longer one.


    The Oaths present and conscious either accepted it or risked the possibility of death.


    And there was nothing anyone could do about it.


    Grace sighed in defeat but returned to her seat without a word. Everyone else did. Only Life remained standing over Pain as he healed him.


    Inevitability took his seat. ¡°We have no objection to that.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Aurora said, speaking for her and her husband. ¡°Now,¡± her eyes settled on Shield, ¡°let us talk about the real reason I am here.¡±


    ¡°While we do that,¡± Inevitability gestured to Life, ¡°can you find the time to heal Desolation.¡±


    Life looked from him to Madness, then down to Pain.


    A single word filled the air.


    ¡°No.¡±


    It came with a finality from a man playing a video game.


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Inevitability¡¯s words died in his throat as Madness raised his head to look at him.


    ¡°He lives or dies,¡± Madness said very clearly, mincing no words, ¡°by his own will.¡±


    Inevitability had no argument to offer. In this moment, he only hoped that Madness¡¯ interests in the activities of the Oaths would go back to what it always was: disinterest. He also hoped that his wife would also return to her disregard for them.


    If not, the Oaths were about to experience the dawn of a new era, a new reign.


    The reign of the Lockwoods.


    And it was all their fault.


    As negotiations¡ªbecause that was what it was¡ªon Shield¡¯s apology and resolution for what she had done as regards their son being trapped in the portal commenced, Inevitability had only one thought.


    What have we done?

 ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN: Tararkna

    It had been a few minutes since Uncle Dorthna had left the room for one reason or the other. Actually, according to the man himself, he had left the room to go get himself a cup of hot water.


    For a man who sometimes complained about the heat and sometimes about the cold, he loved his hot water when he could have it.


    His departure left Ark in the room alone with Mel. Once in a while, he found his eyes moving to his brother. It was always so sudden. It was always so annoying. His sister¡¯s words had brought him some level of forgiveness because she was not known to lie to him. But knowing the truth did not suddenly make you believe in it.


    Sometimes, pain and guilt and bias worked as greater opponents to accepting the truth than people thought.


    When Ark¡¯s eyes settled on Mel once more, he did not look away. He did not pretend that it didn¡¯t happen. Whatever had happened, they were brothers. You did not get awkward moments with your brother. No matter what anybody had to say, Ark refused to believe awkward moments between brothers were a normal thing.


    Then again, he knew two siblings who¡­


    It¡¯s not as if you stole his girlfriend, Ark chided himself.


    Mel¡¯s face looked relatively calm. After all, it was the way with people who were asleep¡­ or unconscious. Maybe Ninra had a point, and he really needed to learn how to tell the difference.


    Ark had cleaned the blood stain from his face and had spent the last few days wiping him down whenever he could. Currently, Mel was lying down dressed in only his boxer. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. At least three bruise spots marred his torso. Ark guessed they were courtesy of Uncle Dorthna.


    As for the living room, it was clean and tidy. And by clean and tidy, Ark meant that he and Uncle Dorthna had cleared out all the ruined couches as well as the television he and Mel had destroyed in the living room. There was a knife from the kitchen with an indentation of a fingerprint. Uncle Dorthna wanted them to throw it out too, but it was currently sitting quietly in Ark¡¯s wardrobe.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re doing good,¡± he muttered.


    The door to the room opened once more and Uncle Dorthna walked in. He had a steaming mug held in both hands, cradled as if it was the most special thing and he needed its warmth running through him.


    ¡°He¡¯s doing good,¡± Uncle Dorthna said, taking a seat at the reading table. ¡°It¡¯ll just take him a while.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll heal his injuries.¡± Ark couldn¡¯t bring himself to look at Mel¡¯s leg. Uncle Dorthna had straightened it out so that there was only a swollen purple bruise left. But it was not yet healed. ¡°Right?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡±


    ¡°But why can¡¯t you heal it now?¡± he asked. He gestured at the bruise. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s right there.¡±


    ¡°Because I want him to be a part of the process.¡± Dorthna took a sip of his hot water. ¡°The both of you aren¡¯t just ordinary Gifted. You do remember that, right?¡±


    Ark nodded slowly.


    Something else was on his mind. It tinkered around as Uncle Dorthna took another sip of his water.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t gone for up to two minutes,¡± he said.


    Uncle Dorthna looked at him from over the rim of his cup, brow cocked in an unspoken question.


    ¡°How¡¯s the water already hot?¡± Ark asked.


    Uncle Dorthna took his time to respond. He sipped a little longer, then placed the cup carefully and intentionally on the reading table, making sure not to place it on top of any of the books. When he was done, he returned his attention to Ark.


    He made a flourish above his head with his hands. ¡°Magic,¡± he said, dramatically.


    Ark raised an incredulous brow at that, but Uncle Dorthna didn¡¯t seem to care. The man had already turned back to the table to retrieve his cup of water.


    In hindsight, Ark could agree that it had been a stupid question. Especially when he took into account everything he¡¯d seen their uncle do so far.


    At least he knows how to use it, Ark thought. He deserves it.


    As for him, his power wasn¡¯t even really his. It hadn¡¯t been earned, simply given. The thought brought Spitfire to his mind, and he bent down to check under Mel¡¯s bed. A grimace settled on his face when he found the demon chewing away at one of Mel¡¯s shirts.


    Hopefully it wasn¡¯t one of his favorites.


    Spitfire paused to look at him and Ark gave it a smile before sitting back up. Was Spitfire¡¯s choice of him a simple mistake or had it gone out of its way to pick him? It was a question that had plagued him a few times.


    All this power and you¡¯re nothing but a violent delinquent. The words bubbled in his head. He couldn¡¯t argue with the delinquent part. His teachers had used the description on him enough times. Also, with all the fights he¡¯d gotten into and all the classes he¡¯d skipped, the title was his, bought and paid for.


    Ark had just always thought he would be different if he¡¯d gotten powers. More controlled, like Mel. Maybe not like Mel, since Mel was far too controlled for his own good. But at least a little bit as controlled.


    Power came with some level of responsibility, after all. It was what everybody said. It was what Spitfire had told him when they¡¯d entered their second demonic portal and he¡¯d seen the sacrifice offered for his arrival.


    But nothing had changed. He was still the same boy he had been before becoming a Gifted. Impulsive and rash. Throwing a fist first and thinking second.


    A smile almost spread his lips, a self-deprecating one. He thought too little out in the world and thought too much in the house.


    His eyes moved back down to his unconscious brother. And look where thinking too much got you.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a question, Uncle D,¡± he said after a while, trying to fill the silence with words so that he didn¡¯t have to focus on his own thoughts.


    Uncle Dorthna paused to look at him and lowered his mug. ¡°Here¡¯s to hoping I have an answer.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna always had an answer. Even to a question as stupid as why he couldn¡¯t teach a child how to fly, asked by a four-year-old boy who¡¯d had plans of jumping off the roof in order to fly like a hero in a comic.


    ¡°What Ninra said,¡± he began. ¡°Is it true?¡±


    ¡°About what?¡± Dorthna asked.¡± About this not being your fault? If yes, then the answer is yes. It¡¯s true.¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°Not that.¡±


    He had more to say but hesitated.


    With a sigh, his uncle placed his mug on the table again and folded his arms over his chest. ¡°Alright, kiddo. Let¡¯s hear it.¡±


    Ark worried his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to get the words out.


    Eventually, he did. ¡°I¡¯m talking about me always acting aloof and troublesome. She said everyone already knows.¡±


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°Everyone does. But if there¡¯s one thing I¡¯ve learnt, it¡¯s that people handle things in their own ways. I think Mel was the second to find out. Then your mom. With your dad, who can say?¡±


    ¡°When did you find out?¡±


    His uncle shrugged. ¡°When your sister told me.¡±


    Ark thought as much. ¡°So, she was the first to find out?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna stared at nothing, suddenly thoughtful. ¡°She¡¯s always the first to find out.¡±


    That was a confusing thing to say so thoughtfully. But it wasn¡¯t wrong. Ark had always thought the same thing.


    ¡°She can be terrifying like that,¡± he muttered.


    Uncle Dorthna shivered visibly. ¡°You have no idea.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Ark paused. ¡°You¡¯re really scared of her?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna cocked a brow. ¡°Are you saying that you¡¯re not?¡±


    Ark was, but not in the way of being terrified that she would harm him. It was just in a more instinctual manner, like getting a particular look from your mother that made you stop doing what you were doing. It wasn¡¯t really about the punishment but more about a simple acknowledgement or acceptance that she had power over him.


    He couldn¡¯t really put it into words.


    As for his reply to his uncle, it was simple. ¡°I am,¡± he said. ¡°But she¡¯s my older sister. What¡¯s your excuse?¡±


    His uncle was silent for a moment. Then he shrugged. ¡°She¡¯s the spawn of the Oath of Madness and the Oath of War, and older sister to a [Demon King] and the [August Intruder], claimant to an entire world. Yet, she''s just human. Does that work?¡±


    Ark opened his mouth, then closed it. When Uncle Dorthna put it that way, Ninra sounded very badass. But he wouldn¡¯t be caught dead saying that.


    ¡°Fair point,¡± he said.


    Once again, he looked down at Mel. The awkwardness of looking down at him when Uncle Dorthna had left them alone in the room was gone now, and he was happy for it. Now, however, while it came easily, it brought guilt. It was a reminder.


    ¡°How do people change?¡± The words came out of his mouth. With his eyes on Melmarc, he wasn¡¯t even sure who he was talking to, their uncle or himself.


    It could¡¯ve easily been Melmarc.


    ¡°Something happens to them.¡± Dorthna¡¯s words filled the air, calm and gentle. ¡°Or they have something that they want to happen to them.¡±


    Something had happened to Ark, but that hadn¡¯t changed him. If becoming Gifted was not enough to change him, he wondered if there was anything that would be able to.


    Was there something that he wanted to happen to him?


    He couldn¡¯t think of any right now.


    ¡°If a person has none of these,¡± he said slowly, eyes still fixed on Mel, ¡°how do they change?¡±


    At first, his uncle said nothing, allowing a slow silence stretch. It settled over the entire room like a blanket. It was not warm. It did not drive away the chill. Instead, it forced Ark to reflect on what he had said. It forced him to ask himself what he wanted to change.


    Uncle Dorthna spoke before he did.


    ¡°Do you want to change, Tar¡¯arkna?¡±


    Ark could count the number of times Uncle Dorthna had called him by his complete name since the day he was born on one hand.


    Hearing it jarred him from his thoughts, forced him to look at his uncle.


    Ark¡¯s answer was not as profound as his question. ¡°Maybe?... I don¡¯t know.¡±


    His uncle let out a slow breath. It wasn¡¯t necessarily a sigh. Ark wasn¡¯t sure what it was.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Uncle Dorthna said, placing his mug aside. This time he put it on the floor. ¡°People have always misunderstood the concept of change. God knows that for a concept so misunderstood it¡¯s a good thing its Oaths are the rarest in existence¡ªworlds living and dying without ever having one.¡± He shook his head, somehow making the action look grateful. ¡°Headaches all of them.¡± He paused, looked at Ark. ¡°Where was I?¡±


    ¡°Change being misunderstood,¡± Ark answered.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Ah yes. Change.¡± His uncle smiled. ¡°There aren¡¯t a lot of people that need change. Those who are bad. Those who turn out to be useless. Those who are without value but seek value. People who sit on a swivel chair and don¡¯t swivel.¡± He shuddered at the last one. ¡°Those who do not understand their unimportance¡­ Actually, there are quite a few.¡±


    Ark looked at Melmarc. ¡°Those who try and fail to help.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s where the problem is,¡± Dorthna said with a sigh. ¡°Tell me something. Do you know the meaning of your name, Tar¡¯arkna?¡±


    There was something in the way he said the name. It was heavy, demanding attention. Voice serious, Dorthna sounded like someone else. Someone serious. Someone old. Ancient.


    Ark wasn¡¯t exactly sure what was happening, but he knew that he couldn¡¯t joke here or now, not that he wanted to.


    ¡°It means Dying Light,¡± he answered carefully.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Dorthna agreed. ¡°But do you know why it means what it means? Do you know what it means to be a dying light¡ªto be Tar¡¯arkna.¡±


    Ark placed a finger on what Dorthna sounded like now.


    He sounded like an old man. Strong and wise. An elder kept as a part of a tribe¡¯s history to pass on the stories to those who would come before him.


    He sounded ancient and wise.


    ¡°Let me tell you a story, Tar¡¯arkna,¡± Dorthna said.


    His voice dropped into something slow and enthralling. It was a tone you would expect from an aged storyteller. It forced Tar¡¯arkna to listen. There was nothing else but the sound of Dorthna¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Once upon a time,¡± Dorthna began, ¡°in a world eons old and eons away, there was a gentle tribe on a gentle planet. They were unknown, miniscule in the wider macrocosm of lifeforms on their world. They were a simple people. Gifted when it was time to be Gifted. No one knew when they began or where they came from. Who their first progenitor was or where they came from. They were nobody.¡±


    He paused, reached for the table, stopped, then looked down at the cup on the ground. A small smile touched his lips as if looking at something simple but important. Then it was gone.


    ¡°Then one day,¡± he continued, resuming the story as if he¡¯d never paused, ¡°someone strong rose amongst their ranks. He was the first to grow so powerful. In this world they would¡¯ve called him SSS-ranked, maybe even more. Their kind exists across the cosmos in their own way. But their tribe was small and happy in their unimportance. They were happy to be unknown. And this man was happy to be a part of the tribe, to uphold their nature. So, he was quiet, his power used only for what was necessary.¡±


    ¡°Necessary,¡± Ark echoed, his mind focusing on the word.


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°Yes. Necessary. And he lived a long and happy life, growing stronger with every year that passed. Eventually, he lived long enough to become a living part of his tribe¡¯s history, old, powerful, undying.¡±


    ¡°He was immortal.¡± Ark had never heard of an immortal Gifted before, but there was always a speculator here or there that theorized the possibility of a Gifted getting so strong that they become immortal.


    ¡°He was,¡± Uncle Dorthna confirmed, his cup of water seemingly forgotten. ¡°Until powers beyond their world found their way there. Beings with no reason to be in such a world waged war upon each other. The battle was as one would expect, brutal. Mountains crumbled. The skies shifted. The living died and the dead died again in their graves. When a victor emerged alongside a vanquished, their world was nothing but a desolate wasteland. There were survivors to be sure. But they were left in a harsh world, a broken world


    ¡°So they had to grow or leave or die out. And it is not an easy thing leaving a world. It is an almost impossible thing moving an entire people out of a world. So this powerful man who had stood no chance against the two beings that had ruined their world in a single feud made a decision. So he climbed to the tallest of what was left of the mountains, stood upon it, and made a decision. No one knows what he truly did, and if the tribe did, they guard it as their greatest secret to this day. Standing atop the rubbles of his dying world, those who saw claim that a light left him. It shined so bright, filling everything as far as the eye could see. This man was the brightest of light. And witness to his presence, his tribe watched his light die out until all that was left was a man.¡±


    ¡°Did he die?¡± Ark asked, a touch of pity for the man in his voice.


    ¡°Eventually,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°Like every other person, he grew old and passed. Many people asked themselves what his true sacrifice was. Giving up what he had after countless years of living, knowing he was the most powerful for the world, or doing it, and spending the rest of his life as a normal man, a simple man void of even a molecule of mana.¡±


    That was odd as far as Ark knew. Every thing had mana. Even the table his uncle was sitting on. He told his uncle as much.


    ¡°All things have mana, though,¡± he said. ¡°How was he still alive even without mana?¡±


    His uncle shrugged. ¡°Apparently, you can live without mana. You¡¯ll just have a relatively shorter life than most. Regardless, whatever sacrifice that man made on that day bought their world some time, and only his tribe knew of what he had done. Many years later, another rose from amongst their ranks, powerful and strong, she stood at the pinnacle. And a time came when she stood upon the same mountain and let out a light that eventually died. As the years went by, three more did the same until their entire world was aware of what was happening. With each light that died, their world healed a little more, had a little time.¡±


    ¡°They were all dying lights,¡± Ark realized.


    ¡°Yes. And with everything that was happening, the others who shared the same world began to speculate, to wonder if the tribe was grooming the people to become strong, raising sacrifices for their world.¡±


    ¡°Were they?¡± It was a horrible thought, to lead someone to great power only to take it from them.


    Dorthna shook his head. ¡°There is a general concession that power corrupts,¡± he said. ¡°And while that is true, the truly powerful, those who have earned their power, fought and bled for it, are often ever corrupted. The disadvantage of power is that when you get a certain amount of it, you start to see things differently, it becomes deeper the older you get. It is the little things versus the bigger picture. What you see as important or good is different from what your mother will see as important or good.¡±


    ¡°So, they sacrificed themselves?¡± Ark asked.


    ¡°Yes. And the interface of their world made a title out of them.¡± Dorthna smiled something nostalgic. ¡°It was the only thing left to them of their interface until the day they died. The title of dying light, named after the first of them to make the sacrifice. [Tar¡¯arkna].¡±


    ¡°Tar¡¯arkna,¡± Ark repeated.


    Knowing what he now knew, the name sounded different in Ark¡¯s mouth. It had always sounded heavy, weighty. It had always carried with it the importance of being his name. Being the only one named by his uncle, had also carried some weight to it. But it had all been superfluous to him.


    Now, though. Now it was heavy.


    ¡°Why?¡± he found himself asking.


    ¡°Because, like the rest of your siblings¡ªMel and Ninra¡ªI was present at your birth. And I have learnt that bringing life into existence, no matter the species or power, is always a daunting task. Species are often the weakest in those moments.¡± Uncle Dorthna adjusted on his seat, leaned forward and held Ark¡¯s attention with his eyes. ¡°You do not know this story. You should not know this story. But your statement on change has led me to believe that you should know this story. So listen and listen attentively. This is the story of your origin. The story of who you are.¡±


    Ark had not stopped listening for a single moment.


    ¡°When you were born, your mother died¡­¡±


    Ark¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It was nothing so grand,¡± Dorthna said with a dismissive gesture. ¡°It was more like being brain dead. The doctors didn¡¯t even catch it. She was gone for like a second. However, it was long enough to weaken her ties to mana, her Oath-hood, her class. So when she was back, she started dying again.


    ¡°You once said that everything has mana, and you are right. At least everything is born with mana. Some people call it life mana and children lose it as they grow, consuming it as they grow and converting what is left of it into something more normal. You were a healthy baby, full of far too much mana. Personally, I believe you had too much and your mother had been unable to handle it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why she died?¡± It was so weird talking about his mother dying so casually. ¡°Was it also why she was dying?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Dorthna answered. ¡°She was dying because her grasp on the things that kept her alive was slipping away.¡±


    Ark had an idea of where the story was going. He wasn¡¯t foolish enough to not make the connection. ¡°What did I do?¡±


    Dorthna smiled at him. The action was a compliment and Ark knew it.


    ¡°To those who can see it,¡± he said. ¡°The mana of a newborn child is like a bright light that surrounds them. As little as it is, it is a potent thing. To keep your mother alive, to keep what had been your world alive, you gave up your mana. I watched your light die to save your world as I once watched a powerful being¡¯s light die to save theirs. From the moment you were born, you have made the decision, even when you did not know it, to live for those who were important to you. And even now, that has not changed. In the vastness of existence there is a saying that a living being¡¯s potential for evolution is limitless. That potential is in that light at their birth. To save your mother, you gave up your potential, Ark. You gave up any chance you had of ever becoming a Gifted by your own power. That is why you are called dying light. That is why you are Tar¡¯arkna.¡±


    In this moment, Ark understood why words could move people to do the greatest and worst of things. He understood why words motivated people to great lengths. He would¡¯ve liked to say that he now understood the importance of names, but he did not. All he understood was the importance of his name.


    ¡°Does mom know?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Uncle Dorthna answered. ¡°Sometimes I think it is the reason she allowed you keep a pet demon, knowing your father would not like it. They are guardians, and [Dragon Knight] only became a Gifted because her guardian chose her. I¡¯m guessing it is the reason your mother was willing to accept any class a demon would give you. But I could be wrong.¡±


    Ark found himself with a new appreciation for Spitfire, so much so that he wanted to reach under Mel¡¯s bed and rub its head.


    He did not.


    ¡°If you want to change who you are because of a mistake you made, I can¡¯t tell you what to do.¡± Dorthna leaned down and picked his cup up. He frowned at the absence of steam rising from it. ¡°But don¡¯t change because you think the core of who you are is wrong. That would be a wrong line of thought. I know what you are and there is nothing wrong with it. I saw you, watched you, and I named you.¡± He placed a finger against his chest. ¡°I,¡± he turned it and pointed to Ark, ¡°named you, Tar¡¯arkna. You may have no idea now, but that counts for something.¡±


    Ark could not remember the last time he felt so important¡­ so¡­ necessary. Dorthna¡¯s words almost dispelled every atom of guilt he felt from what had happened to Mel. Almost.


    Dorthna got up abruptly, a frown on his face. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, I have to return to the kitchen. My water has grown cold while trying to teach you who you are.¡±


    When he left the room, closing the door behind him, Ark wondered if his water was so cold that he really had to hurry out of the room.


    Choosing not to dwell on it, he turned his attention and looked down at Melmarc.


    ¡°I¡¯m a mess, Mel,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°But I¡¯m not bad.¡±


    Looking down at Melmarc, he noticed a lock of his front hair. It was different from the others. Almost a handful of it was turning white at the roots.


    ¡°I guess you¡¯ll grey early.¡± He chuckled lightly. But it was nothing a good dye couldn¡¯t fix. Ark¡¯s smile continued to play on his lips as he echoed words he¡¯d said mere moments ago. ¡°I¡¯m not bad.¡±


    Spitfire poked its head out from under Mel¡¯s bed and looked up at him. It looked confused, like a child seeing one of their parents happy for no reason, entirely out of the blue.


    Ark was not bad. He knew this, accepted it. And it didn¡¯t matter what any title said. So, to test his resolve, he pulled up the only title he had to his name and the one thing that had really bothered him since earning it.


    [You have slain the demon Taluth and avenged the fallen of the tribe of Neth]


    [You have gained the title Pain of the Dying]


    [Pain of the Dying]


    All emotions have power. You have found your worth. You are fueled by the pain and suffering of the dying.


    [Effect: +2 increase to all stats for every being dying painfully within a certain distance.]


    [Radius: 100 feet.]


    Ark stared at it, spoke to it.


    ¡°I am not bad,¡± he said.


    ¡­


    Pain woke up with a gasp. At least he would¡¯ve gasped if he could, but he didn¡¯t have the necessary will to do so. But he did feel air fill up his lungs. For that, he was grateful.


    The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the pain, but he was always in pain. This one was significantly more so it could not go beyond noticing. It took him half a second to find the reason for the pain. Madness.


    Dead¡­ at¡­ you¡¯re not¡­ least.


    This was the second thing he noticed. His inability to string his thoughts together. Each time he tried to think, the words and the thoughts did not come properly. They were a scattered mess as if each of them was constantly fighting for a place in his mind.


    The third thing he noticed was the warmth that was constantly enveloping him. Most of it was focused on his head, but flickers of it spread around the rest of his body. Pain knew a healing skill when he felt it.


    As distorted as his memories were¡ªscratching their way in a failed attempt to gain some level of coherence¡ªPain could still remember how he had lost. He hadn¡¯t known it until he¡¯d gone unconscious, but he remembered it now.


    The joy of a mother¡¯s touch. Hate that came with wishing to defy your father and failing. The need to covet what was not yours. The urge to lock yourself in a room and burn yourself alive. World domination. The unnerving need to kill the man who¡¯d driven into his stepmother, killing her and one of his siblings. The undying desire to jump off a high place just because you are standing there and it¡¯s just so high. The dissonance of killing the man you do not want to kill.


    It had been countless, bountiful. It had been dissonant. Pain had never wanted something that he did not want so badly in his life. They had all come rushing in. Emotions. Desires. Mathematical equations that made no sense. A single blade of grass that was too tall in a well mowed lawn.


    Everything had gone white in the blink of an eye. Leaving him unable to¡­ exist. He hadn¡¯t lost because he was overwhelmed or because the pain was too much. He¡¯d lost because he¡¯d grown too mad in the blink of an eye to know how to remain conscious.


    [Pain of The World] was an oath skill designed to share half of his pain with whoever he touched. It was part of the reason for the need to draw all the possible pain available into him in other to use it to his fullest. If he worked by that logic, then [World of Madness] had to follow the same rules.


    He had shared half of his pain with Madness, and in return, Madness had shared half of his madness with him.


    Both Oaths had clashed, and Madness had come out superior.


    Pain would¡¯ve shuddered at the memory. And that was just half of it.


    Was it how Madness walked through life at every waking moment?


    His mind was still reeling from the impossibility of it when he noticed another thing. Conversations were still happening around him. From the sliver he was catching, they had continued the meeting regardless of his state. It was so Oath-like of them.


    ¡°All assets I possess within the country,¡± he heard Shield say. ¡°I will draft a transfer of ownership¡ªshares and all¡ªand have it sent over to you.¡±


    ¡°You have money.¡± Aurora¡¯s voice filled the space. ¡°I have money, too. I don¡¯t need yours.¡±


    ¡°Then what do you have in mind?¡± Inevitability¡¯s voice took over.


    ¡°Four punches,¡± Aurora answered easily. ¡°Four. And a request I will make after the punches.¡±


    ¡°You want to punch her?¡± Inevitability asked, confused.


    ¡°I can take it,¡± Shield said almost immediately. ¡°It¡¯s the request that worries me.¡±


    Aurora¡¯s laughter was kind. ¡°Oh, no. Not from me. From my husband.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Inevitability said quickly. ¡°That is¡ª¡±


    ¡°I can take it,¡± Shield said.


    ¡°No!¡± Inevitability hissed, voice sharp. ¡°You might be able to take it. But that is not a risk we are willing to take. Counteroffer?¡±


    The room fell silent for a moment before Aurora answered.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°You are aware of the new school program that we¡¯ve been pushing for, right?¡± Inevitability began.


    ¡°The one that just got approved, funding and all?¡± Aurora clarified.


    ¡°That one.¡± There was a thoughtful pause. ¡°I am aware that, with all due respect, your first son has been scouted by a few schools to be a part of the program, and he has accepted a position at Fallen High.¡±


    ¡°What about it?¡± Aurora asked.


    ¡°What if I make you an offer regarding your other son?¡± Inevitability said. ¡°I am aware of his class and how the world views it. I am also aware that he has not submitted an application to any school of repute. So how about I offer my five naira on the matter?¡±


    Another silence settled on the room. It was pregnant with tension. Everyone present waited even though this conversation had nothing to do with them. Pain felt whatever healing skill was working on him slow down.


    The world waited on the words of the former Oath of War.


    When Aurora dispelled the silence, it was with simple words, vague in their very nature.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening¡­¡±

 ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN: Unreasonable

    Negotiations were on the way. Inevitability tossed and turned words, doing his best to ensure the continued life of his longtime friend, Shield.


    Obedient as ever, or simply inspired by the desire to not die, Shield proved very capable of listening and obeying.


    The main purpose of the meeting¡ªthe one that brought the Oaths together¡ªwas over. Life had been all but accepted into the ranks of the Oaths, which was not as difficult and grand as it sounded. Despite all the posturing and the interrogation at the first meeting, all you really needed to do to become a part of the Oaths was to actually be an Oath. The only way to stop being a part of the gathering was to be an Oath that proved detrimental to the world. Greed was an Oath that fell into that category.


    With the conclusion of the real conversation and purpose for the meeting, some conclusions had been made, mainly the conclusion of how the [August Intruder] was to be handled. In the simplest form of explanation, the [August Intruder] was not to be handled.


    Inevitability had hoped to gain more concessions in the way of the [August Intruder]. Perhaps something that would grant overall access to him on the parts of all the Oaths. Joining the council of Oaths would¡¯ve been such a grand achievement and he would¡¯ve called for more of these meetings, especially now that they no longer had portals to look out for.


    But that was lost now, gone to the winds.


    Aurora¡¯s mockery of if they expected to have the [August Intruder] intern under all the Oaths, while nothing but mockery, had not actually been a bad idea. There was no denying that each Oath present could¡¯ve taught the man a thing or two. They all, in their own rights, were capable of something grand.


    Also, in all honesty, Inevitability was not comfortable with having the Oath of Madness as a point of contact with their theoretical savior. Still, it was fine, Aurora was less Oath and more human, and Madness¡ªunlike the other Oaths¡ªrarely shared his opinion and lines of thoughts. So the [August Intruder¡¯s] sanity was safe.


    As for an interaction with all the Oaths, Inevitability would be a poor liar if he claimed that it was strictly for teaching the [August Intruder] and allowing seamless interactions. In all actuality, it was so that they could witness and deliberate on the necessity and safety that was the presence of an [August Intruder].


    Life had all but said that the person would be necessary for the apocalypse that was to come, but was he really? He did not need to lead them, not in totality. So, if they were to allow him to lead them and grant him nigh absolute power, they needed to know what they were working with.


    Inevitability would be damned if he allowed a tyrant or a person that leaned towards evil to lead the world during these trying times. The safety of the world was just that important. Unfortunately, everything had come crumbling down due to the actions of a child.


    If not for Desolation¡¯s inane choice of attacking Madness and Aurora, he could¡¯ve possibly found a wiggle room to at least achieve something reasonable. But the boy had done something stupid. In his stupidity, he had given Aurora a justification to declare all of them unsafe for the Oath.


    Why did he do it? Inevitability found himself wondering.


    It was stupid to think that it was because of what Life had said regarding the Oath of Madness being the strongest of them all. Of all the old Oaths, even though they liked to deny it a few times, Inevitability knew in the depths of his heart that there was not a single one of them that did not know that Madness was stronger.


    But they also knew that he was not stronger than all of them combined. This was an unshakable truth. Whatever Life had said of the past Oaths of Madness, their Oath of Madness was not strong enough to achieve the feat Life attributed to his Oath. Their Madness was just not that strong¡­ yet.


    Inevitability¡¯s gaze shifted to the body of the dying Oath still gasping for breath on the floor, or at least trying to gasp for breath on the floor. It was hard to tell on account of his face being a mess. Madness had said that the new Oath would live or die by his own will, which was understandable since it had been his own unprovoked will that had brought him to this point in life. But the unsteady rise and fall of his chest as he drew life in with every breath was probably in his favor.


    The Oath would live.


    And if he died? Then that was all he was capable of. The Oaths had lost powerful Oaths before, useful Oaths capable of far greater feats than Desolation might ever even be able to dream of. The portal, [Heaven¡¯s Gate], from all those years ago had cost them far too much.


    More of us would¡¯ve died if not for Madness, Inevitability thought. And in the end, how had they repaid Madness? By allowing some Oath not even a month old to try and disrespect him at this meeting. By allowing Shield stand in his way when his son had been in danger.


    If Inevitability did not currently have a bunch of Oaths standing witness in the room with him, he would¡¯ve cracked under the pressure of their collective stupidity and run a hand through his hair.


    Quite the leader you are.


    On the bright side, Madness had shown unpredictable compassion and allowed¡ªno, demanded¡ªhis treatment at the hands of the Oath of Life. That at least told Inevitability that the Oath had no worrying enmity towards them for what had happened.


    That was a good thing. That was a win in his book.


    With a mental sigh, Inevitability brought himself back to the new dilemma he was fighting: the dilemma of how to save Shield¡¯s life.


    Because a few direct hits from Madness was basically asking her to risk her life. It was unreasonable, unless you knew War and Madness. Well, unless you knew War. Everything was unreasonable in Madness and that was what you learnt when you knew Madness.


    As for War, it was justifiable. By preventing War from saving their son, Shield had irredeemably allowed their son to risk his life when all the odds had been stacked against him. It was only fair that in return, Shield risk her life when all the odds are stacked against her.


    All these could¡¯ve been avoidable if Shield had just been properly diplomatic about her approach. Alas, he was arguably at fault. He had been the one to send her.


    An SS-rank portal turning into a Chaos Run when that oddly worrying monster kept on coming out and searching for only God knew what was not something they were willing to risk.


    And from what Shield had told him of its casual disregard for her even after she¡¯d established her dominion as an Oath, there was no way they were willing to risk its continued appearance. They couldn¡¯t fight it off because it was not interested in chaos and destruction. It came, sniffed around, and left. They also couldn¡¯t hold it down long enough to fight it because they had no idea what it wanted so they couldn¡¯t bait it.


    Then again, did they really want to fight it?


    ¡°And this offer is something you think will save Shield?¡± Aurora asked, baiting Inevitability.


    Pulling himself from his multitude of thoughts, Inevitability almost nodded but he caught himself before he did.


    ¡°The continued comfort and safety off all the Oaths remains my aim,¡± he answered diplomatically. ¡°But this isn¡¯t about saving Shield. I am simply presenting an apology. Appeasement in the place of vengeance.¡±


    Aurora cocked a brow as a show of interest. ¡°Appeasement in place of vengeance,¡± she echoed.


    Inevitability nodded. ¡°Even if we agreed to your conditions regarding Shield accepting what you offered, all it would leave us with is superficial satisfaction. My counter offer will leave us with useful appeasement.¡±


    She leaned forward, set her elbows on the table. ¡°And what if this punishment is the fitting one?¡±


    ¡°You are no longer War, Aurora,¡± he said with a shake of his head. ¡°You are no longer so dominated by your concept that you would not temper justice with reason. In that, I can at least agree that you have found a luck greater than ours.¡±


    Beside her, Madness was slowly dripping blood all over the table. It hadn¡¯t been a long while since his fight with Pain, but it looked like the effect of whatever Pain had done to him had still not worn off. Blood still dripped in slow trickles from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.


    Inevitability would admit to being slightly worried. Especially since Madness had not requested any healing for himself.


    ¡°You spoke of your special program,¡± Aurora said finally, something about the moment of her words felt as if she only said them to draw his attention from Madness and back to her. ¡°I¡¯m glad to learn that you have gained permission from the schools and governments to achieve it. I remember how much you pushed for it, how much you needed it to be inevitable. Congratulations.¡±


    Inevitability accepted her congratulations with a slight bow of his head. ¡°It was difficult, but I found success.¡±


    ¡°After far too many sacrifices,¡± Shield muttered.


    Not for the first time, Inevitability thought of just how childish she could be in matters concerning him. But he rarely ever commented on it.


    ¡°So what is this offer?¡± Aurora asked. ¡°If I remember correctly, this program of yours is designed for those with unranked classes and unique classes.¡±


    ¡°As well as those with unranked classes and unranked growth potentials,¡± Inevitability amended. When Aurora gave him an empty look, he added: ¡°There has been an appearance of Gifted children with unranked growth potential and classes. As for those with only unranked growth potentials, they are only allowed in the place where their class rank is S.¡±


    ¡°And our second child falls short of it by two ranks,¡± Aurora said in conclusion.


    Inevitability nodded. ¡°However, I believe that I am in a place to pull strings to have him admitted into Fallen High, under special circumstances.¡±


    ¡°And no one will bat an eye?¡± she asked, skeptical. ¡°It sounds like a lot.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t really be so difficult a task to achieve,¡± Inevitability said with a shrug. ¡°Due to researches conducted by those capable of conducting them, it is our belief that there is another class of Gifted that just might require special attention during these trying times.¡±


    That caught Aurora¡¯s attention. ¡°I¡¯m listening. What class is this?¡±


    ¡°The [Invoker] class,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Really? I¡¯m aware of the speculations around the class, but are they that necessary?¡± Aurora sat back with folded arms. Her eyes darted to her husband very briefly, checking on him. Madness still had his eyes on his console, but his fingers were no longer active. If it worried her, she kept the worry from her expression. ¡°The [Invoker] class has always been its own type of enigma, especially with the faith stats, but I don¡¯t think that is enigmatic enough to warrant such attention.¡±


    ¡°Normally it won¡¯t be,¡± Inevitability agreed. ¡°In fact, a lot of people had pushed against the class¡¯ admittance saying that I was turning something good into a way of handling my own personal curiosity. But things have changed ever since the arrival of the [August Intruder].¡±


    Aurora was no longer the only one listening so raptly. While the other Oaths present had been listening merely to see the outcome of the conversation, they now looked interested in the conversation itself.


    ¡°What changed?¡± Aurora asked.


    ¡°There have been reports of those with the [Invoker] class experiencing a sudden rise in these faith points of theirs,¡± he explained. ¡°Now, a lot of people are not aware of this, but the rise started popping up among the class after the arrival of the [August Intruder]. I¡¯m willing to bet all that I have that they have something in common.¡±


    A frown crossed Life¡¯s face. It looked contemplative. Surprisingly, the old man said nothing. For a man who was always more than happy to flaunt his knowledge cryptically and say anything when he had the chance, it was suspicious.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    He knew something, something he could not share. Either that or he really needed to focus on healing Pain or was a little too scared of Madness right now.


    ¡°So, we¡¯ve decided that it would not be a bad idea to train them specially and see what we can do in order to find the secret of this growth,¡± Inevitability finished.


    ¡°What is the highest recorded growth?¡± Aurora asked.


    ¡°Eight points? Why? Do you know someone with the class?¡±


    Aurora shook her head. ¡°Just a question of curiosity. And I know a lot of Gifted with the [Invoker] class. For some, eight isn¡¯t really I high growth, especially when you consider how much they¡¯ve grown.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Inevitability agreed. ¡°But it is a high growth when you consider the fact that the faith stat does not grow. What you get is what you have.¡±


    ¡°Is there something you would like to add, Life?¡± Grace asked, shifting the attention of the entire room to the old man.


    It took Inevitability a moment to realize why that made sense. She had a point. The [Invoker] class was only one of two classes with faith stats. The [Priest] class was the second one.


    ¡°The [Priest] class also has faith stats,¡± Inevitability noted. ¡°Are you willing to shed some light on this matter for us?¡±


    Life did not look up from his task. ¡°Only that I experienced the same growth upon the establishment of dominance by the [August Intruder].¡± He frowned. ¡°It was a growth of six points. I will admit to being disappointed to hear that the [Invoker] class has a higher recorded growth number than the [Priest] class.¡±


    ¡°Probably because I have not been looking into the [Priest] class,¡± Inevitability said. ¡°I have never truly been a fan of meddling in the affairs of priests, by class or by vocation. Perhaps I should look into it.¡±


    ¡°The highest recorded amongst the known [Priest] class is me at six points.¡± Life still didn¡¯t look up. ¡°It is a worrying thing to find that I still possess a certain level of envy and self importance after so many years of living. That I would feel bad to know that there are those more important than me in certain ways where I should matter, leaves an unpleasant feeling.¡±


    ¡°For all you years alive,¡± Grace said gently, ¡°all it says is that you are still human. And that is a good thing.¡±


    ¡°Oh, believe me,¡± Life muttered under his breath. ¡°You have no idea just how good of a thing it is.¡±


    ¡°Priests, by vocation, are the middlemen between the people and their gods, right?¡± Language asked, adding her opinion. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that the vocation was created in emulation of the class.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it was,¡± Life answered.


    ¡°So, if the arrival of the [August Intruder] is leading to a rise in faith points in classes like the [Priest], does that mean that this person just might be some kind of a god?¡±


    A new silence fell upon the room at Language¡¯s words. Inevitability had considered that possibility. But that idea of the [August Intruder] being a god felt a little too daunting. The old Oaths knew of the demi-gods, and anyone who knew about demi-gods definitely knew that if there were demi-gods, then there were gods.


    The worrying thing was that there were no worlds belonging to the demi-gods that they had met that had experienced a good outcome. Their ends were always so¡­ grave.


    All eyes settled on Aurora.


    The former Oath looked lost in thought.


    ¡°I doubt that to be the case,¡± she said, clearly hiding something. ¡°But I would not put it beyond the realm of possibilities. There are records of some Oaths being worshipped as gods in some civilizations. It has always been¡ª¡±


    Madness placed his console casually on the table and wiped the blood from his still bleeding nose with the back of his hand. It was always so eerie how the slightest change in the Oath¡¯s actions always drew everyone¡¯s attention.


    Looking down at the blood on the back of his hand, Madness¡¯ expression seemed to twitch. It was so minute that if you asked Inevitability to say what exactly had twitched about it, he would not be able to state what it was categorically.


    Slowly, Madness got up from his chair. He placed a gentle hand on Aurora¡¯s shoulder, then slowly walked out of the room. The Oaths watched him go.


    Inevitability wondered how many people thought of convincing Life to heal Desolation in Madness¡¯ absence. He also wondered how many people remembered Aurora¡¯s presence and turned down the idea.


    But most importantly, while Madness¡¯ hand placement on his wife¡¯s shoulder had seemed like nothing out of the blue, just a husband placing a hand on his wife¡¯s shoulder, he wondered how many people might have read something different in the action.


    Why? Because for a moment, for some reason, it had felt as if Madness had done it for actual physical support.


    If that was true, then it brought another question to Inevitability¡¯s mind.


    Just what did Pain hit him with?


    Once Madness was gone, a sudden tension left the room. Aurora¡¯s eyes settled on the blood on the table. There was something sad in them. Her eyes were not rheumy, neither were they droopy. They were just¡­ sad.


    Then the sadness was gone. She reached across the table and retrieved the gaming console. She took a moment to look at whatever was on the screen before placing it face down in front of her.


    ¡°The [August Intruder] is no god,¡± she said, returning seamlessly to the conversation. ¡°At least they do not seem or look like any kind of god we know right now.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡± Shock cut across Language¡¯s face. ¡°What the hell?¡±


    ¡°Yes, what the hell?¡± Fear repeated. ¡°Gods are real?¡±


    Inevitability dismissed their shock with a wave of his hand as if chasing a fly away. ¡°We have no confirmation on that. But Demi-gods are real. We¡¯ve met a few.¡±


    ¡°Killed a few, too,¡± Grace added.


    ¡°Do they give benefits?¡± Fear asked.


    Language nodded vigorously. ¡°Do they drop loots?¡±


    ¡°All your questions will be answered eventually,¡± Inevitability said, silencing them. ¡°For now, we are addressing a different subject.¡± He turned to Aurora. ¡°What I was trying to say before we went astray is that I can get your son a spot in Fallen High, if you wish it.¡±


    ¡°Why Fallen High?¡±


    Inevitability did not understand where she was going with the question. It sounded like a trick question.


    ¡°It¡¯s the best Gifted school in your country,¡± he answered, still slightly confused. ¡°They have the best educational numbers as well as the best Gifted to Delver conversion rate. And a high percentage of their Gifted who go on to become Delvers are comfortably successful. I figured you would want the best for him and want to keep him closer to home. And the special program is quite literally designed to create the best in the chosen schools.¡±


    ¡°And what if he doesn¡¯t want Fallen High?¡±


    Inevitability was a little stomped. It took him a moment to remember that not all families were the same. In his family, growing up you did not necessarily get to pick the school you wanted to go to. You could suggest it to your parents, but in the best case scenario, they gave you a list of schools to pick from that sometimes weren¡¯t even more than five, and you hoped that they weren¡¯t testing your ability to make a good decision, and they actually sent you to the school you wanted.


    ¡°I have enough connections to get him into any good school of your choice,¡± he answered. ¡°And before you talk about how you¡¯re connected, too. I do remember, for a fact, that you and Madness don¡¯t like pulling strings directly or calling in favors unless you absolutely have to. This is not pulling strings or calling in favors, this is an Oath making amends for an action wrongfully taken.¡±


    Aurora paused, thoughtful. ¡°Make it access to all the schools with the program he can get to choose from and I can forego the initial punishment.¡±


    ¡°All the schools?¡± Inevitability almost frowned. That would take a lot of phone calls to set up.


    Aurora nodded. ¡°Deal?¡±


    ¡°Deal.¡± It wasn¡¯t like he was in a position to say no. Besides, he could do it, it would just be stressful.


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Inevitability could already feel the stress that would come from making all the calls before finally making a decision. The principals of these powerful schools were, in a way, like Oaths, drunk on their measly powers. Then he would have to offend a few when he would call them back to tell them that he no longer needed their space.


    Sometimes he understood the ease that came with ruling with the threat of power and not the care of diplomacy. It led those weaker than you to mistake your diplomacy for weakness.


    ¡°Now,¡± he said, moving the conversation along. ¡°You said something about a second request.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Aurora confirmed. ¡°The first request was actually meant to be a punishment for the person who had committed the crime and the second a punishment for the crime itself.¡±


    ¡°Then what is the second?¡±


    ¡°Eight years ago, a Chaos Run broke out in the east of Asia¡ª¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Shield said almost instantaneously before Aurora could finish. ¡°You cannot.¡±


    ¡°And yet I am,¡± Aurora said, unshaken. ¡°But rest assured, I will not clean you out.¡±


    Inevitability thought about it, knowing exactly what the both of them were arguing about. After a while, he shook his head. ¡°She has a point, Aurora,¡± he said.


    Aurora cocked an ominous brow at him. ¡°She has a point?¡±


    ¡°She does,¡± Inevitability said because Shield actually had a point this time. ¡°She almost lost her life putting the creature down. It is unreasonable to ask her to surrender the reward for it to her.¡±


    ¡°Unreasonable?¡± Aurora repeated with a very low hiss, a very slow building rage that exploded like a thousand fireworks. ¡°UNREASONABLE?!¡± She slammed her fist on the desk. ¡°YOU SPEAK TO ME OF UNREASONABLE?¡±


    ¡°Aurora¡ª¡± Grace began, only to be silenced by a scathing look from Aurora.


    ¡°You will hold your tongue, Grace, or I will hold it for you, and the world will not protect you from it.¡± Then she rounded on Inevitability. ¡°I will abandon this gathering. I and my husband. We will wash our hands of everything that has to do with the Oaths. You will not find us when we do, because you know that you cannot. We will go into portals we want to go into and appear only where we want to be.¡±


    ¡°You would doom the world over this?¡± Inevitability asked.


    Aurora seemed to bare her teeth. ¡°I will watch the world burn if it keeps my family alive. Do not question that for a second.¡±


    Inevitability did not understand what was happening. This made no sense. ¡°Logic guides you, Aurora,¡± he said, trying a different strategy. ¡°Your punishments are never without reason.¡±


    ¡°You speak to me of reason?¡± she hissed. ¡°You condemn a child to almost certain death by standing in the way of his father saving him and ask his mother to handle you with reason? With REASON?!¡±


    She was already halfway out of her seat. Inevitability saw it then. She was like a wild animal, a mother protecting or avenging her child.


    She was right. You did not threaten a child¡¯s life and ask their mother for reason. That was unreasonable.


    ¡°Shield,¡± Inevitability said with a sigh.


    ¡°Chetam, no,¡± Shield was quick to protest. ¡°She cannot¡ª¡±


    He turned to her, held her face in his so that he looked into her eyes. It was the most intimate form of physical contact he¡¯d ever had with her since he¡¯d become an Oath.


    ¡°You may not understand this,¡± he said. ¡°But I want you to try. What would you give to punish someone that killed your child?¡±


    ¡°But her child didn¡¯t¡ª¡±


    Inevitability¡¯s hold on her face hardened, silencing her. ¡°You might as well have. The possibility of your child dying because someone stood in your way preventing you from helping is almost as terrible as the child dying because someone stood in your way preventing you from helping. Do you understand?¡±


    Shield was silent for a moment. She looked into his eyes. Then something changed. Once she was looking at him in his eyes simply because he held her attention, now she was looking into his eyes for a different reason.


    Inevitability did not know what the reason was but he recognized the look. It was soft, forlorn. It was the look of regret. The look of wishing upon shooting stars yet knowing your wishes would not come through. She looked at him that way sometimes.


    Finally, the soft look grew saddened. Ruth, the Oath of Shield, grew sad.


    By the life of him, she understood. It was incredulous. Inevitability had not thought that she would.


    Not taking her eyes away from him, she answered, speaking to Aurora. ¡°You can have the guardian¡¯s corpse. Make whatever weapons you will from it.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Aurora said. ¡°Then I believe our meeting is concluded.¡±


    ¡°I will have it sent to you before the end of next month,¡± she said. ¡°I will have you know that I am yet to find a crafter capable of making anything decent out of it without charging an unreasonable price. And I¡¯ve spoken to [Unbound] and he¡¯s let me know that even Dolapo won¡¯t touch the thing with a ten foot pole. And she¡¯s the only one I know that can craft the best thing out of it.¡±


    ¡°Dolakpo,¡± Inevitability said, correcting her pronunciation.


    He had come to learn that it was better to hear a Yoruba name before learning its spelling than to learn its spelling before hearing its name when it came to a lot of non-Nigerians that he knew.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about my ability to find a fitting [Crafter],¡± Aurora said, picking up Madness¡¯ gaming console and standing up and moving away from her chair. ¡°Like Inevitability said, I have connections. As for the transportation of the corpses, we will send Fendor.¡±


    ¡°From Madness¡¯ team?¡± Inevitability asked.


    ¡°Of course,¡± she confirmed. ¡°He has the best teleportation skill I¡¯ve ever seen. I believe it is also a given that they are not to be punished or discriminated against for standing with my husband to save my son.¡±


    That was actually a no-brainer as far as Inevitability was concerned. The aim of making the Oaths have teams was for the Oaths to have people that would die for them. The actions of an Oath¡¯s team in their name was the responsibility of the Oath.


    ¡°They are not liable for their actions,¡± Inevitability confirmed.


    ¡°Good.¡± Aurora looked at everyone present and nodded. ¡°Meeting adjourned.¡±


    With that, she left the room.


    She hadn¡¯t even looked at Desolation still fighting for his life on the floor.


    Inevitability hoped that the new Oath would survive in time for them to get him someone with the [Healer] class. A [Mage] would¡¯ve sufficed but the only [Mage] currently around didn¡¯t have a healing skill or spell. And even if he did, he was in no position to use them on account of still being healed by Life.


    It also didn¡¯t take any brain power to know that even in their absence, Life would not defy Madness¡¯ instruction not to save Desolation.


    Inevitability pulled out his mobile cell phone and turned it on.


    Sheild looked at him. ¡°Who are you calling?¡±


    ¡°A [Healer] I know,¡± he answered. ¡°Someone has to save Desolation¡¯s life. Then, once he¡¯s capable of thinking again, he and I will have words regarding his blatant life threatening stupidity.¡±


    Shield looked down at Desolation and grimaced.


    ¡°If he¡¯s capable of thinking again.¡±


    The Oath was in a terrible state.


    ¡­


    In twenty-four hours, the small stain of white at the roots of a handful of Melmarc¡¯s hair had grown by more than an inch. Ark had watched it happen with some trepidation.


    When he¡¯d pointed it out to their Uncle Dorthna, he had given it a long hard look before dismissing it as nothing harmful.


    ¡°If anything,¡± he¡¯d said. ¡°It might be beneficial for him. It just says that his body handles pure mana better than most.¡±


    At some point, Ark had¡ªagainst his better judgement¡ªlifted Mel¡¯s eyelids to make sure his eyes had also not been turning white. He was happy to find only hazel eyes staring back at him. Those with the [Faker] class were not generally liked among the Gifted. He could only imagine how people would treat someone with the [Faker] class as well as white eyes.


    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m just worrying too much,¡± he thought as he climbed his bed.


    A few hours ago, Mel¡¯s pupils had moved behind his eyes, which was a good sign. Hopefully, tomorrow something better would happen.


    Ark closed his eyes to sleep for the night, and called out in a quiet voice. ¡°Good night, Spitfire.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t expecting a response from the demon. Even though Spitfire spoke to him telepathically, it was on rare occasions and with a lexicon and tone that told him that it was a child. Or at least had the mind of one.


    Wondering which of Melmarc¡¯s shirts was currently suffering under the wrath of Spitfire¡¯s teeth, he turned, hoping it was nothing important, and froze.


    For reasons completely unknown to him, Spitfire was lying comfortably on top of Mel. It had never done that before.


    He wondered if there was something special happening that was leading it to lie down on top of Mel. After all, it had only started lying down on his own body when he went to sleep after it had helped him become a Gifted.


    Knowing that no harm would come to Mel while Spitfire slept on top of him, Ark turned and allowed himself to fall asleep.


    Ark had questions. With the white marks growing up a lock of Melmarc¡¯s hair, Uncle Dorthna¡¯s statement of it being a good sign, and Spitfire sleeping on top of Mel, it was only fair that he had questions.


    So, as sleep took him, Ark wondered if something was currently happening to his brother.

 ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN: Reach For The Heavens

    Once upon a time, Uncle Dorthna had told a lovingly beautiful tale of a simple world. At least he had called the world simple. According to his story, it was a world filled with one people. They were religious, their actions and decisions guided by the words of the two false gods they worshipped. Yes. They themselves called both gods false gods. As for whether the gods were truly false, Uncle Dorthna had given no clarification.


    The inhabitants of the world were a race of pale, yellow skins. With three legs and four arms, they stood as tall as eight feet, sometimes ten. In Uncle Dorthna¡¯s own words, whether they were some out of the way descendants of the infamous Asura or not was anyone¡¯s guess.


    This race was called the Elvians, and they were a peaceful race. Conflicts were solved with the decorum of intellectual battles. Debates were often used, but rarely, as they believed that as sound of mind and intellect as debates were, they were, ultimately, a matter of opinions. So, they had games. Countless and created in multitudes as they were, these games served as their battlefield.


    Their games were designed to test them, rule them, control them. These games were designed to help them keep themselves in check, for as a race, they were averse to violence, to conflicts and wars. But when Uncle Dorthna spoke of the games that were most often used, it brought questions. If as a race you had games more complicated than chess or shogi, more demanding of physical prowess than races or weightlifting, why were the games of intellect if choice as terrifying as deducing the chemical compounds presently interacting within an active volcano without the use of any apparatus but your mind and the body you were born with?


    So, it came as no surprise to anyone when Uncle Dorthna clarified that while the race was averse to violence and wars and conflict, they were not incapable of it. They were a ¡®simple¡¯ race on a simple world made popular by how easily they had dominated their own portals.


    In the simplest of explanations, they had possessed no recorded Chaos Runs in their history.


    With the story, Uncle Dorthna had taught the children of Madness and War, that while you should not seek out violence, you should learn to be capable of it, to be confident in it. You should learn to wear it as a mantle when you need to.


    So, he had used this story to explain to them the reason their parents were sending them to learn self-defense.


    The Elvians were the creatures on Melmarc¡¯s mind when he opened his eyes. A race averse to violence but more capable of it than they had any right to be. Scholarly warriors, Uncle Dorthna had called them.


    Melmarc groaned as the light from the window hit his eyes, slowly washing away the thought of the Elvians. It was the harsh brightness of the afternoon sun. He could note the heat that came with it but could not feel it.


    When he drew in a deep breath, his throat was clear, and his lungs felt clean. The breath was so refreshing that he took in two more, each one deeper than the last. He would¡¯ve taken a fourth breath if the third had not filled him with pinpricks of pain all over his chest and his sides.


    The points of pain were countless and elicited a grunt from his lips. Reflexively, his muscles tightened from the pain and seemed to cramp up. His eyes widened as the cramp spread all over his torso, embracing him like a vest that was two sizes two small and constantly growing tighter.


    Melmarc opened his mouth, gasped for air as he fought off the pain with nothing but his mental will. When nothing happened, he clamped his mouth shut and breathed through his nostrils with gritted teeth.


    Counting each breath, he tried to focus on something else. It was his hope that if he could focus on something other than the pain, his muscles would relax on their own. It took him only two breaths to know that it would not work. Then panic set in.


    Melmarc closed his eyes and tried to struggle, to push and pull and toss and turn. He tried anything. Unfortunately, the moment he began, new pain shot through him. This time, it was in the form of a throbbing headache. Like a thousand drums beating in a steady rhythm to a marching parade, his head vibrated with every throb. His vision waned as the pain assaulted him on two fronts and his lids grew heavy.


    When a weight settled on his chest, Melmarc couldn¡¯t help the tear that slipped from one of his eyes. It was not the pain that birthed the tear but the helplessness in the pain. There was something daunting about being in pain and being unable to do anything about it.


    There was something saddening about being helpless.


    Surprisingly, there was no third pain. It did not come as he¡¯d expected it to. Instead, he felt a slippery rubbing against his chest like the feel of a very slimy tongue. Even held in the clutches of his own pain, he was curious to know who would be licking him at a time like this.


    Peeling his eyes open through the pain, he found Spitfire licking his chest as if it was licking a particularly fine piece of meat. The demon lifted its head to look at him. Eyes of a starry night met Melmarc¡¯s and held his gaze. Melmarc focused on those eyes even as his teeth remained gritted against his pain.


    Without breaking eye contact, Spitfire bent its head a little lower and licked his chest once more. The feeling of being licked was another thing to focus on besides the pain. With those starry eyes and the sensation of being licked, Melmarc distracted himself from the pain. It was still there, but the helplessness was waning. The inability to do anything to help himself was flickering like a dying candle.


    Spitfire licked his chest three more times before finally stopping. Breaking eye contact, it looked to the side and, surprisingly, only then did Melmarc really think about where he was.


    Leaping off his chest, Spitfire hit the ground and ran out of the room. Hopefully to get help. It took a moment to stop at the door only to look at him once more. After a while, it cocked its head to the side as if in thought, shrugged¡ªat least it looked like it did¡ªthen left the room.


    It took Melmarc a moment to realize that the pain that had taken him in its hands and began molding him in a sea of helplessness had subsided. Whether it was because of what the demon had done or because of the distraction, he did not care to know. In fact, he feared that if he really thought about it and it turned out to be the distraction, the realization would bring the pain back.


    So, Melmarc did something else. He turned his attention to his surroundings, trying to ignore the fact that he was trying to ignore the pain. Surprisingly, it came easier than he thought.


    At some point in time someone had removed his short, leaving his torso bare and placed him back in his room. Ark was not the best at house chores and needed a lot of motivation to engage in the chores left to him consistently so there was no surprise that the room wasn¡¯t at its cleanest. Over the years¡ªto their parents¡¯ chagrin¡ªMelmarc had practically usurped Ark¡¯s chores from him.


    It had been his defense that Ark was only going to do a poor job of it. His parents said that he was spoiling his older brother. Ninra said she would smack him over the head but never did. Uncle Dorthna didn¡¯t care if the house was as dusty as a desert or as clean as ¡®the surface of the heavenly road.¡¯ His words.


    The books resting on the reading table were stacked in three rows. Each row looked like they had been done in a hurry, a rush job performed by someone who simply wanted to get a task out of the way.


    Beside him, Ark¡¯s bed was dressed very poorly in clean blue sheets. It had two to three rumple lines spanning its width at the middle as if Ark had tucked it in at the sides but had not done a proper job of tucking it at the top and bottom ends. Once upon a time, this very thing had constantly irked Melmarc to the point that Ark had begun considering the possibility of him having OCD.


    ¡°It¡¯s just annoying to look at,¡± Ninra had hissed in response, smacking him behind the head. ¡°Dress your bed properly.¡±


    At least the pillows are arranged properly, Melmarc thought, turning his head to the other side of the room.


    With the doors to their wardrobe closed, he had no idea if there was a tidy mess inside or an arranged set of clothes.


    All around, the room was acceptably neat if not for a few traces of dust here and there. Ark had not been very diligent in wiping down the room. Melmarc almost made a mental excuse for him.


    Letting out a sigh, Melmarc turned his head back in place and stared up at the ceiling. He had been avoiding it long enough, but it was now time to address the important question: How had he gotten in bed feeling so much pain?


    After a few seconds of thinking, the answer came to him like a wish from a shooting star. He had no idea.


    All he could remember was a conversation with Ark and a visit from a tall person.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad to find you alive.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s attention moved to the door to his room at the sound of his uncle¡¯s voice. Standing there in baggy jeans and an oversized brown short sleeved shirt, his uncle leaned against the edge of the open door with folded arms.


    Melmarc cocked a quizzical brow. ¡°Is that Dad¡¯s shirt?¡±


    ¡°How are you sure its not yours?¡± Dorthna asked instead of giving him an answer. ¡°You¡¯re something of a monster of a boy, too, you know.¡±


    Melmarc took a very short moment to take the shirt in. He had a similar brown shirt, too. But the dimensions were wrong. If he wore the shirt it would be a little too large on him.


    Shaking his head very slowly, he said, ¡°It¡¯s not mine. It¡¯s too big.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you still possess brain functions.¡± Uncle Dorthna nodded like a doctor checking off symptoms. ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s your dad¡¯s shirt. He¡¯s not back so I¡¯ve been playing around in his closet.¡±


    That was¡­ confusing. Uncle Dorthna never played around in their parents¡¯ room. In fact, as childish as he could be, it was clear that he was only childish because Ark and Melmarc were childish. Apart from that, his childishness was in his nonchalance.


    ¡°Why are we playing in dad¡¯s closet?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Because we can.¡± Uncle Dorthna walked into the room. He took a moment to peek outside before closing the door behind him. ¡°Think of it as me trying something new.¡±


    Melmarc frowned. Uncle Dorthna didn¡¯t try new things. Not really.


    ¡°Should I be worried, Uncle D?¡± he asked.


    His uncle snorted in amusement. ¡°You¡¯re the one with a broken leg, kid.¡±


    ¡°Yet you¡¯re the one trying new¡­¡± Melmarc¡¯s words trailed off as his eyes widened in confusion. ¡°Wait¡­ what? What do you mean?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna paused as if he¡¯d just said something that he shouldn¡¯t. He waved Melmarc¡¯s worry aside.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± he said as he came closer. ¡°It¡¯s just a flesh wound.¡±


    Panic crawled up from Melmarc¡¯s stomach and settled on his tongue. ¡°A flesh wound?¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t usually this panicky,¡± his uncle pointed out, not looking at his face. ¡°Or were you always this panicky and I just didn¡¯t know?¡±


    Melmarc was not always this panicky, and with good reason. A reason he was more than happy to tell his uncle.


    ¡°I don¡¯t always wake up with my shirt missing and being told that I have a broken leg,¡± he pointed out.


    Then there was a sudden burst of pain in his side. It was a flash, heavy, yet gone as if it was never there. It reminded him of being hit with a powerful blow while under the effect of [Knowledge is Power]. Oddly enough, he knew where the pain was coming from.


    Melmarc frowned as he looked at his uncle. ¡°What happened to your side?¡± he asked.


    ¡°My side?¡± Uncle Dorthna asked, slightly confused.


    ¡°Your side,¡± Melmarc repeated more confused than his uncle looked. ¡°Why does it hurt? And why am I feeling it?¡±


    His uncle slipped his hand under his shirt and rubbed his side gently from within. ¡°You can feel it?¡±


    Melmarc nodded very slowly worried that he would suddenly begin feeling his own pain.


    ¡°I guess we can add the concept of pain to the list,¡± his uncle muttered. ¡°Not really the concept I would¡¯ve advised getting next.¡±


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ¡°What do you mean the concept of pain?¡±


    ¡°As an [August Intruder], you will gain concepts,¡± his uncle said, removing his hand from inside his shirt. ¡°Pain is one of many.¡±


    Melmarc knew about the concepts and gaining them. He knew of the Oaths and a thing or two about how they worked. He¡¯d since deduced that he had his father¡¯s Madness and his mother¡¯s War.


    Now he had pain?


    ¡°Does that mean I¡¯ll be feeling people¡¯s pain?¡± It was a daunting thought.


    Uncle Dorthna shrugged. ¡°In a manner of speaking.¡±


    He still wasn¡¯t looking at Melmarc. Not really. His eyes continued to settle on a spot just above his head.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t like the idea of feeling everybody¡¯s pain.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Dorthna bent at the waist so that he hovered over Melmarc. ¡°What do you remember?¡±


    ¡°Elvians,¡± Melmarc said without missing a beat.


    ¡°Elv¡­¡± Uncle Dorthna¡¯s words trailed off as he took on a thoughtful expression. He was silent for a while before speaking again. ¡°That is an odd thing to remember. I think I told you about those guys when you were what¡­ ten?¡±


    ¡°Eight,¡± Melmarc corrected.


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°Eight. Kind of odd that you¡¯ll be remembering the intellectual warriors right now, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve shrugged if he didn¡¯t think the action would kindle some kind of new pain that he was not aware of. He was still stuck on the fact that he had a broken leg that he was not feeling.


    ¡°Moving on,¡± Uncle Dorthna declared suddenly, still leaning over him. ¡°What else do you remember?¡±


    A thoughtful line creased Melmarc¡¯s brows as he thought about it, knowing exactly what his uncle was asking for.


    ¡°I was talking to Ark,¡± he said slowly.


    ¡°About?¡± his uncle urged.


    Melmarc didn¡¯t have to think about that. ¡°We were talking about my mentorship program and the [Sage] I worked with.¡±


    ¡°[Sages], interesting people,¡± Uncle Dorthna commented as if on a side note. ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°We talked about the tasks I did and how I went undercover.¡± Melmarc smiled. Now that he thought about it, his life was beginning to sound like something you would watch in a movie or read in a comic. ¡°Then we talked about how I got stuck in a portal¡­¡±


    His uncle still wasn¡¯t looking at him, focusing instead on a spot above his head. Was he looking at his hair?


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± his uncle said, urging him on. ¡°What else?¡±


    ¡°Then we talked about the creature¡¯s I saw in the portal,¡± Melmarc continued. ¡°We talked about the terrain, what the place was¡­¡± Melmarc frowned. Had they talked about the terrain? ¡°I think¡­ I don¡¯t think we talked about the terrain,¡± he amended. ¡°We talked about the monsters, though.¡±


    ¡°Did you talk about fighting the monsters?¡± his uncle asked.


    Melmarc nodded very slowly as he remembered the [Damned]. A sharp memory pierced his mind and he felt his chest tighten. He could feel the pain from the blow he had taken to the chest. It was tight. Painful.


    His eyes moved to the foot of his bed and he was suddenly alert. The [Damned] hadn¡¯t come out at him from out of nowhere. It hadn¡¯t ambushed him. They¡¯d been fighting and he¡¯d made a wrong step, a costly mistake¡­ right?


    There had been a very small chance that he wouldn¡¯t have survived it. A chance that he would¡¯ve died. What he needed to do was strike first and strike fast. Especially now, if they had somehow followed him back home. It was an impossible thought but portals often worked in strange ways. The monsters found within them, too.


    So, if the [Damned] had followed him back, what he had to do was¡ª


    ¡°Ow!¡± Melmarc exclaimed with a grimace as his uncle flicked him on the forehead with a finger. ¡°What was that for?¡±


    ¡°You need therapy,¡± Uncle Dorthna said with a frown. The words were surprising because, like Ninra, his uncle didn¡¯t believe in therapy.


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe in therapy,¡± Melmarc pointed out. ¡°And I don¡¯t think I¡­¡±


    Melmarc trailed off as Uncle Dorthna pointed at the foot of his bed. ¡°You looked in that direction and started gearing for a fight. Who are we trying to beat?¡±


    There was nothing at the foot of his bed, but Melmarc already knew that. He wasn¡¯t trying to beat anybody.


    But you thought the [Damned] had followed you back, he thought in a slow growing realization.


    ¡°But you don¡¯t believe in therapy,¡± he repeated.


    His uncle moved back and sat comfortably on Ark¡¯s bed. ¡°I believe in therapy,¡± he said casually. ¡°What I don¡¯t believe in is your world¡¯s version of therapy. Why would I want to go sit down in front of some random stranger and talk to them about my problems?¡±


    ¡°Because they know how to handle problems?¡± Melmarc tried.


    His uncle sighed. ¡°So why not talk to someone you know and trust?¡±


    ¡°Because they¡¯ll be biased,¡± Melmarc answered easily. ¡°They¡¯ll try to solve your problem based on who they think you are and not the problem itself.¡±


    ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with that?¡± Uncle Dorthna asked. ¡°It just sounds to me like it¡¯s a more personalized form of therapy. Definitely better than telling my problems to a stranger for a price. And why do I have to pay?¡±


    ¡°Transactional trust?¡± Melmarc suggested. When Uncle Dorthna gave him a dry look, he added: ¡°It¡¯s easier to trust that a person will do their job properly if they have a tangible benefit that comes with getting the job done. Then you pick a stranger because they have the lowest chance of using your problems to ruin your life socially. Why? Because they do not know the people in your circle that they can go blabbering to. And if they go blabbering to the people in their circle, the chances of it getting to the people in your circle are very unlikely. Then there¡¯s the trust that they¡¯ll keep your secret because you can justifiably ruin their lives if they don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°By suing them to your court of law?¡± his uncle asked.


    Melmarc nodded.


    With a tired sigh, Uncle Dorthna folded his arms over his chest. ¡°Well, you need therapy, and not therapy from some stranger.¡±


    ¡°We have a family therapist,¡± Melmarc corrected, even though Uncle Dorthna was already supposed to know this.


    His uncle waved the words aside. ¡°Still a stranger. You people only talk to strangers because you believe they possess the skills required to help you and, because with all the money paid and everything, you think they won¡¯t shiv you in the back.¡±


    Melmarc intentionally ignored his uncle¡¯s use of the word ¡®shiv.¡¯


    ¡°Here¡¯s my problem with your therapists,¡± his uncle continued. ¡°Their job is not to fix you but to remold you. They don¡¯t make you better. They make you better for society.¡±


    Melmarc said nothing.


    ¡°Alright, you¡¯re more of an answer and question kid, so let¡¯s try something else.¡± Uncle Dorthna paused for a thoughtful moment before continuing. ¡°If you come to your therapist with a problem and the solution is for you to actually become a serial killer, what would your therapist do?¡±


    ¡°Find another solution.¡± It was a no-brainer. ¡°There is no one solution to a problem.¡±


    ¡°Agreed,¡± his uncle said with a nod. ¡°But I¡¯ve lived long enough to be able to tell you this. When it comes to people, while there is no one solution to a problem, there is a best solution to a problem. Now, what will your therapist do if the best solution to your problem is for you to become a serial killer?¡±


    ¡°In this hypothetical situation, are there other solutions?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded. ¡°There are.¡±


    ¡°Then the therapist will find another.¡±


    His uncle snapped a finger at him. ¡°My point exactly. Your therapist does not fix you, they remold you into something more fitting for society.¡±


    ¡°So they make you good.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna shook his head. ¡°They make you acceptable. The perfect human is not good or bad or acceptable, Mel. The perfect human is the perfect individual.¡±


    Humans were social animals as far as Melmarc knew. A social animal was designed for a social life. What good was a human life if the person could not assimilate with a society.


    ¡°Humans need society,¡± he said.


    ¡°Humans need a society,¡± his uncle corrected. ¡°But if the perfect version of you does not fit into the society you find yourself in, then it is not the society for you. Just the way people aren¡¯t meant to be bad, people aren¡¯t meant to be good, Mel. The man or woman that picks up a gun and goes to another man¡¯s land to take it from them so that his family can survive is necessary. If you walk into therapy in a peaceful world and the solution to your problem is to be that man, they¡¯ll lead you in a different direction. It is a direction that works, but it is not the direction you should be headed towards.¡±


    ¡°But it works,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°It is enough.¡±


    His uncle smiled softly, sadly. ¡°Enough,¡± he said, emphasizing the word, ¡°is no longer good enough for any member of this family, Mel. Your father is Madness. At all times, he must be at his very best or risk bringing out his very worst. Your mother is War and the same rules apply to her. Ark is a [Demon King], ''enough'' will have catastrophic repercussions on far more stakeholders than himself. He cannot afford to settle for enough.¡±


    ¡°And I am an [August Intruder],¡± Melmarc said. The Lockwoods were a powerhouse in their own right, it seemed. ¡°So, what of Ninra?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna shrugged. ¡°It may not seem like it, but she has it the toughest. She¡¯s a normal human being who has tasked herself with keeping the Oath of Madness, the Oath of War, a [Demon King], an [August Intruder], and¡ªfor some reason¡ªme in check. She probably has it the toughest. She certainly cannot settle for ''enough.''¡±


    ¡°So, there is someone I¡¯m supposed to be, and I can¡¯t be anyone else,¡± Melmarc concluded sadly. It sounded like having a destiny and being told that you were not allowed to be what you wanted to be.


    Uncle Dorthna shook his head. ¡°No,¡± he disagreed. ¡°You are who you are, and beings like you and your brother and the people who belong to this house cannot afford to be some lesser variation that some therapist requires them to be for the good of the community.¡±


    ¡°So, I shouldn¡¯t be who I want to be?¡±


    ¡°You can be whoever or whatever you want to be, Mel,¡± Uncle Dorthna said softly. ¡°That is your right as a sapient being. Good or bad. Right or wrong. But you have to understand something simple. A lion that wants to be a jaguar is free to do so. It could even end up being the best jaguar to ever exist. But no matter what the lion does, it will always be a lion behaving like a jaguar. It will live up to the fullest of a potential, but not the fullest of its potential.¡±


    Melmarc thought about it. His uncle was practically saying that he owed it to himself to be the best version of himself, regardless of whether society accepted him or not. Regardless of whether his family accepted him or not.


    ¡°It sounds lonely,¡± he muttered.


    Uncle Dorthna¡¯s expression saddened, and he looked away. ¡°Well,¡± he said quietly. ¡°There¡¯s a reason it¡¯s lonely at the top.¡±


    He looked like someone speaking from experience.


    ¡°If you want a chance to stand at the pinnacle of everything,¡± he continued. ¡°You have to learn to be unapologetically you. Sometimes you might end up being the villain in the story. Sometimes you might end up being the hero.¡±


    It only sounded lonelier with every word Uncle Dorthna spoke.


    ¡°But whatever you end up being,¡± Uncle Dorthna said, ¡°you can at least take pleasure in knowing that you ended up being you. I have watched beings reach the pinnacle of who they are and come to the end of their story with a smile on their face because they knew that they reached the end of their story, not a story.¡±


    ¡°And none of them had regrets?¡± Melmarc asked.


    His uncle hesitated. ¡°Everyone has regrets, Mel. I¡¯ve watched a girl reach the pinnacle and die, and her only regret was that she had waited too long as a teenager for a boy she liked to tell her that he liked her instead of telling him about her feelings first. In her old age¡ªand she was very old¡ªher greatest regret was in an action she had not taken at the age of fifteen. She had others, but that was the one that had lived with her the longest and weighed heavily on her in her final moments.¡±


    ¡°Why was it her regret?¡± Melmarc asked, knowing that his uncle would have the answer. He always tended to have the answers to such miniscule things in the stories he told.


    Uncle Dorthna shrugged as if it was not important. ¡°If she¡¯d told him, then maybe he would¡¯ve reciprocated and she would¡¯ve been the reason for him to stay in their little sect instead of going out to fight a war he had no business fighting and dying in.¡± He shrugged again. ¡°It''s all that first love madness people sometimes get hung up on. In your series they call it the one that got away... maybe. I never said the regret had to make sense. I only said that everyone has regrets.¡±


    ¡°So, you¡¯re going to convince mom and dad not to send me to therapy?¡± he asked.


    Uncle Dorthna got up and walked up to him. ¡°I¡¯m going to convince you to convince them to not send you to a therapist. It doesn¡¯t change the fact that you need therapy, though. What that means is that you need to heal. You are wounded,¡± he placed a finger on Melmarc¡¯s forehead, ¡°in here. And you have to heal that injury, which will take time. Until then, I¡¯m going to do something that will help the rest of the world so that they don¡¯t die because of your injury.¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve asked what his uncle meant by that if he didn¡¯t already have an idea. He was a Gifted now. There were people who got into fights because of things like post traumatic stress disorders. As a Gifted, he could only imagine what could happen if he had an episode around normal people.


    Judging from his current state and the pain he just realized he had completely ignored talking to Uncle Dorthna, he could only say that it was a good thing that Ark had been there to stop him from going overboard this time.


    As for therapy, he didn¡¯t really need to think about it.


    ¡°It¡¯s lonely at the top,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°And the world may not accept you for you.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna nodded, standing straight. ¡°But you¡¯ve got two options. Settle for what society wants you to be and maybe be accepted for it. Or reach for the heavens and become who you are and maybe be scorned for it.¡±


    Melmarc looked up at the ceiling above. With all the maybes his uncle had tossed around, it all boiled down to two options in the end.


    Be accepted or be me?


    Uncle Dorthna was still looking at his hair. Melmarc was certain of it now. Since entering the room, his uncle had been oddly fixated on his hair.


    When it all boiled down to an answer, Melmarc knew which option he wanted. After all, his uncle had gone out of his way to make the option sound more interesting. Better.


    Who wouldn¡¯t want to reach for the heavens?


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I understand,¡± he said, in the end.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded. ¡°Good. Now, your parents are already on their way home, so I¡¯ll just get you all fixed up.¡±


    He turned and started moving to Melmarc¡¯s leg.


    ¡°Can I ask a question?¡± Melmarc said as his uncle squatted at his leg.


    Uncle Dorthna turned his head to the side, surveying the leg. ¡°Go for it.¡±


    ¡°Why have you been looking at my hair since you came in?¡±


    His uncle froze then looked up at him. He gestured at a part of his own hair as he answered. ¡°You¡¯ve got a white lock of hair just around this part of your hair. I was wondering if you would want to leave it like that or dye it.¡±


    Melmarc instinctively moved his hand to touch his hair, and pain filled his chest once more. Placing his hand back down, he wondered how it made him look.


    ¡°No,¡± Uncle Dorthna said, looking at him. ¡°It¡¯s just a white lock of hair. We can talk about that when I¡¯m done healing you up. Its easier to explain to parents why the child they left in your care has white hair than it is to explain to them why the child is covered in bruises, has a broken rib or two and multiple fractures.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were scared of mom and dad,¡± Melmarc teased.


    Uncle Dorthna returned his attention to his leg and held his foot with both hands. ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± he said, gently turning the foot one way then the other. ¡°But your mom will complain to Ninra who¡¯ll have a number of words to say to me. I¡¯m not scared of your parents, but your sister is a different question entirely. Does this hurt?¡±


    He turned Melmarc¡¯s foot a little too much to the side and pain shot up the entire leg.


    Melmarc gasped in pain. ¡°A lot.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Uncle Dorthna mused. ¡°So, you¡¯ve got more than just one compound fracture. I guess the spell I had in mind won¡¯t work¡­ Let¡¯s get to it then.¡±


    Melmarc returned his attention to the ceiling, hoping that whatever his uncle was about to do wouldn¡¯t hurt too much. He could still feel the pain in his uncle''s side from where he was.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°For doing this.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna didn''t look up from his foot. ¡°It¡¯s the least I can do after what happened."


    Something in his uncle¡¯s voice made Melmarc ask, ¡°What exactly happened?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna stopped what he was doing to look at him. ¡°Oh, you wouldn¡¯t really remember.¡±


    ¡°Remember what?¡±


    ¡°You lost your cool, started messing things up.¡± His uncle shrugged. ¡°So I had to beat you up.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    His uncle nodded. ¡°¡®Oh¡¯ is right.¡± He turned back to the leg. ¡°Now, once I¡¯m done with all the spells, we¡¯ll talk about your hair, because dying it isn¡¯t all there is to be talked about. Then we¡¯ll see if you got any titles.¡±


    ¡°Titles?¡± Melmarc asked, confused.


    Uncle Dorthna gave him a flat look. ¡°You went on a rampage and got beaten up by me. Going on a rampage might not be a big deal, but trust me, being beaten up by me is. You even managed to land a few blows here and there. At your rank, that¡¯s probably the biggest deal.¡±


    That was¡­ interesting.


    It also left him with a curious itch. But as much as Melmarc suddenly wanted to pull up his interface, experience had taught him to listen to his uncle. He also had another thought as his uncle poked different parts of his leg with a finger.


    I wonder why everyone¡¯s so scared of Ninra.


    Personally, he thought his sister was lovely.

 ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN: Secret

    Uncle Dorthna¡¯s spell was simple. Melmarc didn¡¯t feel anything in the beginning, just the simple poking and prodding as his uncle worked his way up his body up to a very painful spot on his head that Melmarc had not even been aware of.


    ¡°That¡¯s going to be a heavy one,¡± his uncle muttered under his breath when Melmarc groaned from being poked in the head.


    ¡°A heavy one?¡± Melmarc asked. ¡°Why do I get the feeling that what you¡¯re about to do is going to hurt?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna looked down at him. ¡°Because healing hurts.¡±


    That couldn¡¯t be right. Melmarc knew for a near fact that magical healing did in fact not hurt. In fact, the types of healing that actually hurt were in the minorities. The great minorities. Probably the one percent, maybe less.


    Nobody wanted a healer that would put them through pain while healing them in a battle situation. It was bad for business.


    So he told his uncle just as much. ¡°Healing spells don¡¯t hurt.¡±


    ¡°Not the ones that do a proper job.¡± Uncle Dorthna moved down from his head and poked a rib. ¡°That¡¯s five broken ribs one hairline fracture in your left leg and¡­¡± he looked up and Melmarc¡¯s terror must have been obvious because he said, ¡°You don¡¯t need to know the details, just that you¡¯ll be fine and good in a matter of time.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. ¡°And you did this to me?¡± It wasn¡¯t an accusation, just a repetition of his incredulity.


    ¡°Actually,¡± his uncle clarified. ¡°A wall did this to you.¡±


    Melmarc cocked a brow, feeling the pain in his head.


    ¡°You went through one of the living room walls,¡± his uncle said.


    Melmarc could definitely see how going through a wall could¡¯ve done this to a normal person.


    ¡°And I thought I was now strong enough to survive walls,¡± he muttered under his breath.


    Apart from the strength-based classes, he knew of classes that became strong enough by default to survive going through walls after some growth. Usually, though, they were A-ranks and S-ranks.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a normal wall.¡± Uncle Dorthna held two hands over Melmarc¡¯s foot. ¡°It was a wall in your house.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°There are a lot of enchantments and spells on it to make it strong.¡± His uncle shrugged just before a spell appeared between his hands and Melmarc¡¯s foot. ¡°I¡¯m just glad things weren¡¯t worse after you went through it.¡±


    Melmarc stared at the spell circle. Most of the spells he knew from those with the [Mage] classes were usually circles with geometric signs within the circles. As for healing done by those with the [Healer] class, there were no symbols or anything of the like, just a soothing sensation or some emanation of colors.


    Uncle Dorthna¡¯s, however, didn¡¯t look like a normal spell. There was the circle that came with most spells but that was where the similarities ended. For one, as a healing spell, the circle was not green where others were. It was a deep golden color, almost like the color of the sun. Secondly, the circle had no geometric signs hidden within it. Just words and scribbles and sigils that Melmarc could not read. In fact, looking at it tried to give him a headache.


    Personally, it looked more like an advanced enchantment.


    Melmarc allowed his head to fall back and looked at the ceiling. ¡°Aren¡¯t enchantments meant to be written on something?¡± he muttered, shaking off the drowsy feeling that looking at the spell had elicited.


    ¡°This not an enchantment,¡± his uncle answered absently. ¡°This is a spell.¡±


    ¡°Looks like an enchantment.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± His uncle sucked in a deep breath. ¡°Now you¡¯re going to feel the¡­¡±


    The sudden silence of his uncle drew Melmarc¡¯s attention and he pulled his head up to look at his uncle. Uncle Dorthna was still squatted in front of his leg, looking thoughtful.


    ¡°You know what?¡± he said after a moment. ¡°No one¡¯s home but let¡¯s do something about the potential outcome.¡±


    To Melmarc¡¯s greatest surprise, his uncle got up and moved to the wardrobe in the room. Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped. The spell was still hovering over his leg. He¡¯d never heard of a spell being abandoned by its caster and still being active while its caster went ahead to do something else.


    ¡°How strong are you, exactly?¡± he found himself asking as his uncle rummaged through his wardrobe.


    ¡°I am merely a shadow of myself.¡± He pulled out a shirt, rolled it up, checked its thickness, then tossed it back inside. ¡°But stronger than anyone on your world.¡±


    He went back to looking through the wardrobe.


    ¡°Did you lose your powers?¡± Melmarc asked.


    Uncle Dorthna pulled out another shirt and rolled it up tighter. ¡°In a manner of speaking. Someone did something with the help of some people that left me in a certain state.¡± He turned and faced Melmarc with a small vest in his hands. ¡°That state has left me as a shadow of myself.¡±


    ¡°Why doesn¡¯t my skill work on you?¡±


    Melmarc knew that his uncle was very much aware of what skill he was talking about. [Knowledge is Power] couldn¡¯t even give him his uncle¡¯s name.


    His uncle walked up to him, rolling the vest up into a bundle. He stopped in front of him. ¡°I¡¯ll answer this question, then you¡¯ve got two more before I put this in your mouth. Deal?¡±


    The rolled up vest was suddenly the most terrifying thing in the room and Melmarc couldn¡¯t take his eyes off it. ¡°Yes,¡± he answered with a nod.


    ¡°Good.¡± Uncle Dorthna rolled the vest up some more, made it smaller and thicker. ¡°Your skill doesn¡¯t work on me because I¡¯m too powerful.¡±


    ¡°Even as a shadow of yourself?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Melmarc paused, realized what had just happened and hurriedly asked. ¡°Two independent questions not chain questions, right?¡±


    His uncle laughed. ¡°You must really be out of it if you made that mistake. That¡¯s more Ark than you.¡±


    It was. It also made Melmarc realize that he had no idea where his older brother was. He opened his mouth, paused, frowned.


    ¡°I want to ask where Ark is,¡± he said slowly, cautious not to ask a question. ¡°But I¡¯m worried it will count as a question.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna turned away abruptly and started laughing. Melmarc waited patiently as his uncle laughed some more with enough vigor to make Spitfire come running into the room.


    After a while, when the laughter had died out, his uncle turned to him with a smile. ¡°You do know that you get two questions before I heal you, right? Not two questions and none at all.¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± His uncle wrapped the bundled up vest tighter. ¡°Now ask your two independent questions so we can do this.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s your class?¡± That one was quick to come, courtesy of the spell still hovering over his foot without the caster¡¯s attention. It was really freaky.


    Uncle Dorthna paused in thought, looked up to the ceiling as if conjuring up a lie then changing his mind.


    In the end, he said. ¡°If your interface can see it, you will see [Mage].¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re not a [Mage].¡±


    ¡°I am not.¡± His uncle raised a hand and moved it slowly through the air. He frowned at the end of the action. ¡°We¡¯re really running out of time.¡±


    ¡°So, why [Mage]?¡±


    ¡°Because it is what the lesser version of my class should be or maybe I should say is.¡±


    ¡°Lesser version?¡± Melmarc was perplexed. ¡°Classes can be upgraded?¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ So, if you¡¯re not a [Mage], what are you?¡±


    For a moment his uncle looked sad. The awareness died from his eyes as his body seemed to sag. At Melmarc¡¯s feet, the spell flickered almost imperceptibly.


    ¡°You get to a point in life where you stop caring about classes and start paying attention to designations.¡± Uncle Dorthna blinked, but he still looked as if he was speaking from memory, pulling things from times half-remembered. ¡°[Creators], [Envoys], [Ruiners], [Voids].¡± He shook his head. ¡°Far too many designations in far too vast an existence.¡± He looked at Melmarc now. ¡°But I digress. What my class is does not matter. What matters is that I am like you, your parents, your brother. The man that walks past the house and doesn¡¯t seem to see it.¡±


    ¡°Human?¡± Melmarc said. He would be lying if a part of him had not considered his uncle to be something other than human since coming back home from the portal.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded. ¡°Yes, Mel. Human. I am human. And that is all that matters.¡±


    ¡°Where is Ar¡ª¡±


    His uncle shoved the rolled up vest in his mouth, immediately silencing him.


    ¡°Sorry, kiddo,¡± he said. ¡°But I know you. As obedient as you are, if I give you the time, you¡¯ll ask all the questions in the world and I won¡¯t get to heal your leg in time.¡±


    Making sure that Melmarc¡¯s mouth was sufficiently full with a tap against his jaw, Uncle Dorthna moved over to his leg.


    Melmarc watched the spell grow slightly brighter and his uncle said, ¡°Brace yourself.¡±


    Melmarc made the mistake of wondering just how much brace he needed before he finally braced himself so the pain hit him a little too quickly.


    He bulked under the weight of the spell as he felt his foot tear in four different places. When he felt his foot come undone, he twitched and thrashed, back arching so that he bowed backwards on his bed, rising off it like someone possessed by a demon in the exorcism movies.


    Then the pain was gone and he fell back helplessly.


    That had been a lot of pain for a single foot.


    Dorthna patted his foot generously and moved on from it. ¡°You¡¯re doing good, kiddo.¡± He poked Melmarc¡¯s leg and Melmarc winced. ¡°Now time for your leg.¡± Another spell circle appeared over his leg. This one looked slightly different, but Melmarc couldn¡¯t quite make out just how different. ¡°Brace for impact.¡±


    Refusing to make the earlier mistake, Melmarc did not wonder. He simply braced for all the good it did him.


    When he felt his leg come undone, he heard his voice muffled by the vest in his mouth as it did its job of keeping him quiet. Without an outlet of escape in the form of sound, his pain left him in the form of a drop of tears rolling down the side of his face from his right eye.


    Where his foot had been torn in three different places, Melmarc lost count of how many places his leg had been torn in. Everything felt as if his uncle had put his leg through a shredder and just let things happen to it.


    Then, in only a matter of time, just as it had been with his foot, the pain was gone. Again, his uncle gave his leg a generous pat before moving over to the second leg.


    The process repeated itself until Melmarc found himself praying, pleading, and begging for help. Tears streamed down his face and his uncle only looked at him once through the entire ordeal. As he moved from his second leg to his torso to his arms.


    Uncle Dorthna came and settled, sitting on the bed just next to Melmarc¡¯s head. He looked apologetic.


    ¡°Sorry, kid,¡± he said. ¡°Proper healing is never easy to handle.¡±


    Melmarc didn¡¯t think that proper healing was meant to hurt. He¡¯d never had any injury that had hurt while it healed normally before, so he didn¡¯t think it was supposed to when it healed magically.


    With the vest still in his mouth, he could not give his uncle a piece of his mind on the subject.


    ¡°I¡¯m about to deal with the injury on your head,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°It¡¯s going to hurt. You¡¯ll probably pass out for a moment.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    This was not healing. Melmarc refused to believe it. Why would healing make him pass out.


    ¡°Normally, I could add something to the spell to deal with the pain,¡± Uncle Dorthna continued. ¡°But since you¡¯re unlocked your Pain concept, I would be doing you a disfavor by adding that. Also, I really couldn¡¯t add it if I wanted to. It¡¯s kind of¡­¡± his uncle shook his head. ¡°Never mind.¡± He leaned in and looked into Melmarc¡¯s wide and skittish eyes. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry for the pain. But remember this; the pain is good; the pain is your friend.¡±


    Pain is good, Melmarc thought as Dorthna¡¯s hands came to settle over his head. Pain is my friend.


    When the spell circle appeared over his head, right in his face, fresh memories of the pain that he had just gone through came to life and he closed his eyes from the spell.


    Pain is good. Pain is my friend.


    When the spell took effect, Melmarc learned two things.


    Pains was not good.


    Pain was not his friend.


    When the pain came, it poured. It flooded his mind like a thousand pictures flashing through a screen. At one point everything stopped. There was nothingness. Then the light returned and the pain came with it.


    Then it was gone.


    Melmarc peeled his eyes open and found Uncle Dorthna looking down at him with a small smile. His uncle placed a gentle hand on his head and rubbed it soothingly.


    ¡°You did good.¡±


    Melmarc would¡¯ve nodded if he had the strength to. ¡°Everything got quiet for a while,¡± he said.


    ¡°Uhuh.¡± His uncle nodded. ¡°You passed out for a moment. Let¡¯s say three seconds.¡± His smile widened jovially. ¡°Very quiet three seconds. Then you came back and took the silence with you.¡±


    Melmarc tasted his mouth and realized that the vest was gone. He licked his lips and his eyes began darting around.


    ¡°I took the cloth from your mouth when you fainted,¡± his uncle explained. ¡°Didn¡¯t want to risk anything.¡±


    When Melmarc nodded in understanding, he realized that he didn¡¯t have any headache and he didn¡¯t feel any pain.


    Uncle Dorthna got up from the bed and clapped his hands once.


    ¡°Alright, then,¡± he declared, moving back to his bed. ¡°As for the question you asked before we started, I sent Ark to the phone store. Told him to walk there. We¡¯re getting you a new cell phone.¡±


    ¡°What of the one I left in the precinct?¡± Melmarc had expected his mind to be drowsy somehow from having to go through all the pain. It was not. His mind was clear.


    His uncle shrugged. ¡°No idea. I can say that your parents haven¡¯t forgotten about the precinct yet, though. Once they are done with the powers that be, I¡¯m guessing the precinct will be next. Hopefully, they don¡¯t tear the place down and cost people their jobs.¡±


    Hopefully, Melmarc thought, not that he could really bring himself to care right now.


    ¡°So, you have more questions for me,¡± Uncle Dorthna continued. ¡°Before that, though, I¡¯d suggest checking your stats. Proper healing tends to have effects on them.¡±


    A confused line creased Melmarc¡¯s forehead. He¡¯d never heard of that before. Still, he pulled up his stats.


    Stats


    [Agility 8, Balance 12, Mental 12 -- > 16, Mana 24-- > 42, Strength 14, Dexterity 7, Accuracy 6, Speed 5, Constitution 4 -- > 10]


    Melmarc¡¯s jaw dropped, which was funny since he was lying down and not standing up. He didn¡¯t think that gravity was pulling his jaw down. Not necessarily.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite the boost to your mana stats,¡± Uncle Dorthna whistled lightly. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be the guy going up against you in a test of mana.¡±


    ¡°What did you d¡ª¡± Melmarc froze, and he looked up from his stats to his uncle.


    Uncle Dorthna looked as if he knew exactly what he had done, as if it had been intentional.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t show you my stats,¡± Melmarc said pointedly.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t show me your stats,¡± Uncle Dorthna echoed in confirmation.


    Realization dawned on Melmarc after that. ¡°You can see my interface.¡±


    His uncle nodded. ¡°As long as you can pull it up, I can see it.¡±


    Melmarc was feeling something, but he couldn¡¯t quite put a name on what it was. ¡°Can you see other people¡¯s interfaces?¡±


    ¡°If they can pull it up,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°Then I can see it.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    His uncle shrugged. ¡°When you advance to a certain level of power, you just work differently.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. How many new things was he going to find out about his uncle without finding out who exactly his uncle was.


    Still, regardless of all the new things, he knew one fact to remain true. He still trusted his Uncle Dorthna.


    Tossing the new piece of information in one corner of his brain where the things he knew about Uncle Dorthna went to play, he returned his attention to the stats in front of him.


    ¡°So, you did this to my mana?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. But your constitution,¡± his uncle gave him a smile. ¡°That one was courtesy of good ol¡¯ uncle D.¡±


    ¡°How did you give me six points in constitution?¡±


    ¡°Well, everyone knows that constitution is just your overall physical and biological make up, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°Any proper healing from any severe injury is meant to be painful,¡± his uncle continued. ¡°It¡¯s also meant to add a point or two to your constitution. You see, average and mediocre healing, like the ones you normal see around, use mana to patch you back together. What a proper healing spell does, however, is use mana to fuel your body with the necessary nutritional requirements needed to heal and then speed up your healing process by an exponential factor in an isolated area. As the saying goes, broken bones heal better¡­ I think.¡±


    ¡°How do you explain the pain? Healing isn¡¯t supposed to be painful.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna snapped his finger at him. ¡°Trues. But broken bones being forced to heal into a strong and useable condition hurts. It¡¯s like healing and physical therapy all in the space of a few seconds.¡±


    ¡°And the pain?¡±


    His uncle shrugged. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten the concept of pain unlocked within you, all the pain you get should not be suppressed.¡±


    Melmarc gulped. Did that mean his uncle was going to add pain management to his training now?


    Hoping that not bringing it up would reduce the chances of it happening, he turned them to a different topic.


    ¡°You said you were a shadow of yourself before,¡± he said.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded, then shrugged his leg, pushing Spitfire aside so that it went skidding across the floor. ¡°I did.¡±


    Melmarc looked at the demon and found it grumbling away from his uncle. It wasn¡¯t hurt just annoyed, so he ignored it. ¡°But you also said that you¡¯re too powerful that¡¯s why [Knowledge is Power] doesn¡¯t work on you.¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°How strong are you?¡±


    ¡°Honestly?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Honestly. I¡¯m not looking for false humility.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna took a moment to make a thoughtful hum before answering. ¡°There¡¯s nobody alive on this planet that is as strong as I am.¡±


    Melmarc paused. That had been¡­ a bit ''arrogant sounding''.


    You did ask for honesty over humility, though.


    ¡°Even as a shadow of yourself?¡± he confirmed.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded. ¡°Even as a shadow of myself.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± Melmarc was not afraid to admit that he wanted power of that level. The kind of power that had you believing that even at a weakened state you were still stronger than everyone.


    ¡°I see doubt,¡± his uncle said simply.


    Melmarc shrugged. The action told him that he now had more than enough strength to get up from the bed pain free. He did not.


    ¡°It¡¯s kind of hard to believe you¡¯re that powerful even as a shadow of yourself,¡± he answered.


    His uncle sighed. ¡°A weak and dying dragon will still win a fight against an ant no matter what, Mel. It¡¯s just how life works.¡±


    ¡°A weak and dying dragon,¡± Melmarc echoed his uncle¡¯s words. ¡°And an ant. Wow. That confidence. Just how?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not as arrogant as I sound right now,¡± his uncle said, chuckling. ¡°I¡¯m just being honest since that¡¯s what you asked for. When you¡¯ve lived as long as I have, these things just become inevitable.¡±


    ¡°And how old are you?¡±


    His uncle raised a brow at that. ¡°Hasn¡¯t anyone told you that it¡¯s rude to go around asking people their age?¡±


    Melmarc blanked. ¡°I thought that only applied to women.¡±


    It was his uncle¡¯s turn to look confused.


    ¡°Really?¡± his uncle asked. ¡°I thought it applied to everyone. Anyway, who¡¯s the oldest person you know?¡±


    That was easy.


    ¡°Grandpa,¡± he answered. Although he rarely got to see his grandparents. Since he was born, he¡¯d probably seen them a maximum of three times.


    ¡°I¡¯m older than him,¡± Uncle Dorthna said easily. ¡°Let¡¯s do two more question then it¡¯s my turn.¡±


    Melmarc was confused. ¡°Your turn?¡±


    ¡°Remember when your mom said I had something to talk about with you?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. He¡¯d thought that they¡¯d already talked about it in the last few days without him being around. If not, he¡¯d just assumed that it would happen with his parents around. He wasn¡¯t against talking about it now, though.


    ¡°Well,¡± his uncle said. ¡°I¡¯m interested in talking about that. But ask your next question.¡±


    ¡°Do mom and dad know that you can see interfaces?¡± he asked, genuinely curious.


    ¡°No idea,¡± Uncle Dorthna answered. ¡°But I doubt that there¡¯s anything you can tell them about me that will surprise them.¡±


    ¡°So, this is not our little secret?¡± Melmarc asked. They¡¯d had a lot of those growing up. When Ark had learned to pick a lock. The first time he¡¯d fought Ark and lost. Ninra punishing Ark by keeping dinner from him.


    The little things.


    His uncle chuckled. ¡°Alright, let me do the job of a proper adult right now and tell you something. When you do something wrong or bad and an adult catches you or witnesses it, that can be the both of you¡¯s little secret. When you catch an adult doing something wrong or bad or you learn something new about the adult that they ask you to keep a secret¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not a secret that you keep from your parents,¡± Melmarc finished with a groan. ¡°I know, Uncle D. I¡¯m not a kid. I¡¯m not ten. I¡¯m sixteen.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡± Uncle Dorthna rolled his eyes. ¡°I just told you that I¡¯m older than you grandparents and you think sixteen is not a kid to me. Anyway, next question.¡±


    Melmarc knew what the question was going to be.


    ¡°How did you get so strong?¡±


    ¡°Age, experience, risks, very up close conversations with death, a lot of luck, terrible enemies.¡± Uncle Dorthna shrugged. ¡°Sadly, while anybody can become strong, not everybody will become strong. Some people are born talented. Some are born without talent but have a lot of luck in life. Then there are those that have none but claw their way to the top. But there is a sure method that works for everybody. In the world of murim, they¡¯ll tell you that strength boils down to two things; hard work and dedication. You can¡¯t go wrong with those. With age and enough life and death situations, you¡¯ve got yourself a recipe for power. There aren¡¯t a lot of people who have had the kinds of up close conversations I¡¯ve had with death and come out alive, though. So not everybody gets to where I am.¡±


    ¡°Murim?¡± Melmarc gave his uncle a questioning look. ¡°You¡¯re quoting manhwas now?¡±


    ¡°Manhwa?¡± Uncle Dorthna looked confused for a moment before adding, ¡°Yes, manhwas. It being a manhwa doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not right, though.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Melmarc agreed. ¡°Your turn. What are we talking about?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna got up from Ark¡¯s bed and walked up to Melmarc. Bending down, he picked a strand of hair and pulled.


    Nothing happened. So, he pulled again. Again, nothing happened.


    When he looked down at Melmarc, Melmarc shrugged.


    It wasn¡¯t painful. Each time his uncle had pulled, it had felt as if someone was drawing on his finger or his hair. He was aware that someone was pulling on him but it didn¡¯t give the sensation that came with someone actually pulling at a strand of hair.


    ¡°Ow?¡± Melmarc muttered when his uncle pulled out a random strand of hair from a different section.


    Blowing the strand into the wind, his uncle said, ¡°Interesting.¡±


    Then he returned to the original patch of hair and pulled. This time, the strand of hair came free and his uncle held in his hand a strand of pure white hair.


    It was a long strand of white hair, longer than Melmarc¡¯s longest finger. His uncle turned it one way then the other, studying it as if it was some out of the world specimen.


    ¡°That¡¯s my hair color?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Just a part of it,¡± Uncle Dorthna answered. ¡°When you went into a fit, you were drawing in and generating too much raw mana while your body was trying to assimilate it and use it to protect yourself. With your [Purified] trait that¡¯s basically turned your mana into pure mana, I¡¯m not very surprised that it worked at your age and level.¡±


    Melmarc had all but forgotten about his trait [Purified]. If he remembered correctly, it made all his skills work with pure mana.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing the white hair means something,¡± Melmarc said.


    Uncle Dorthna nodded. ¡°It means that you assimilated a little too well with the pure mana. Usually, the few times I¡¯ve seen this happen, the person usually ends up with a strand or two. You have an entire patch of it. Then again, most of the people I¡¯ve seen go through it already have an established type of mana within them, mana that has grown from their existence and from living to the level of power they had. You¡¯re a new B-rank. I guess your body didn¡¯t have a strongly dedicated mana type so it just bound itself to pure mana¡­¡± he frowned. ¡°Like the Observers.¡±


    ¡°Observers?¡± There was something ominous about the way Uncle Dorthna had said the word.


    Uncle Dorthna dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. ¡°Not important. They are extinct and forgotten for a good reason. What I¡¯m saying is that your hair is proof that you¡¯ve bonded with pure mana. For now, it¡¯s not so much of a big deal since no one would understand what the hair implies. But it¡¯s a good bad thing, I guess. But mostly good.¡±


    ¡°Should I be worried?¡± Melmarc asked.


    ¡°Nope.¡± Uncle Dorthna was still looking at the strand of hair. He looked mesmerized.


    Both of them were stuck in a very short moment of silence when two things happened at once. Uncle Dorthna dipped his hand inside the pocket of his pants while the door to the room opened wider and Ark walked inside.


    ¡°Is he awake?¡± was the first thing out of Ark¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Uncle Dorthna said at the same time, placing his cell phone to his ear. ¡°Right now?¡± he paused as he listened to the person on the other end. ¡°The kids?¡± Another pause. ¡°Alright, got it.¡±


    He got up from the bed with the phone still placed against his ear as Ark walked up to them with a look of relief on his face.


    ¡°How do you feel?¡± he asked as he and Uncle Dorthna walked passed each other.


    Spitfire swiped at his foot with one of its limbs casually but Ark was looking back at the door.


    After a moment, he looked back to Melmarc and thumbed over his shoulder at the door.


    ¡°Is it just me,¡± he said, ¡°or does Uncle D look very excited?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°No idea.¡±


    ¡­


    Dorthna took the phone from his ear and walked casually down the stairs. While Aurora¡¯s call to release some of the defensive spells that kept people from this world from being able to find the house was odd, he had more interesting things on his mind.


    With a single gesture, he dismissed a sufficient number of spells protecting the house while staring at the strand of hair in his hand.


    Even as strong as he was and as old as he was, luck still continued to play a part in his life. Melmarc had a full patch of white hair. The boy had quite literally bonded with the level of pure mana that beings at the pinnacle of their powers had failed to bond to. Then again, the stronger you grew, the stronger your identity. And the stronger your sense of self within existence, the harder it was to bind to anything.


    In truth, Melmarc wasn¡¯t supposed to be able to do what he had done. Not at his age or level. But the boy was a walking encyclopedia of luck. What were the odds that the boy had survived an injury from an [Intruder] at a very young age? What were the odds that said [Intruder] just happened to be a very very very rare user of pure mana? What were the odds that the boy had successfully assimilated with said pure mana, developed a class that quite specifically dealt with taking in mana and replicating it, then met with a void-beast that had sped up his process of becoming an [August Intruder] from at least a few decades to right now and then experiencing a state of a Mad god?


    Dorthna almost burst out laughing.


    Melmarc did not know it but he was the definition of walking luck. It reminded him of the Observers of old. With different titles there were Observers of suffering and Observers of luck. Or, as some people liked to call them, the Suffering Ones and the Lucky Ones.


    Dorthna paused half-way down the stairs.


    Melmarc was a little too lucky. What were the chances that it wasn¡¯t luck? Dorthna shook his head. The boy wasn¡¯t some hidden mastermind.


    It just feels too good to be true.


    There was also the voidbeast, but those creatures could not act outside of their instincts. And while their instincts had loop holes, there was none that deep.


    Dorthna looked at Melmarc¡¯s strand of hair as he finally walked into the living room. Luck had smiled on him and he¡¯d found himself acquainted with an untainted holder of the title of [Mana-touched]. And it wasn¡¯t just mana, it was pure mana.


    Melmarc had no idea the kind of powerhouse he would be if he lived long enough. An [August Intruder] blessed by pure mana was unheard of.


    If he could arrange the contract properly, he could get a significant source of pure mana over a period of time without harming the boy.


    You might not be able to break the curse but you might be able to grow your skill masteries back in a few decades.


    The smile that touched his lips was a little too wide. So wide that when a local portal warped to life in the middle of the living room, the smile did not leave his face.


    Dorthna stepped up to it, intrigued. ¡°Now what do we have here?¡±


    The portal vanished a moment later as if it was sucked into a void. Gone, it left behind three people. Two men, one of which was on the floor with his hands and kness, and a woman.


    Dorthna recognized one of the men as a member of Madness¡¯ Delving team. The woman was Aurora who looked at him with terror and imploration in her eyes.


    ¡°Help him,¡± she begged, rushing to Dorthna. ¡°Please. I¡¯ll give you anything. I¡¯ll give you my life, just help him.¡±


    Madness¡¯ teammate, Fendor, if he was remembering it correctly, looked very puzzled. Dorthna didn¡¯t blame him. Instead, he fixed his attention on the second man.


    Madness trembled, body twitching on his hands and knees. When he looked up at Dorthna, Dorthna sighed at the stupidity of the Oaths of Madness.


    David Lockwood, father to an [August Intruder] and a [Demon King], and Oath of Madness of this world, was in a terrible state.


    Blood spilled from his mouth, nose, eyes and ears in massive rivulets, staining the ground crimson. Yet, there was no sign of pain on his face.


    The Oath of Madness was dying.

 ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN: Pain Of Sanity

    Aurora had tears in her eyes. It had been a significantly long while since Dorthna had seen her cry.


    ¡°Please,¡± she begged as her husband bled out quietly on the floor and his teammate stood there completely confused and helpless.


    A second ago she had just offered him her life. It reminded him of the same offer her husband had made many years ago when she had been lying helpless on a hospital bed, dying from the loss of her Oath.


    Madness had come to him with the same offer, even if less emotional and tear ridden. But it had been the same offer. Save his wife and Dorthna got his life in exchange. Madness¡¯ request, however, had been more logical than what his wife was begging for. At least their children would be better off with Aurora as a single parent than Madness as a single parent and Madness had known it.


    Aurora, however, was speaking from a place of emotion. How did she expect Madness in all his eccentricities to be an amazing single father. Madness meant well but it just wasn¡¯t reasonable for him to be a single father.


    And it wasn¡¯t as if he could get another wife. Dorthna knew how often Oaths of Madness found love. It was more common for them to die alone than to even find the simple satisfaction of friendship.


    ¡°Dorthna.¡± Aurora grabbed him by the shirt and looked into his eyes with rheumy eyes of her own.


    Tears stained her cheeks and Dorthna watched her contort in terror.


    Would she be so terrified if it was her child dying out on the ground? Dorthna wondered. Human emotions had always been something of an intrigue to him, even if he often found himself displaying them as well.


    Slowly, without taking his eyes off of her, he slipped the strand of white hair in his hand into his pocket. Then he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°Aurora,¡± he said softly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll sacrifice anything,¡± she pleaded. ¡°You can have all my masteries. My stats. My skills. You can have my class.¡±


    Her desperation was palpable. So palpable that it filled the air in the living room and choked it. She hadn¡¯t even noticed that the living room was completely bare. No television, no furniture. Nothing.


    Madness continued to bleed out all over the ground behind her. His teammate continued to worry over him and his helplessness.


    The situation was unfortunate. The agreement he had with the Lockwood family was simple. Apart from protecting their children in their absence until they were either Gifted or came of age, he would only interfere in their own lives if they paid the price for his interference.


    Sometimes a certain level of skill mastery was the sufficient price. Sometimes a stat point was the price. Once upon a time, when Ninra had come down with a specific type of cancer and no [Healer] on earth could save her, Dorthna had taken an entire skill from Madness.


    But this¡­ this was something else.


    Dorthna had the decency and respect of looking Aurora in the eye as he told her the same thing he¡¯d told her husband all those years ago when he¡¯d come begging for Dorthna to save his wife¡¯s life.


    ¡°For this,¡± he told her solemnly, ¡°your life will not be a sufficient payment.¡±


    He watched his words break her. Her jaw dropped, mouth opened to say words that would not come. Dorthna did nothing, waiting as a man would wait for the outcome of a decision he had made. A decision that weighed the world against his principles.


    Releasing him, she staggered to one side of the room not too far away. There had been a chair there once, and she deposited herself upon it. But since the chair was gone, she simply dropped to the ground.


    ¡°I know a guy in Pakistan,¡± Fendor said quickly. ¡°He¡¯s an S-rank [Healer]. He might be able to help.¡±


    Aurora shook her head absently. Her eyes were glazed as if she was no longer present. Despair was eating her sanity from within, rendering her a husk of what she was.


    ¡°Life couldn¡¯t heal him.¡± It was all she had to say.


    That was interesting as far as Dorthna was concerned. Not the part about the Oath of Life not being able to heal the Oath of Madness, but the part about the Oath of Life from this world finally showing up. It was most likely because of Melmarc.


    ¡°We can¡¯t give up, ma¡¯am,¡± Fendor said, rushing to her. ¡°We can at least try.¡±


    When Aurora looked up at him, the Delver stepped away from her. His face was the perfect touch of shock not terror.


    Slowly, she pushed herself up from the ground and wiped her tears.


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said. ¡°We struggle until the end.¡± Turning to look at Dorthna, she added: ¡°Take care of the kids until we¡¯re back.¡±


    Dorthna moved his hand, manipulating the countless spells and enchantments in the house to isolate the sound in the living room from every other part of the house as a new portal appeared behind Fendor.


    He leaned down to pick Madness up when Dorthna walked up to him.


    ¡°How¡¯s Deoti?¡± Dorthna asked the Delver.


    The man¡¯s eyes narrowed at him in confusion as Dorthna placed a hand on his shoulder. Anger flashed in those eyes for a moment. He looked at Dorthna as if Dorthna was a monster, a man who had betrayed his friends. But Dorthna didn¡¯t care. It was in the nature of those capable of thought to judge others based on their actions not their intentions or the circumstances surrounding them.


    Dorthna had always found that he cared little to nothing for the judgement of the sentient.


    ¡°Thank you for bringing Madness, child,¡± he said simply. ¡°Your services are no longer needed.¡±


    Fendor opened his mouth to speak but Dorthna pushed him into the portal he had opened before the words came out of his mouth.


    With a gentle wave of his hand, all the defensive spells of the house came alive again. No one on the planet would remember the location of the house. No one on the planet would be able to teleport back into the house.


    As for the Delver¡¯s portal, it snapped shut forcefully.


    Aurora rounded on Dorthna with the violence of a woman about to lose her world. ¡°What have you done?!¡±


    Dorthna moved easily as she tried to grab him. His hand intercepted her moving arms and guided them to the side. Using her momentum against her, he sent her staggering. In a world as young as this one, the strongest amongst them was only the strongest by comparison.


    He wondered how long it would take them to understand it.


    Ignoring her, he squatted in front of Madness and gave the Oath an apologetic smile.


    ¡°Must be tough, huh?¡± he said.


    Behind him, Aurora did not attack again. She stood, waiting, hoping. Dorthna had seen a lot of people die to the false promise of hope. Hope that they saw in every corner when they were left hanging by a thread.


    Madness met Dorthna¡¯s gaze but said nothing.


    ¡°What were you hit with?¡± Dorthna asked, the question rhetoric. ¡°How bad is it that you cannot talk?¡±


    ¡°He fought against the Oath of Pain,¡± Aurora said very quickly. ¡°I don¡¯t know what he did to him, but he¡¯s been bleeding ever since.¡±


    The Oath of Pain wasn¡¯t a very powerful Oath by the standard of Oaths. Its real strength laid in the ability to inflict pain not cause damage. But enough pain was damaging in its own way. If it was painful enough the brain could quite literally abandon any part of the body it felt responsible for it.


    ¡°Is that what you¡¯re doing, Madness?¡± Dorthna looked in Madness eyes, seeing the same level of reason Madness always possessed. ¡°Are you abandoning the parts of your body that bring you pain.¡±


    Behind him, Aurora gasped but Dorthna ignored her.


    Normally, the Oath of Pain was not supposed to be able to cause such levels of pain against the Oath of Madness. But Madness was weak in this world, his weakness completely Dorthna¡¯s fault. Still, it did not mean that this was Dorthna¡¯s fault. Madness had known the risk.


    ¡°How much does it hurt?¡± Dorthna asked.


    Madness¡¯ pupils dilated then shrunk back down into tiny dots.


    ¡°That bad?¡± Dorthna mused.


    ¡°How can I help?¡± Aurora asked very quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll do anything.¡±


    Dorthna was not in the habit of repeating himself. So instead of telling her that there was nothing she could do, he ignored her.


    The versatility of the Oath of Madness was in their madness. It broke their minds and split them into many pieces that allowed them to do things that most people could not do. One of such things was nigh complete control of their very biology.


    The Oath of Madness had the highest level of endurance amongst Oaths not because they were blessed with endurance but because they had the ability to ignore the pain that they felt. While their opponent waned under the pain of the damage inflicted upon them, Oaths of Madness set the pain aside and kept moving forward. The problem was that the very action was not a conscious one, not really. It simply just happened.


    So, right now, Madness was banishing the pain he was feeling. And, from what Dorthna could tell, he was feeling the pain everywhere. Even in his ability to think. So he was banishing himself. If his limb hurt, he banished it. If his heart hurt, he banished it. If his spleen hurt, he banished it.


    If you hurt, would you banish yourself, too, Madness? Dorthna thought, placing a hand on Madness'' head.


    ¡°Luck is also a stat in life,¡± he said as much to himself as he did to Madness. ¡°You do not have it because it cannot be quantified. And if it was quantifiable, it would not be a steady number. It would fluctuate chaotically. But it exists.¡±


    Madness¡¯ jaw moved but he said nothing. Dorthna wondered if the Oath was in fact trying to say anything.


    ¡°Even as old as I am, luck continues to work in my favor as much as it works against me,¡± he continued, watching Madness die, watching Madness involuntarily kill himself. ¡°You should know that Life could not save you because you did not let him. Or, more accurately, you could not let him. At your levels, he cannot heal you if you cannot allow yourself to be healed.¡±


    Life would fix the damage but would ultimately be unable to stop the pain. And the pain would continue to cause Madness damage.


    Madness balked as he coughed up more blood. Dorthna¡¯s hold on his shoulder tightened, stopping him from fallen over completely.


    ¡°You¡¯re dying, Madness,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re killing yourself. And the woman you chose is watching it happen. She cannot pay the price to save you and you cannot pay the price to save yourself. But your son can.¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Aurora roared from behind him. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare harm our child.¡±


    Dorthna turned to look at her. ¡°I am sorry to say that your son has already paid the price. And he is more than fine, unharmed.¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    With that said, he returned his attention to Madness.


    ¡°Let it never be said that I paid kindness with neutrality. Even if it was kindness paid without knowing it.¡± He squeezed Madness¡¯ shoulder, applying more pressure. It was enough to make Madness look back up at him. ¡°Your son has given me hope and some more hope. To give someone like me hope is not a thing that is easy to do. I would argue in my own arrogance that hope given to me is worth more than just your life. Would you not?¡±


    Madness said nothing. In fact, his eyes were becoming so glazed over that Dorthna wondered if he was still capable of thought. Still, he did not stop speaking. The Oath had to understand that what was about to happen was not happening because he had earned it.


    ¡°Hope is the gift given to mortal men,¡± he said. ¡°Out in the cosmos, on the path beyond mortality, hope does not exist in the way you understand it. It is known that once you begin to depend on hope, you have lost your right to your place. Out there, the powerful make their own hope.¡±


    Madness coughed up more blood. When he fell this time, Dorthna allowed him. He watched the Oath drop into a puddle of his own blood.


    ¡°But you are simply mortal,¡± he continued, pulling the strand of white hair he had claimed from Melmarc''s head from his pocket and placing it on Madness¡¯ fallen body as the Oath twitched ever so slightly. ¡°So sometimes, hope should work for you. There is no reason for you to become your own hope.¡±


    [You have used skill Eye of The World]


    [Skill Eye of The World is functioning at 1%]


    Dorthna ignored the notification and paid attention to the flow of mana from the single strand of white hair. Pure mana was a powerful thing. More potent than any other form of mana in existence, it was capable of birthing miracles even among the powerful. However, the more powerful a person was, the more pure mana they needed for their miracles.


    The problem with people who used pure mana was that skills guided any form of mana used towards a very specific purpose. Pure mana was not immune to this. A [Healer] with pure mana would only be able to use pure mana to heal. A [Faker] with pure mana would only be able to use pure mana to replicate. At least, if the skill required the pure mana to do as required.


    Dorthna watched the strand of hair pulse with pure mana. Pure, purposeless mana. He had told Melmarc that this was a good and bad thing. The good being how well he would be able to leverage the amount of pure mana he had. The bad, in truth, was worse. Should he garner attention beyond his simple world or of an opponent too grand and knowledgeable in one of the portals he enters, he would find himself to be a very sought after commodity.


    He would be a very strong source of renewable energy with the potential for infinity. Dorthna doubted the existence of more than five beings in Existence with the potential of pure mana he now wielded.


    What it meant was that there were people that would burn worlds to get their hands on him. The [Envoys] would be good deterrents to burning down worlds for Melmarc, but they would not be deterrents to claiming him.


    The wider universe had just become a far deadlier place for this world¡¯s [August Intruder] than the [August Intruder] knew.


    But that was that, and this was this.


    [Eye of the World] gave Dorthna the information he needed it to.


    [Pure mana detected is 100.00%]


    He almost laughed at the notification. Sometimes, being wrong was fun. Dorthna had assumed that a patch of Melmarc¡¯s hair had grown white from absorbing too much pure mana which had led to tainting the hair. A one hundred percent mana detection proved him to be wrong. If the boy¡¯s hair was tainted, the mana levels would be close to a hundred, not a hundred.


    Melmarc hadn¡¯t just absorbed pure mana that he had generated, he was still generating pure mana. And with pure mana at that percentage, it meant that that patch of hair wasn¡¯t even hair.


    Dorthna chuckled at the realization as he prepared the next skill he needed to use. The white hair on Melmarc¡¯s head wasn¡¯t hair. It was pure mana given actual physical form. Pure mana made manifest.


    It was Dorthna¡¯s hope. The rarest thing in all of existence, and the boy was producing a handful of it. It was a pity that he was too weak to know how to use it. He possessed a power that endangered him but could not use it.


    [You have used skill Hand of God]


    [Skill Hand of God is functioning at 1%]


    It was time to recreate this single strand of pure mana.


    [You have failed]


    [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was unsuccessful]


    [Try Again?]


    [Y/N?]


    Dorthna¡¯s lips puckered in slight embarrassment. It had been a possibility, but he hadn¡¯t expected it. At one percent mastery some things were difficult to replicate with a mana imprint of certain low levels and certain high levels. The trick was finding the sweet spot. But at a hundred percent, he hadn¡¯t expected it to be this bad.


    Yes, he thought, selecting his choice.


    [You have failed]


    [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was unsuccessful]


    [Try Again?]


    [Y/N?]


    He made it a point to not look back at Aurora. It would be really embarrassing if after all his monologuing, Madness died in front of him.


    Third time¡¯s the charm, he thought as he selected yes one more time.


    [You have failed]


    [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was unsuccessful]


    [Try Again?]


    [Y/N?]


    Madness twitched once more, coughing up more blood.


    Fourth time¡¯s the charm?


    [You have succeeded]


    [Attempt to recreate item Pure Mana was successful]


    Dorthna suppressed his burst of satisfaction to a simple smile as a second strand of white hair took form on Madness¡¯ body.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Aurora asked.


    ¡°Hope,¡± Dorthna answered as he settled his hands over Madness¡¯ body. ¡°A gift from your son.¡±


    Purposeless and waiting as both strands of hair were, Dorthna infused his own mana into them and granted them purpose.


    It was singular and precise. It was simple and cruel.


    Let him accept the pain.


    the original strand of hair crumbled into white dust, then into smoke, and Madness jerked on the ground. Then he pushed himself up. He staggered to his feet, eyes wide in horror. It was the most emotion Dorthna had seen on the Oath. It was very human, very blatant, very unhidden.


    Madness looked at his blood covered hand, then at Dorthna, eyes growing wider. Then he looked at his wife.


    ¡°Babe,¡± Aurora muttered, stepping forward.


    Dorthna halted her with a single word. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    Madness¡¯ eyes settled back on him, wide like a skittish horse.


    ¡°What have you done?¡± he asked in the terrified trembling voice of any normal man. ¡°I can¡¯t hear the voices. I can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Madness,¡± Dorthna said, not really apologetic. ¡°It was the only way.¡±


    Beside him, Aurora was confused, but Dorthna watched as understanding settled on Madness¡¯ face. His wide eyes dimmed very slowly as realization dawned on him.


    ¡°The only way?¡± he asked.


    Dorthna nodded. ¡°The only way.¡±


    Madness looked at his wife and smiled sadly. ¡°I love you, Aurora Lockwood.¡±


    Panic lit up Aurora¡¯s face like a bonfire and she leapt for her husband. Dorthna didn¡¯t turn to look at her. He kept his eyes on Madness as his hand shot out to the side and sent Aurora stumbling across the living room floor.


    Then Madness dropped to his knees and took his head in both hands. Then his mouth hung open.


    When the pain came, Madness felt it as much as the world around him.


    He did his best to alleviate the pain of it as much as he could in the only reasonable way there was.


    Madness let out a roar like a wild beast. The sound cracked the air around them and sent the ambient mana into chaos. Dorthna felt his mind attempt to split itself into something maddening and fail. The walls of the house cracked as spells broke under the weight of Madness¡¯ pain.


    Dorthna paid Madness the respect of listening as the Oath¡¯s pain threatened to tear this part of the world into a million pieces.


    Madness¡¯s roar filled the world, and the world seemed to roar back in its silence.


    In the corner of the room, Aurora gripped her head in both hands. Impressively, held in the confined space with her husband and Dorthna, she lasted a whooping eight seconds before passing out.


    Dorthna spent the next minute rearranging and recreating spells to keep the house and this section of the world intact as he tanked all the pain that spilled out of Madness¡¯ roar. It was nothing compared to what the Oath was feeling. Still, it was nothing to scoff at.


    But Dorthna stood in place, witness to a curse Madness was going through. It was a curse to return the pain of sanity to a man who had been insane for far too many years.


    In the echoes of Madness¡¯ pain, Dorthna sensed what he was going through.


    He sensed the pain of childbirth and the pain that comes with the loss of a child. He felt the pain of a friend¡¯s betrayal and the pain of betrayal of oneself. He felt the pain that came with the loss of hope. The pain that came with watching a loved one die too early. The loss of a limb to an IED. The betrayal of authority. Pain that pushed people to take their own lives. Pain that pushed people to take the lives of others. The pain of being kicked in the balls. The pain of being tortured for information you did not have. The pain of giving up information you had because you could not hold out against your torturers. The pain of being defiled against your own will.


    He winced at the thought of them all. He did not feel the pain, but he understood the idea of them all. It was a terrible thing. A painful thing.


    As he felt it all, he knew what the Oath of Pain had done to Madness. The Oath skill [Pain of The World] was a very nasty thing to inflict on a person. It ate away at a person as it channeled the pain of the world and that of the Oath of Pain into them. It was designed to last for a handful of moments, to fester away until unconsciousness.


    Madness had refused to give attention to levels of pain that demanded attention. So, it had festered, grown. Something designed to grow for a handful of seconds had festered for what could''ve been hours. It had become a monster of what it was supposed to be. And now Dorthna had forced Madness to experience it sane.


    To experience the level of pain that came from an entire world of sane people gave a whole new meaning to the term Dorthna had called the pain of sanity.


    With a single thought, Dorthna opened a crack in the spells he was weaving through the entire living room. The spells had locked away this section of the world from the rest of the world. Now, however, he allowed the pain to slip out into the world.


    It was only fair that the Oath of Pain feel the pain of the world, after all.


    But pain could kill, Dorthna knew this as well as anyone. So, he walked up to Madness and prepared himself for the final moment. The moment of silence.


    It would come, eventually.


    When it came, it was as deafening as the roar Madness had let out. The very absence of sound left the world feeling dead. But Dorthna was more interested in making sure that Madness and his wife had not slipped into the afterlife on his watch.


    With Aurora crumpled on the ground in the corner, Madness remained upright on his knees, arms hanging limp by his side. His eyes were white, their pupils rolled up into his head. The Oath was soaked in his own blood from head to toe.


    Dorthna placed a finger to his neck, felt his pulse. It was weak, but it was there. That was a good thing.


    Only now could he begin the process of healing Madness.


    Before he did, however, he took a peek at the notification that had appeared in front of the unconscious Oath, completely intended for the unconscious Oath.


    [New feat detected!]


    Dear Oath of Madness, you have taken upon yourself the pain of your very world multiplied by an unknown factor. For a considerable number of seconds, you have taken upon yourself the responsibilities akin to the Oath of Pain and lived. You have survived where most fail.


    [You have gained the title Echo of Pain]


    [Effect: Slight increase in physical stats for every instance of pain received from SS-ranks, Oaths or higher.]


    [Effect: +30% pain resistance when facing an opponent of lower rank.]


    [Effect: +15% pain resistance when facing opponents of SS-ranks, Oaths or higher ranks.]


    ¡­


    [You have gained Oath skill The Pain of Sanity]


    You are insane, cursed with momentary bouts of sanity. The Oath grants the opponent momentary, complete awareness of their sanity.


    Dorthna resisted the urge to expand the new Oath skill. Taking his attention from Madness¡¯ notifications, he looked the Oath in his unconscious eyes.


    ¡°I guess something good came out of it,¡± he said. ¡°You are shaping up to be a false Oath of Pain, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    As impossible as it sounded to possess two Oaths, only the insane did the impossible. If anyone was going to do it, it might as well be the Oath in charge of that very insanity, wasn¡¯t it?


    ¡­


    ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t know?¡± Inevitability¡¯s voice pierced the air like a whip.


    It made Pain groan as his full consciousness returned to him. He had a splitting headache, but he could at least string his thoughts and his words together now. Madness¡¯ skill had finally been lifted from him.


    ¡°What I mean,¡± Life¡¯s voice came through the air like a gentle whisper, ¡°is that I went to Madness¡¯ room and found him in a terrible state. When I tried to help, I could not.¡±


    ¡°You are telling me that you could not heal Madness?¡± Inevitability demanded.


    Pain opened his eyes finally and pushed himself to a sitting position in time to hear Life¡¯s response.


    ¡°I could not,¡± Life answered. ¡°So, his wife took him away. I believe they have gone in search of a [Healer] that can.¡±


    Inevitability scoffed in annoyance. ¡°You are Life, for God¡¯s sake. If you can¡¯t heal him, who can?¡±


    The old man shook his head. ¡°There is no healer greater than me on this world. I am sorry. It is only a matter of time before your generation loses its strongest Oath.¡±


    Pain had triumphed over Madness in the end. It was what it sounded like to him. But while he had wanted to win, he had not wanted to kill the Oath.


    ¡°I might be able to help,¡± he groaned, pushing himself off the bed.


    They were in a simple room with a large bed at the center. A brown couch long enough for three men to sit on rested on one side of the room. There was a reading table in the corner as well. But of all the things present, Pain was most aware of the fact that there were only three people in the room. Him, Inevitability and Life.


    The two other occupants turned to him at his words.


    ¡°If what Life said about the apocalypse is true and Madness being our strongest Oath, we can¡¯t afford to lose him,¡± he said, maintaining his balance as the world wobbled around him. ¡°If we can get me to him, I¡¯m sure I can reverse what I did to him as long as what I did to him is the problem.¡±


    Life gave him a flat look. ¡°You don¡¯t look like you are in any position to be helping anybody, Pain.¡±


    ¡°Maybe not, but Madness needs help.¡± Pain shook his head, trying to dispel the headache he was experiencing. ¡°We just need to get me to him on time and I can¡ª¡±


    Pain¡¯s brows furrowed as something shifted in the world. He couldn¡¯t tell what exactly it was, but it was something in the pain.


    Had another portal just opened? A moment of thought told him that it was not the case.


    But he could feel new pain, a different kind of pain. It was¡ª


    ¡°Oh fuck.¡±


    It was all that was left to him as his knees gave out on him. Pain exploded within his very being far greater than he remembered pain ever being. He blamed it on his current state of weakness as his knees buckled under him and he dropped to them.


    Then he crumbled to the floor like a demolished building. His interface popped up in front of him, and he only got to see the first few words before the pain struck him in full force and his world went white.


    [New Feat Detected!]

 ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN: Pure Blooded

    The room was bright when Melmarc opened his eyes again. Someone had left the curtains open so the light shined directly into his eyes. Wincing from the discomfort, he turned his head to the side.


    His throat was dry, parched. If he was to liken the feeling to anything, he would liken it to a man who had been in the desert for far too long or someone new to hiking who¡¯d found themselves on an eight-hour hike with no water in sight.


    It was annoying.


    When he tried to make a sound to test how bad it was, a groan escaped his lips, the sound bouncing around his throat like a dropped rock in a dry crevice before coming out.


    As bad as it was, Melmarc tried not to dwell on it. There were more important things to do, one of which was getting away from the light.


    Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he tossed his legs over the bed and rested his elbows on his laps. His head hung down, turned to the ground. It took Melmarc only a moment to realize that he was tired. Weary.


    It wasn¡¯t a physical thing. As parched as his throat felt, his body felt healthy, full of life. He could run a marathon and not get tired. The throat was merely an annoyance. So, no, his weariness was of the mind.


    He was tired, mentally fatigued, as if he¡¯d just dealt with five arguing Delanos with five opposing conspiracy theories.


    Why? He asked himself with no memories of ever being tired.


    With the question came the realization that he couldn¡¯t recall when he¡¯d even fallen asleep. Turning, he reached for the space beside his pillow, just on top of his black bed sheet and paused. A tired sigh left his lips as he ran his hand through his hair.


    I don¡¯t have a phone, he remembered.


    Whenever he woke up from his sleep, his phone was always there, right next to his head. Checking the time was just a raised phone away.


    That was another confusion. He¡¯d lost that habit since ending up in the portal without a phone that told the correct time and coming back to a home without a phone at all. A frown creased his brow as he wondered where the instinct had returned from.


    I need to get up.


    He needed to check the time, and the room he and Ark shared had no clock. Why? Because it just had none. There was no reason for a clock in their room when there was one in the living room and they had their phones almost always in their faces.


    The simple thought jogged a random memory. It was of a conversation with Ark that had led to him waking up to so much pain. A frown line creased Melmarc¡¯s brow as he remembered his conversation with Uncle Dorthna.


    He had been awake then. Melmarc also remembered the pain. Uncle Dorthna had said that pain came with any proper healing. It had also added stat points to his [Constitution] stat.


    Melmarc found that he didn¡¯t like pulling these memories as if he was reading from a book. Still, it was all he had to work with. They were his memories after all.


    As he recalled, he remembered his uncle stepping out of the room, leaving him and Ark together. Ark had been sent to get him a new phone. Maybe that had been where his instinct to pick up his phone had returned from.


    But I don¡¯t have a phone.


    Melmarc looked at the spot where his phone would¡¯ve been if he¡¯d had one and remembered why there was none. Because Ark didn¡¯t buy the phone.


    If he remembered correctly, Ark hadn¡¯t bought the phone because he hadn¡¯t been sure what phone Melmarc would¡¯ve wanted. The plan was for the both of them to go out and buy the phone together.


    Well, that¡¯s annoying, Melmarc thought as he took in another deep breath and let it out very slowly.


    Why was everything so annoying? Why was his mind so tired? When had he even fallen asleep?


    The answer to his questions came as one. In its singularity, it brought pain.


    Melmarc winced as he felt it. It was a sharp pain in his head as if someone had run him through with a twelve-inch needle. He groaned under the pain. His head fell lower and he held it up with a hand placed carefully against its side.


    His eyes pressed shut as the pain grew and he shut his eyes tighter against it. Against his will, his mouth stretched open and a soundless groan slipped from it as he remembered why he¡¯d gone back to sleep.


    So much pain, he cried in his mind.


    He had felt someone die. Then he had heard someone scream. He had also felt someone die as they gave birth to knew life. Someone had been shot in the back of the head yet had survived. Someone had been curb stomped.


    Bile rose in his throat. Melmarc stopped it before he threw up, swallowing it back down.


    There had been so much pain. It had been too much to handle. Then he had passed out right in front of a very worried Ark.


    The moment he was done remembering, the pain left him and he sucked in a deep breath. Melmarc had no idea when he had stopped breathing. Now, however, he was panting.


    ¡°What the hell was that about?!¡± he hissed, suddenly very angry. ¡°Who the hell¡ª¡±


    The rest of his words died in his head as he realized that there was nobody he could hold responsible.


    Uncle Dorthna had said that he had awakened properties relating to pain. It was the reason he had suggested that the pain from being healed was good for him. Was this what he had meant by it? Was this what Melmarc was going to have to deal with?


    I don¡¯t want it.


    The thought was strong in his mind, singular. It was unquestioned.


    Calm down, he told himself, taking in another breath. You¡¯re just cranky right now.


    At least now he understood where his weariness was coming from. Knowing was always the first step to solving any problem. First, you found out what the problem was. Then you found the source of it.


    Melmarc pushed himself up from the bed and got to his feet. His eyes narrowed in surprise as he realized that he felt sturdier, firmer somehow, as if no one could move him from wherever he chose to stand as long as he chose not to move.


    At the same time, however, he felt lighter, like a feather. There was no sprint he could not win.


    Cataloguing the feelings away as the feelings that they were, he moved to leave the room, stopping only when he¡¯d gotten to Ark¡¯s bed.


    Clothes, he thought to himself, realizing that he was standing in only his briefs.


    He moved to his wardrobe and opened it. It was casually demarcated into two main sections. One belonged to Ark while the other belonged to him. Although, every now and again he kept on finding Ark¡¯s clothes in his section of the wardrobe. He never complained about it because it never bothered him.


    Searching for what to wear was quick, and in a matter of moments he was wearing simple white shorts that settled just below his knees.


    Uninterested in wearing a shirt, he turned and walked out of the room.


    Bounding down the stairs taught him that he had a headache. It was a small thing, minute in its existence, but it was there, happy to have his attention each time his head bobbed. So he stopped bounding down the stairs as he liked to do and took gentle steps.


    ¡°You¡¯re up,¡± a voice called out before Melmarc had even walked into the living room.


    ¡°I¡¯m up,¡± Melmarc confirmed.


    ¡°And cranky, too, from the sound of your voice,¡± Ark added.


    Sitting on the ground in the living room was Ark and Uncle Dorthna. They were playing card games. Judging by the frown on their uncle¡¯s face, Ark was winning.


    ¡°I woke up with a headache,¡± Melmarc muttered as he walked up to them.


    With his face still buried in his cards, Uncle Dorthna said, ¡°Are you cheating, Ark?¡±


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Ark snorted.


    Their uncle looked at him from over his cards. ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Very.¡± Ark looked down at his cards and smirked as he pulled one from among them. ¡°Besides, you and I both know that you would know if I was.¡±


    He played the card, and their uncle groaned when he looked at it. To the side, there was a deck of cards that he reached for, taking one from the top.


    ¡°Contrary to what you might think,¡± he said as he added the card to his stack, ¡°I am not all knowing.¡±


    ¡°But you know all.¡± Ark took a moment before playing another card.


    ¡°I know a lot,¡± their uncle corrected. ¡°A lot, being the key phrase in this sentence.¡±


    Ark raised a brow at him. ¡°A lot sounds like code for all.¡±


    Their uncle groaned in exasperation. ¡°Mel.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Uncle?¡±


    ¡°Please tell your coconut headed brother that I do not know all.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d be more than happy to,¡± Melmarc said with a shrug. ¡°But you kinda know all.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna threw his hands up in frustration. ¡°I know a lot.¡±


    ¡°You always have the answers to our questions,¡± Ark pointed out.


    ¡°Even the answer to the questions we haven¡¯t even thought of asking,¡± Melmarc added.


    Uncle Dorthna pursed his lips in confusion and looked at him. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be the reasonable one?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m cranky right now.¡±


    ¡°Besides, he¡¯s still being reasonable.¡± Ark gestured to the cards, urging their uncle to play.


    ¡°Don¡¯t rush me,¡± Uncle Dorthna grumbled before pulling a card out of his stack and putting it down. ¡°And Mel isn¡¯t being reasonable. He¡¯s being cranky.¡± He looked up at Melmarc. ¡°Headache?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°A small but annoying one.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna nodded but said nothing to add to that line of conversation. ¡°How many cards do you have left, Ark?¡±


    ¡°Four.¡± Ark looked at their uncle¡¯s hand. ¡°I don¡¯t think I need to ask how many you have, do I?¡±


    As fun as watching his older brother mock their uncle was, Melmarc was more interested in why there was no furniture in the living room and the both of them didn¡¯t seem bothered by it.


    ¡°Why are we playing cards?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Because there¡¯s no television,¡± Uncle Dorthna answered.


    ¡°No chairs either,¡± Ark supported, gesturing around with one hand. ¡°Obviously.¡±


    Melmarc gave the two of them a flat look. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you and Uncle Dorthna thrashed the whole place during your fight.¡±


    Melmarc opened his mouth but closed it back.


    Oh.


    He remembered that. Not the fight itself but being told about it. If he was not mistaken, Uncle Dorthna claimed to have beat him up not gotten in a fight with him.


    ¡°The television, too?¡± he asked.


    Ark nodded simply and played another card.


    ¡°I want to quit,¡± their uncle grumbled.


    ¡°I get two hundred if you quit,¡± Ark said with a sinister chuckle.


    Melmarc¡¯s eyes grew wide in surprise. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, you guys put a wager on this?¡±


    Ark¡¯s sinister smile became a full blown laugh. ¡°Oh, yes we did,¡± he answered happily. ¡°Oh yes we did.¡±


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°But Uncle Dorthna doesn¡¯t bet.¡±


    ¡°I do¡­ sometimes,¡± Uncle Dorthna corrected. ¡°I did this time.¡±


    ¡°Have you played cards before?¡±


    Their uncle nodded even though he was still frowning.


    ¡°Have you played cards with Ark before?¡± Melmarc clarified.


    ¡°I played cards with you guys as kids.¡±


    ¡°Recently, Uncle D?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna shook his head.


    Walking over to Ark, Melmarc leaned over and looked at his cards. Ark shot him an annoyed look in response, hiding the contents of his cards. He was a little too slow because Melmarc had already seen them.


    He moved over to his uncle¡¯s side and looked at his uncle¡¯s hand.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± his uncle asked, staring Ark down. Ark smiled back at their uncle¡¯s death glare.


    ¡°Not a chance in two heavens,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°How much did you wager?¡±


    ¡°Lost fifty on the first match,¡± his uncle answered.


    ¡°Then he doubled down,¡± Ark laughed. ¡°Then went the extra mile to add a clause. Whoever quits pays the other two hundred.¡±


    Melmarc pressed his lips in a thin line. Why exactly had their uncle dug himself into a hole?


    ¡°Lose with dignity and don¡¯t put money on any card game with Ark again,¡± he told his uncle. ¡°He goes super intelligent when playing cards. Which is weird because card games are annoying.¡±


    ¡°You could¡¯ve told me that months or years ago when you found out,¡± his uncle replied, playing the wrongest card he had to play by Melmarc¡¯s standards.


    The card was so wrong that Melmarc couldn¡¯t stop himself from grimacing.


    ¡°You winced,¡± Uncle Dorthna accused, reaching out to snatch his card back very quickly.


    ¡°No way,¡± Ark laughed, snatching the card faster. ¡°You don¡¯t get to take back a card you¡¯ve played. This ain¡¯t the junior league. You¡¯re at the big boys¡¯ table.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have a table, Ark,¡± their uncle pointed out.


    Ark placed their uncle¡¯s card back. ¡°It¡¯s a metaphoric table, uncle.¡± Then he played his own card, accompanying it with a smile.


    Dorthna saw the smile then the card. ¡°The next training you have is going to involve me sparring with you.¡±


    That sounded eerily like a threat, a grumbled one.


    Ark was unfazed. ¡°I¡¯m seventeen, and beating up a minor is illegal in this country.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s going to stop me?¡±


    ¡°Ninra?¡± Melmarc suggested in good banter.


    Ark stiffened at the same time their uncle did. Melmarc always found their reaction to his sister¡¯s authority to be interesting. They loved her and feared her wrath in equal parts.


    But why was Ark worried by the mention of her name this time? It wasn¡¯t as if she was going to¡­


    A slow smile stretched Melmarc¡¯s lips as he looked at his brother.


    Ark saw the look and beat Melmarc to whatever he thought Melmarc was going to say.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡± It was supposed to be a warning, but it came out like a plea.


    Their uncle jumped on the tone almost immediately.


    ¡°Please dare,¡± he said. ¡°No idea what¡¯s going on right now, but please dare.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t even know what we¡¯re talking about,¡± Ark accused.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have to,¡± Uncle Dorthna returned. ¡°I only have to know that it might save me from paying two hundred dollars.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got money. Two hundred dollars is nothing to you.¡±


    Their uncle shook his head sagely. ¡°It¡¯s not about the money, young one. It is about the principle. An uncle should never lose to his nephew.¡±


    Melmarc cocked an incredulous brow. ¡°You lost the first round, though.¡±


    ¡°There were no witnesses, so it didn¡¯t happen.¡±


    ¡°You just told me that it happened.¡±


    Uncle Dorthna gave him the most deadpan look. ¡°Was it documented?¡±


    Ark was already laughing his lungs out.


    ¡°Really?¡± Melmarc asked their uncle. ¡°Is that the card you¡¯re playing?¡±


    Uncle Dorthna must¡¯ve heard the threat in his voice because his own tone changed very quickly. ¡°No. Not at all. I would never do such a thing.¡±


    Melmarc paused for a very brief moment. In the silence his brain took in the entire situation and a smile touched his lips gently. It stretched slowly until it began to feel embarrassing.


    ¡°Alright, Ark,¡± he said, turning to his brother with a fuzzy warmth brewing in his chest. ¡°You got your fifty from the first round. Let Uncle D keep his money or I¡¯m telling Nin.¡±


    Nobody said anything for a moment. In the same moment, however, a slow, triumphant smile touched their uncle¡¯s lips. Melmarc allowed himself to bask in it. In the simplicity of a family simply having fun.


    Their uncle being jovial with them. Everyone forgetful of the entire hassle they¡¯d been going through. For a moment he¡¯d even forgotten his headache and the fact that he was supposed to be cranky.


    It was the beauty in the simple things.


    But the beauty in the simple things could not be allowed to overthrow the necessary things.


    ¡°How long was I out?¡± Melmarc asked nobody in particular, taking the ease out of the room as they focused on the question.


    Ark was the one to answer with a question of his own. ¡°From the first time you passed out or the second time?¡±


    There was a touch of guilt in his voice.


    No, pain.


    Melmarc sensed it easily. It was guilt but it was also pain.


    The pain of guilt?


    Melmarc didn¡¯t know that there was pain in guilt. There was guilt, but¡­


    This was new.


    Why would he even be feeling guilty about what happened?


    ¡°The second time,¡± Melmarc answered.


    ¡°Three days,¡± Ark said. ¡°Three long days.¡±


    For Melmarc, those three days had been very short, so short that it had taken him a moment to remember that he had even been gone. For him, it had felt like falling asleep without knowing.


    Moving on to the next important thing, he asked, ¡°What about mom and dad? When are they coming back?¡±


    ¡°Your mom and dad are actually in their room,¡± Uncle Dorthna said. ¡°Your dad¡¯s asleep, though.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re back?¡± Melmarc asked, surprised. ¡°When did they get back?¡±


    ¡°Three days ago.¡± Uncle Dorthna gave him a pointed look.


    It was within the same time he had gone unconscious again. His uncle was probably letting him know that they were related.


    Melmarc nodded, then pointed up. ¡°In their room?¡±


    Ark nodded. ¡°Hurry up, though. Remember how I didn¡¯t get you your new phone?¡±


    ¡°I remember.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because you and I are supposed to get it once you¡¯re up, and you¡¯re up.¡± Ark stacked the cards in his hands and combined them with the rest. He held his free hand out to their uncle. ¡°Once we¡¯re done with that, you, mom and dad are supposed to go to Brooklyn.¡±


    Melmarc paused as Uncle Dorthna handed his cards over to Ark enthusiastically.


    ¡°We¡¯ll do the phone thing tomorrow, Ark. I just can¡¯t muster the strength for it today.¡± Melmarc said, then paused. ¡°Wait, did they say why we¡¯re going to Brooklyn?¡±


    Ark shook his head. ¡°No idea. I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s to go pick up your stuff. Your clothes and all that.¡±


    Nodding, Melmarc left his uncle and brother and headed for the kitchen. He needed a cup of water first.


    Nothing had changed about the kitchen, not that he had expected to notice anything. The kitchen smelled like fried egg sauce. The culprit wasn¡¯t hard to notice. Opening a pot¡ªnot a pan¡ªMelmarc found enough egg sauce to feed three people¡ªthree large people.


    He closed it, took a cup and headed for the tap. It had been so long since water had tasted as good as it did as it went down his throat. Something caught his attention as he drank. It stood out so blatantly that he couldn¡¯t help but pause his drinking to look at it.


    Among the knives hanging from the wall, one stood out in sharp contrast. It had a very clear indentation of four fingers. Finishing his cup of water, he took the knife and met Ark and Uncle Dorthna.


    Holding it up for them to see, he asked, ¡°Do I want to know?¡±


    ¡°You threw it at Uncle Dorthna¡¯s eye, and he caught it with a little too much force,¡± Ark answered easily.


    There was that touch of guilt again. That sense of pain. Melmarc would have to talk to his brother about that, but not now.


    He turned back to the kitchen and returned the knife.


    Right now, he had to see his parents.


    As he went upstairs, Uncle Dorthna called after him.


    ¡°Every Gifted should learn the habit of always checking their interface, especially after going unconscious,¡± he said. ¡°It keeps you updated.¡±


    Melmarc wanted to shout back that he knew. But he couldn¡¯t. For all his life long dreams of being a Gifted and learning the things he was supposed to know, he hadn¡¯t checked his interface after waking up.


    So, as he approached his parents¡¯ room, he pulled up his interface, not to his personal details but to the notifications he had missed.


    [New feat detected!]


    [Dear August Intruder, you have drawn from the core of your very existence and taken upon yourself a level of mana in its purest form greater than your very capacity. You have been thrown into a state of madness and lived to tell the tale. In your terror, you have come to understand that when all hope is lost, madness reigns.]


    [You have gained the title Mad God]


    [Effect: +5 Endurance stat points.]


    [Effect: +80% increase in Endurance when title is in effect.]


    [Effect: +80% of pain received is ignored when title is in effect.]


    [Effect: +60% increase in mana stat when title is in effect.]


    ¡­


    [New feat detected!]


    [Dear August Intruder, you have drowned in the depths of mana in its purest form and come out with your mind and body intact where most are washed away, scrubbed clean of their very existence. In your existence, you have earned the respect of Existence.]


    [You have gained the title Mana Blessed]


    [Effect: +8 increase in mana stats.]


    [Effect: All mana-based damage received is reduced by 30%.]


    [Effect: All mana-based damage dealt is increased by 40%.]


    ¡­


    [New feat detected!]


    [Dear August Intruder, you have drowned in the depths of mana in its purest form and come out with your mind and body intact where most are washed away, scrubbed clean of their very existence. You have gifted a part of yourself to mana in its purest form. Mana does not simply exist within you; it flows in your veins.]


    [You have gained trait Pure Blooded]


    [Effect: High resistance to natural mana poisoning.]


    [Effect: High resistance to mana poisoning from Sentient beings]


    [Effect: Medium resistance to mana poisoning from Sapient beings]


    [Effect: +30% increase to mana regeneration speed]


    ¡­


    [New feat detected!]


    [Dear August Intruder, you have done the impossible. You have given hope to the hopeless. You have shown ???? the meaning of hope. When all hope is lost, may you shine the brightest.]


    [You have gained the title Hope of ????]


    [Effect: +40% increase in all stats to all allies nearby when all hope is lost.]


    [Effect: Dispel all status debuffs placed on allies nearby by opponents up to two ranks higher when all hope is lost]


    Melmarc stood in front of the door to his parents¡¯ room now, mouth open in confusion and surprise. His interface was showing him a lot of titles, all of them gained from a single fight against his uncle. He was sure that there were other factors involved besides just being beaten up by his uncle but¡­


    What the hell?


    And it wasn¡¯t done.


    [Congratulations! August Intruder, due to a sudden bout of growth in your Pain concept, you have gained your first August Intruder skill.]


    ¡­


    [You have gained August Intruder skill My Gift to You]


    Pain should be shared. The August Intruder stores up pain inflicted upon them and releases it in a blast around them.


    My Gift to You (Mastery 00.00%)


    Upon release of blast you are slowed by -2 stats for 0.03 seconds.


    Blast deals stun effect on affected enemies.


    Blast deals stun damage dependent on the amount of pain received.


    Skill possesses 00:02:00 cooldown.


    Skill perks:


    Mental +3 Balance +1 Endurance +3


    Melmarc¡¯s hand knocked absently on his parents¡¯ door. A single thought was all that was on his mind as he pulled up his personal information and knocked again.


    [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]


    [Class: Faker ¨C Call of The Wild (Mastery -48.19%)]


    [Rank: B]


    [Growth Potential: Unranked]


    [Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]


    Titles


    [Slayer], [Mad God], [Mana Blessed], [Hope of ????]


    August Intruder Skills


    [My Gift to You (Mastery 0.00%)]


    Skills


    [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 22.00%)], [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 20.84%)], [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 22.00%)], [Secrecy (Mastery 15.61%)], [Mana Dilation (Mastery 3.00%)], [Not So Fast (Mastery 3.30%)], [Weight of Jupiter (Mastery 5.00%)]


    Perks


    [Optimum Existence (17.02%)]


    The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.


    Stats


    [Agility 8, Balance 12 -- > 13, Mental 16 -- > 19, Mana 42-- > 50, Strength 14, Dexterity 7, Accuracy 6, Speed 5, Constitution 10, Endurance 0 -- > 8]


    Traits


    [Purified], [Pure Blooded]


    [Calculating¡­]


    ¡­


    [Total EP 103]


    Looking at his personal information told Melmarc a few things. The first was that his details were growing in number. The second was that he still had no idea what calculating was. [Optimum Existence] had grown in percentage, but with the pain thing going on, he couldn''t say he was surprised.


    The final thing he noted was that he did not have the stats of a [Faker] anymore. In fact, the only thing he had in common with his own class was his high levels of mana. And even those mana levels belonged to someone with a mana-based class in the¡­


    He wanted to say S-ranks, but he couldn¡¯t be sure.


    Looking at the [Purified] trait, he focused on it.


    Trait


    [Purified]


    You are a repository of pure mana. All skills cast are cast using pure mana. All mana poisoning effects are reduced by 50%.


    Oh.


    With [Purified] and [Pure Blooded], he was practically immune to mana poisoning. That wasn¡¯t just a good thing, it was a great thing. Delvers often returned from toxic portals, bedridden from mana poisoning. At least now he would not have to worry about that.


    Now that he had seen his personal information, Melmarc could confidently confirm one simple truth.


    He smiled widely. I¡¯m a fucking Tank.


    ¡°Come in, dear.¡±


    His mother¡¯s voice from beyond the door pulled him to the present, but not away from his ecstasy. Despite ending up with the [Faker] class, his dreams of being a daunting, physical presence were very well within reach.


    His parents¡¯ door was not locked so Melmarc opened it and stepped inside. Closing the door behind him, he turned to face his mother.


    His parents¡¯ room was large. On one side of the room was a window currently covered in curtains that gave the room a calm ambience. Light streamed in through the curtains, but it was muted. A large bed fit for three people his father¡¯s size settled at the center of the room, pressed against the wall opposite the door. There was a large, black shelf that spanned from the ground to the roof. Books in countless numbers filled it. As a child, Melmarc had often borrowed books from that specific shelf to read until he was old enough to buy his own books. When he was old enough to buy his own books, he did not. E-books had gained popularity, after all.


    As for the color of the walls, it was a simple light brown, like the pages of old books.


    Melmarc stared at his parents on their bed. His father was a calm presence, lying motionless on his bed. He lay on his back so that he faced the ceiling above. His mother, however, sat at the edge of the bed, just beside his father. She was looking at him now, when he was sure that her entire attention had been on his father before his appearance.


    The sight of her sufficed to wipe the ecstasy of knowing that his dream was coming true from Melmarc¡¯s mind.


    With her bloodshot eyes, dull skin, unkempt hair, and current choice of clothing being a shirt so oversized that it had to be his father¡¯s worn over a very baggy pair of pants, his mother was slouched very terribly even in her seated position. Her shoulders drooped, and her eyes lacked the light of life that he knew his mother for.


    Melmarc had a lot of words he could use to describe his mother. But he doubted any long lines of sentences would do any justice. So, as he had once read in a book a long time ago, simplicity was always the most suitable answer in complex times.


    Therefore, he only had one word to describe his mother in this moment. It saddened him to know that it was a word he had never associated with her.


    His mother looked weak.


    But even in her weakness, she remained motherly. Her eyes settled on him and they saddened a little more.


    ¡°Oh, Mel,¡± she cooed in sad worry, ¡°it¡¯s cold.¡± She pushed herself up from the bed and headed into the room¡¯s walking closet. ¡°Let me get you a shirt. You shouldn¡¯t be walking around without one in this weather.¡±

 ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN: Run, You Little Fucker

    Melmarc watched his mother go through his father¡¯s clothes in a hurry. With the door closed behind him, he took a few more steps deeper into the room. His eyes glanced over at his father, but he didn¡¯t allow it to settle on him.


    A lot of people liked to talk about how peaceful people were in their sleep, sometimes even about how peaceful they were in their coffins. As for Melmarc, he couldn¡¯t really say anything about how peaceful his father was in his current sleep. The reason was because his father mostly had only one expression. Nothing. And the same expression of nothing was what was currently on his face.


    He would be lying if he said that it wasn¡¯t peaceful in its own way, though.


    ¡°This should fit you.¡±


    Melmarc turned to find his mother walking out of the walk-in closet with one of his father¡¯s shirts in her hand. It was a big purple shirt. Wooly with the design of a cute white bunny on the front complete with a purple bow tie, Melmarc remembered when she¡¯d gotten it for his father a few years ago. He¡¯d probably seen his father wear it eight times at the most.


    Personally, he and Ark had a feeling that their father shared the same thoughts as they did about the shirt. The shirt was ugly.


    Now his mother held it up by both long sleeves and was walking up to him.


    ¡°Oh, wipe that look off your face,¡± she said with a sigh as she all but dumped it on his shirt. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad.¡±


    Melmarc took it and held it up as well. It was almost twice his size. He was tall, but his father was taller. He was athletic in build, but his father was of a very dominant size.


    ¡°I never said it was bad,¡± he muttered.


    His mother was already walking back to the bed. ¡°But you were thinking it.¡±


    Melmarc couldn¡¯t argue about that. Still, he didn¡¯t immediately put the shirt on.


    Remembering what Uncle Dorthna had all but insinuated about how him passing out again might¡¯ve had something to do with his parent¡¯s return home and finding his dad asleep, Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but ask the question on his mind.


    ¡°What¡¯s up with dad?¡±


    His mother looked at his father with a warm smile before looking back at Melmarc.


    ¡°He¡¯s resting,¡± she answered.


    Dissonant.


    Melmarc held back the sigh that bubbled up at his own mind. This was not the time to be catching his parents in a lie. If his mother said that his father was resting, it wouldn¡¯t be a bad idea to take her word for it.


    The problem, however, was that it was not her word.


    ¡°Is Ark adopted?¡± he asked.


    His mother raised an incredulous brow, yet there was a touch of mirth on her lips. ¡°Of course he¡¯s adopted,¡± she joked. ¡°With all the headache he gives me, God knows I wouldn¡¯t pick him from a line of crack babies.¡±


    Dissonant.


    The thought had been expected but Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but cock a brow at his mother¡¯s words. His jaw hung loose in complete shock.


    His mother gave him a sheepish smile. ¡°Too much?¡±


    Melmarc gave her a flat look as he tried to hide his smile. ¡°You think?¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± his mother conceded, then gestured vaguely at his head. ¡°So what did your mind thingy say? You know, the lie detector thing.¡±


    ¡°That Ark isn¡¯t adopted,¡± he answered, shirt still in his hands. He was hoping to start and finish the entire conversation without wearing the shirt.


    ¡°Sad,¡± his mother said, shaking her head. ¡°Must be broken. You¡¯re also adopted, by the way.¡±


    Dissonant.


    ¡°Ha ha,¡± Melmarc laughed sarcastically. ¡°Jokes on you, I found my adoption papers years ago.¡±


    It was his mother¡¯s turn to cock a brow. She was smiling, though. So that was a good thing.


    ¡°How did you know?¡± Melmarc asked after a while, knowing that she knew he was talking about his ¡®dissonant¡¯ trait, or, as she had aptly put it, his lie detector.


    ¡°I lied to you and you immediately followed it up with a bizarre question you obviously knew the answer to,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve been married to your father for more than twenty years. Trust me, I know what it looks like when he catches me in a lie.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    That made sense.


    ¡°Although,¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s kind of odd getting the same reaction from my son. Also, the shirt isn¡¯t ugly. It¡¯s cute. Now put it on.¡±


    Melmarc held the shirt up for her to see. ¡°It¡¯s really ugly, mom.¡±


    ¡°Is it the bunny?¡± she asked with a slightly worried expression. ¡°Because I think the bunny is cute. And I got it in purple so that it looks more masculine.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a bunny with a bow tie, mom,¡± Melmarc made a vague gesture with his hand to implied that her logic was shaky. ¡°Even in midnight black it¡¯ll be hard to make it look masculine.¡±


    She stared at the shirt for a moment as if trying to make heads and tails of it. In the end she sighed.


    ¡°You know your father isn¡¯t a man of many words, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°It has not skipped my attention.¡±


    ¡°Is that sass I hear?¡± she asked giving him a gentle but warning look.


    Melmarc smiled. ¡°No, mother.¡±


    ¡°Good boy. Anyway,¡± she continued. ¡°Do you know that I won him this shirt at a carnival? That one we went to a few years back that they almost kicked Ark out.¡±


    He and Ark had gotten on the deadliest ride at the carnival. It had been completely insane and terrifying, built by a group of people with the [Crafter] class, so that it went slightly beyond the laws of physics. In summary, Ark had almost been kicked out because when everyone had gotten on the ride, he had¡ªto the awareness of everyone present just when it was starting to move¡ªraised up a bolt and had asked if anyone knew where it had come from.


    It was irresponsible and very unkind, but it was also Ark. At least before he¡¯d learned that not all jokes that his family could handle were jokes that normal people could handle.


    Melmarc had never seen a collective group of people go so white in perfect harmony before.


    It had taken a lot of apologizing from Ninra to keep them from getting kicked out before their parents had come to smooth things over.


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I know the one.¡±


    ¡°Well, do you know what your father said when I handed him the shirt?¡± his mother asked.


    Melmarc shook his head.


    ¡°One word. Ugly.¡± She shook her head, smiling. ¡°That¡¯s it. He disliked the shirt so much that he had to make a comment on it.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Yea,¡± his mother nodded. ¡°Then the moment Ark saw it, he said it looked like purple play dough gone wrong. I swear your brother was a fun, mean child. What does purple play dough gone wrong even look like to a kid?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged because he actually had no idea. As a kid, play dough had just looked like play dough to him. Now, they just looked like¡­ Play dough, I guess.


    As for his mother¡¯s question, he held up the shirt. ¡°It looks like this, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Put on the shirt, Mel,¡± she told him, pointing a warning finger at him.


    Melmarc obeyed. In all fairness, he hadn¡¯t expected to go this long in the conversation without putting the shirt on.


    Regardless of how ugly anyone in the family thought the shirt was, he could not deny that it was actually comfortable. If it had actually been as cold as his mother claimed, he was sure it would¡¯ve warmed him up a little.


    ¡°You see,¡± his mother smiled. ¡°It looks good on you. Now come have a seat. When we got back, your brother said you were sleeping.¡±


    Melmarc walked over to her without complaint because there was no reason for one. He took a comfortable seat in front of her with legs crossed in front of him like a monk.


    His mom frowned. ¡°Why the floor?¡±


    ¡°It just made sense,¡± he said with a shrug of his shoulders.


    ¡°I will not even pretend to understand. Anyway, I checked up on you a few times. You know, made sure you were properly cleaned and all that.¡± She gave him a sheepish smile.


    ¡°Please tell me you were the one cleaning me.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± she gave him a daring look. ¡°Would you like your mother to tell you that while you, a sixteen-year-old boy, were lying down unconscious she was wiping you down. From head to toe?¡±


    Melmarc thought about it for a very brief moment and shivered. ¡°I don¡¯t want to know if I was being cleaned.¡±


    His words got a soft laugh out of his mother.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she continued. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but notice the hair.¡±


    Melmarc reached up absently and ran his hand through his hair. ¡°The hair?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a white spot. You¡¯ve not seen it?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I haven¡¯t.¡±


    Melmarc was aware of it, but he hadn¡¯t seen it.


    His mother turned away from him. ¡°One moment.¡± Reaching beside the pillow at the edge of the bed closest to her, she picked up her phone. After a few taps, she handed it over to him. ¡°Here.¡±


    Melmarc took the phone and found the front facing camera turned on. Right there, staring at him on the screen, was his face. Above his left eye his hair had a white patch. A handful of hair was a deep pure white from root to tip.


    It gave him a certain kind of look.


    Dangerous? He couldn¡¯t say. It did make him look a bit unique, though. Different. Then again, anyone with a patch of white hair would look unique. The more important question, however, was whether he liked the new look.


    He didn¡¯t have an answer to that one either.


    Before he returned his mother¡¯s phone to her, he paused, catching something on the screen. Drawing the phone closer to his face, he opened his eyes wider.


    His brows furrowed in uncertainty. Were his eyes lighter?


    He turned his head one way, trying to focus on one of his eyes instead of the two of them. He wasn¡¯t the kind of person that normally paid much attention to his pupils, so he couldn¡¯t be sure. But it felt as if his pupils were lighter in color.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± his mother asked.


    Melmarc shook his head, handing her phone back to her. When she took the phone, he paused, giving his decision a second thought.


    He leaned towards her and widened his eyes for her to see. ¡°Do my eyes look lighter to you?¡±


    She placed the phone randomly on the bed and leaned in, stared at his eyes. They remained like that for a moment before she nodded.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she told him. ¡°A little on the lighter side. And your sclera is whiter. Cleaner. Gives you something of a royal look, though.¡±


    Melmarc ignored the last comment but nodded. He ran his hand through his hair again.


    ¡°I like the hair,¡± he muttered, coming to a conclusion on it. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ nice.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± his mother said. ¡°But you¡¯re still going to have to cut it, though. You can¡¯t keep the hair like that forever. You need to look presentable for school.¡±


    Melmarc stiffened almost immediately. He still hadn¡¯t applied to any schools yet. It was so unlike him to be so unprepared. Usually, he was the one telling Ark about how he should do the things he was supposed to do. But here he was.


    His expression must¡¯ve given off something because his mother gave him a look.


    ¡°How many schools have you applied to?¡± she asked.


    Melmarc shook his head sheepishly. ¡°None.¡±


    ¡°Do you need a letter of recommendation from me, or did you get any during your mentorship program?¡±


    ¡°From you?¡± he asked, confused.


    ¡°Of course from me,¡± she insisted. ¡°I might work for the government but I¡¯m still a Delver, you know. And a powerful one.¡±


    She was. That much was true. But Melmarc often found it easy to forget. His parents being Delvers was a normal part of his life, like your parents working for the government. But for him, it was often easy to forget that they were powerful. He blamed it on the simple house and the simple school life.


    The way they lived and spent time together made them feel like simple civil servants when they were most likely as powerful as ministers.


    ¡°I got something from a Delver named Vlad on the school trip,¡± he offered.


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


    ¡°The trip to Boston?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°I think he was a famous Delver in Romania.¡±


    ¡°Vlad Alexandru?¡± she asked, seeming thoughtful.


    Again, Melmarc nodded. ¡°Delano, Eroms and I helped him out with a few things.¡±


    ¡°And he offered you a letter of recommendation? An open one?¡±


    ¡°All three of us, actually,¡± Melmarc clarified. ¡°I think he didn¡¯t want to be rude and ask which of us was Gifted. Since all three of us helped in our own way, I think he just gave all three of us.¡±


    ¡°Vlad Alexandru.¡± His mother said the name as if she was tasting it. ¡°I think I know him. There are people who think he¡¯s some kind of a vampire, right?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°Uncle Dorthna said he knows him.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Your dad and I know him, too.¡± His mother made a face. It was the one she always made when she was done thinking about the subject. ¡°I guess a recommendation from him is good, even if he¡¯s retired.¡±


    But while she was concluding on that subject, her words had brought up another subject in his mind. It was a subject he felt he should address. A question he thought he should ask.


    ¡°Mom?¡±


    ¡°Yes, dear?¡±


    Melmarc hesitated. What he was about to ask felt a little like an invasion of privacy. Still, he wanted to know.


    ¡°Can I ask a question?¡±


    His mother smiled as if motivating him to ask the question. ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°Uncle Dorthna.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯s just that¡­¡±


    ¡°Mel, spit it out. I don¡¯t remember any of my kids being so timid as to beat around the bush.¡±


    Melmarc let out a calming breath. She was right.


    ¡°What is Uncle Dorthna?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s the question?¡± she didn¡¯t seem very surprised despite her words.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Well, that one¡¯s easy.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Powerful. That¡¯s your answer.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°That¡¯s what your uncle is,¡± his mother said. ¡°Powerful.¡±


    Melmarc had been hoping for more. ¡°More powerful than dad?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°More powerful than your dad and I, combined.¡± She gave him a look. ¡°Not the answer you were looking for?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± he admitted. ¡°I was thinking more along the line of species. Is he some kind of demon god or some kind of ancient dragon or something?¡±


    ¡°Honestly,¡± she shrugged. ¡°He insists that he¡¯s human. And when I say he insists, I mean he insists. He¡¯s quite adamant about it.¡±


    That made sense. ¡°He looks human.¡±


    ¡°I know. But why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°Because of something he said,¡± Melmarc answered. ¡°Before you came, I was talking to him after he and I got into a bit of a scuffle in the living room. He¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± his mother interrupted him, not sorry at all. ¡°Did you just say that you got into a scuffle with your uncle?¡±


    Melmarc nodded sheepishly, wondering if he shouldn¡¯t have said that. ¡°It¡¯s why the living room is like that. He didn¡¯t tell you?¡±


    He didn¡¯t know his uncle to keep things as important as that from his parents.


    His mother looked thoughtful. ¡°He did say that there was a scuffle but that it was nothing important. I just assumed you and your brother got into some kind of rough play or something. But you and him? How did that happen?¡±


    Melmarc looked away, hesitant to meet his mother¡¯s gaze. ¡°I kind of blacked out and went into a rampage from what I was told. He had to¡­ put me down.¡±


    ¡°Put you down. Really?¡± His mother did not look the slightest bit amused.


    ¡°He did heal me after I woke up, though,¡± Melmarc hurried to add.


    ¡°So, he didn¡¯t just put you down. He knocked you out.¡± Now his mother looked annoyed. Then she looked thoughtful. ¡°Are you the reason for the notification?¡±


    Melmarc paused. ¡°What notification?¡±


    ¡°At the meeting a bunch of the people there got a notification that¡­¡± she shook her head and waved the entire question aside. ¡°Never mind. It¡¯s not important. It was coming from the house, so I thought maybe your uncle was doing something.¡±


    Melmarc had no idea what she was talking about. But, seeing as she was willing to let the subject lie, he was willing to move the conversation along.


    ¡°So, what did your uncle say?¡± his mother asked.


    ¡°Something about being a shadow of what he used to be,¡± Melmarc said.


    ¡°That much is true. Something happened to him that he doesn¡¯t talk about. Sometimes I think your dad knows what it is.¡±


    ¡°You think dad figured it out?¡± Melmarc was surprised. He didn¡¯t think of his dad as someone who paid that much attention to anything that wasn¡¯t his mom or him and his siblings.


    ¡°No,¡± his mother corrected. ¡°I think he told your dad. But I could be wrong. Your dad doesn¡¯t talk much, and he¡¯s good at keeping other people¡¯s secrets. But, like I said, I could be wrong.¡±


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Melmarc continued. ¡°When I asked him how he could still be so powerful even when he¡¯s a shadow of himself, he said something about a dying dragon still being stronger than an ant.¡±


    His mother laughed. ¡°Those were his words?¡± she asked, amused. ¡°A dying dragon and an ant?¡±


    ¡°I think I was the ant in this situation.¡±


    His mother laughed a handful of seconds longer before composing herself. He chuckled a little before her amusement finally ended. ¡°Your uncle tends to see everyone as an ant, so I guess it doesn¡¯t really matter. Do you think the analogy is correct, though?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Maybe? Do you know that he can see other people¡¯s interfaces when they pull it up?¡±


    That got a very clear reaction from his mother. She paused, frowned. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish drinking water. She seemed to go through a lot of emotions with no certainty of which one to settle on.


    In the end, she let out a defeated sigh. ¡°He can, can he?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°He can.¡±


    His uncle had told him that it was alright to tell his parents about it. In fact, he had practically insinuated that he should. Still, Melmarc couldn¡¯t help but feel like a tattletale, a snitch.


    ¡°That is¡­¡± his mother let her words trail off for a moment, then looked to reconcile a few things. ¡°I guess a few things make sense now. Anyway, have you thought about where you want to go to school?¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°Any where¡¯s fine.¡±


    His mother raised her head and looked to the ceiling as if in silent prayer, then she let out a very, very calming breath.


    ¡°Mel, dear,¡± she said in the most patient motherly tone she could muster.


    Melmarc was suddenly very, very worried. ¡°Yes, mom?¡±


    ¡°You do know that we are not poor, right?¡± she asked.


    Melmarc nodded slowly. ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°We aren¡¯t even middle class.¡±


    Again, Melmarc nodded.


    ¡°We have money.¡±


    ¡°I know, mom. You¡¯re a Delver. You and dad.¡±


    ¡°You and your siblings might even own shares in multiple companies you just don¡¯t have access to. You might be trust fund babies.¡±


    ¡°I get it, mom. We¡¯re rich.¡± Melmarc paused. ¡°Wait. Are we trust babies, like we don¡¯t need to work for the rest of our lives rich?¡±


    When his mother opened her mouth, Melmarc leaned everything into his ability to tell lies. He might¡¯ve leaned forward a little in anticipation.


    His mother¡¯s mouth clamped shut. ¡°I¡¯m not answering that.¡±


    ¡°No fair,¡± Melmarc groaned, and his mother stuck her tongue out at him in a childish display.


    ¡°So is using your ability to tell lies on your mother.¡±


    ¡°In my defense, it was a moment of truth thing,¡± he confessed. ¡°But we¡¯re rich.¡±


    His mother¡¯s lips moved around in contemplation for a while before she said, ¡°Your father and I are rich. Your sister might be selling drugs in school and be building an empire. Honestly, you can never tell with that one. She could be a priest today and a terrorist tomorrow.¡±


    Melmarc could definitely see Ninra doing that. The priest and terrorist thing, not the drugs. Could he see her selling drugs?


    He paused to think about Ninra wearing a dark hoodie in a shady alley in the middle of the night and almost laughed. That was entirely wrong. If his sister sold drugs, she would probably look more legit about it. She¡¯d most likely open a flower shop or something and sell drugs to civilized rich kids.


    A line creased his forehead, and he thought about it. For some reason it made sense.


    Ninra¡¯s selling drugs.


    She probably wasn¡¯t. But she also probably was.


    ¡°Your sister isn¡¯t selling drugs, Mel,¡± his mother snapped at him as if reading his mind.


    ¡°But she could be,¡± he protested.


    ¡°She¡¯s not. For God¡¯s sake, the things you kids come up with.¡±


    ¡°In my defense, you were the one that brought it up.¡±


    ¡°And that one¡¯s my fault,¡± his mother conceded. ¡°So, let¡¯s go back to the original conversation. Now that you remember that your father and I are rich while you and your brother are not, what school do you want to go to?¡±


    ¡°Can it be one of the big five?¡± he asked without missing a beat.


    ¡°The big five?¡±


    ¡°Black bear, Fallen High, Edulard, The Seat of Wisdom, and Classical.¡± He ticked off a finger with each name he called. ¡°But not necessarily in that order. They are the highest ranked Delver schools in the country.¡±


    ¡°I thought they were Gifted schools,¡± his mother said. ¡°Not Delving schools.¡±


    ¡°They are,¡± Melmarc admitted. ¡°But they also have a high rate of Delver alumni.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s what gives them their ranking?¡± his mother asked, absently rubbing his father¡¯s arm gently. ¡°That seems kind of odd, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. ¡°They are ranked high because they always reach high levels in the high school delving tournaments.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± His mother¡¯s face fell. ¡°That. I forgot that high schools also did that.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t like the games?¡±


    She gave him a flat look. ¡°What mother would like the thought of her son going to school and getting into fights.¡±


    ¡°Spars,¡± Melmarc corrected. ¡°And Ark and I spar all the time. In self defense classes. Even ever since we got back from our mentorship program.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s different. It¡¯s in a safe, controlled environment.¡± She sighed. ¡°In those competitions, the kids are practically trying to kill each other.¡±


    ¡°There are always S-rank [Healers] around. And there are rules and mechanisms in place to prevent actual death. It¡¯s a controlled environment, too.¡±


    ¡°What of the mental trauma that comes with it?¡± his mother asked as if she¡¯d won the argument with that question.


    ¡°Kind of hard to be a Delver if you aren¡¯t able to face life and death situations without losing your mind, though. Isn¡¯t it?¡± Melmarc shot back.


    ¡°We don¡¯t send our children to those schools to become Delvers, though.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why participation in the Delving tournaments is totally optional,¡± Melmarc said. ¡°It¡¯s not as if they force all the kids to do it. It¡¯s like sports in school. Only those that want to and are qualified for it, get to make the team and play.¡±


    ¡°And I take it that you¡¯re joining them to make the Delving team and play,¡± his mother said with an unimpressed look.


    Melmarc nodded cautiously. ¡°You don¡¯t want me to?¡±


    ¡°No mother wants their child to, Mel,¡± his mother said with a sad look. ¡°But I¡¯m not stupid. I know how much you¡¯ve always wanted to be a Delver even when you didn¡¯t know if you would be Gifted or not. And with everything that¡¯s happening now, it would be unreasonable of me to try and talk you out of it.¡±


    Melmarc nodded, releasing a breath he hadn¡¯t known he¡¯d been holding. What would he have done if his mother had said that she didn¡¯t want him joining the Delving games in his school? He had thought of joining anyway while keeping it a secret from his mother, but that was more of an Ark thing.


    Personally, he was the obedient child. He wouldn¡¯t have liked it, but he would¡¯ve obeyed. But he would¡¯ve still found his way to becoming a Delver after college. Unless some Delving company scouted him after high school.


    The thought made him wonder what his mother would do if he was scouted after high school. There were a lot of Delvers who were scouted straight from high school. Rumors of laws being proposed that would stop that from happening filled the internet. But with how much people needed Delvers, nobody believed that those laws would be passing any time soon.


    ¡°So, what school do you have in mind?¡± his mother asked.


    The answer to that was very simple. ¡°Fallen High.¡±


    ¡°Because?¡± his mother pressed.


    ¡°They are number one in the overall ranking,¡± he said. ¡°And they are the only school in the last two decades to ever be three-time defending champions. The Seat of Wisdom is close on their heels with back-to-back victories last year and last two years, but everybody believes the Black Bears have this year in the bag. With their final years graduating this season, Black Bear¡¯s second years have been showing a lot of promise. I think that if they lead their new squad properly, they just might have the chance to beat Seat of Wisdom¡¯s current line up.¡±


    His mother groaned. ¡°I always thought Ark was the violence enthusiast in the family. I never pegged you for a violence lover, too.¡±


    Melmarc shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re our father¡¯s sons.¡±


    His mother cocked a brow at him, then laughed.


    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s cute,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s get something straight, Mel. Your dad is the pacifist in the family. You and Ark get your love for violence from me.¡± She paused, as if realizing what she¡¯d just said and smacked a hand against her forehead. ¡°I just realized that I¡¯m a terrible mom.¡±


    Melmarc smiled. ¡°You manage.¡±


    ¡°I should find a way to punish you for saying that. You were supposed to say I¡¯m an amazing mother,¡± she joked. ¡°Anyway, let me let you go. You and Ark are supposed to go and get you a new phone. Once you¡¯ve updated it with all your files, you can send your applications to the school of your choice. Let me not hold you until its dark.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a slight headache, so Ark and I agreed to do that tomorrow,¡± Melmarc told her. ¡°The real reason I came was because Ark told me that you said we were going to Brooklyn.¡±


    ¡°We are.¡±


    ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°Before you go to school.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    The air grew suddenly heavy at his question and his mother¡¯s eyes grew very slightly cold. ¡°Because there are people that have questions to answer.¡±


    Melmarc¡¯s mind went straight to Detective Alfa.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°We also have to go get Naymond,¡± his mother added. ¡°You do remember that you and your dad left him in Brooklyn, right?¡±


    Melmarc wanted to say that he remembered, but it was something that was at the back of his mind. He knew it, but did not actively think about it. Like an uncle that wasn¡¯t really your favorite uncle. You were aware of him, but didn¡¯t really think about him.


    ¡°You are now that [Sage]¡¯s commanding officer,¡± his mother pointed out. ¡°So, he¡¯ll have to answer to you, and you¡¯ll have to be in charge of taking care of him. Once we get him, he¡¯ll update you on the quest he¡¯s currently on, you¡¯ll decide if he should continue on the quest as well. If you don¡¯t like the quest, you can terminate it and give him a new one.¡±


    That sounded like a lot of responsibilities.


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a lot of responsibility,¡± his mother said, probably reading his expression. ¡°But you have to start at some point. So we¡¯ll go get him, punish a few people that need punishing, then get the things you left there.¡±


    ¡°Please tell me I¡¯m not going to be in charge of the punishing,¡± he said.


    His mother shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m going to be a terrible mother for saying this, but do you want to be?¡±


    Melmarc shook his head. He didn¡¯t want to punish Alfa and whoever else deserved punishing. The only person he wanted to punish was Naymond¡¯s confidential informant, David Swan.


    ¡°There is someone I have in mind, though,¡± he said.


    His mother looked surprised. ¡°Really? There¡¯s someone you want to punish?¡±


    Melmarc nodded. ¡°A Confidential Informant.¡±


    ¡°They had you working with a Confidential Informant?¡± His mother looked baffled. ¡°What the hell were they thinking?¡±


    Something told Melmarc that he shouldn¡¯t tell her it was Naymond¡¯s idea for Naymond¡¯s safety.


    He remembered how Naymond had reacted to his father¡¯s presence and how he had known his mother. If his mother was the violent family member and not his father, he could only imagine what she would do to the [Sage].


    ¡°And why are we punishing this Confidential Informant, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡±


    Melmarc tried to play it off as nothing important with a nonchalant shrug as he gave his answer. ¡°Before I got stuck in the portal, he sold me out to some drug gang that was in charge of trafficking human organs. He gave them my class, too.¡±


    Once again, the air in the room seemed to grow stale. His mother¡¯s eyes darkened and he could feel her rage permeate the entire room.


    It sent shivers up his spine even though he knew that it had nothing to do with him. When she spoke again, her voice was cold steel.


    ¡°Tell me his name.¡±


    ¡°David Swan.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this one bit,¡± Navari grumbled. ¡°You¡¯re running.¡±


    ¡°Not running, just changing strategies.¡±


    Navari scoffed in derision. ¡°You¡¯re like a roach, trying to survive no matter how many times you¡¯re supposed to be dead.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s harsh, but I¡¯ll take it as a compliment.¡±


    ¡°Take it as a worship song for all I care,¡± Navari snapped even though he did his best to keep his anger from his voice. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. What matters is that while I¡¯d usually help you out, with the way things went, as you¡¯re very aware of, everyone¡¯s treating me like a diseased patient. No one will come within a foot of me. My contacts have all frozen me out, and I think the Romanians might be coming for me because of that fool they sent over.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s still missing, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°You know damn well that he¡¯s still missing!¡± Navari slammed his hand against the desk in front of him violently. The sound echoed through the small room and it took him a moment to calm himself. ¡°Him and that damned kid that you brought for the operation.¡± He ran a tired hand down his face. ¡°I swear to God, I should¡¯ve gotten out the moment the Romanians started showing interest. I¡¯m such a fool.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re no fool.¡±


    Navari nodded. He was a fool, but not that much of a fool. ¡°I¡¯m a fool for allowing you talk me into agreeing to work with them. But it doesn¡¯t matter. My contacts are frozen. I¡¯m useless. You¡¯ll need someone else to get you fake IDs and all that.¡±


    He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, already tired of having the conversation.


    ¡°Personally, I really hope we don¡¯t ever meet again, David.¡±


    David Swan looked at him and shook his head. He turned and left the small room Navari had been hiding in since he¡¯d learnt that the portal had closed and the entire operation had failed. It was now his small safe cocoon until his one contact that hadn¡¯t frozen him out got him a fake ID and a way out of the country.


    As far as he was concerned, he needed to be as far away from the country as possible when the Romanians came looking for the guy they¡¯d sent.


    As for David, that was a different case. Navari wasn¡¯t a very religious person. His parents had been Christians, but he¡¯d stopped going to church the moment he was in charge of his own life. Regardless, he found himself praying that David did not escape. He hoped the Romanians found him when they came.


    Judging from how terrified the man had looked before leaving, Navari was more than certain something bad was about to happen and the man knew it.


    A lot of people didn¡¯t know it about David, but the man was a roach, and the worst kind. He would sell his mother if it would get him what he wanted.


    ¡°Run, you little fucker,¡± Navari muttered, staring at the closed door in front of him. ¡°Run as long as you can until the Romanians get you.¡±


    His phone vibrated in his pocket, drawing his attention, and he pulled it out. The caller ID was hidden but he picked up the call and placed the phone to his ear.


    He waited, knowing better than to speak first.


    ¡°Nav,¡± the voice came in from the other end.


    ¡°What do you have for me, Ten?¡±


    ¡°Bad news.¡±


    Panic rose in Navari¡¯s throat like bile. Had the Romanians arrived? Had they come for him? ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked.


    ¡°No idea,¡± Ten replied. ¡°But shit just hit the fan. There are rumors of my contacts getting hit. Every body¡¯s getting hit, actually.¡±


    ¡°What? Do we know why?¡±


    ¡°No idea.¡± Ten was whispering, as if he was hiding. ¡°I¡¯m just giving you a head¡¯s up. Everyone¡¯s going down.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s the Romanians?¡±


    ¡°Fuck the Romanians,¡± Ten swore. ¡°The Romanians I know don¡¯t have this kind of firepower to spare on assholes like us. We aren¡¯t that important.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean by firepower?¡±


    ¡°Dude, it all started an hour ago and they¡¯ve already hit eight safehouses I know. They¡¯ve taken down all my men. Spider¡¯s not picking my calls anymore so I¡¯m sure he¡¯s already a goner. Nobody¡­¡±


    His voice went silent as something loud erupted in the background. Then there was an explosion, followed by the sound of gunshots.


    ¡°Ten, what¡¯s happening?¡± Navari barked. ¡°Talk to me!¡±


    ¡°Fuck me!¡± Ten swore, amidst the sound of movement and gunshots. ¡°What the fuck did we do? Why the fuck would they send a [Mage] after us? Navari, fuck passports. You should run. In fact, turn yourself in to the police because that¡¯s what I¡¯m about to do. If I make it out of here alive.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s happening? What [Mage]?¡± Navari felt as if his bladder would give out on him. ¡°Ten.¡±


    ¡°No, don¡¯t do it. I swear I know nothing.¡± Ten¡¯s voice was loud in his ear, but Navari knew that the man was no longer addressing him. ¡°I just run an ID service. I swear, I don¡¯t know what you want but I¡¯ll give you anything. Everything.¡±


    A voice came through in response. ¡°I only want one thing?¡±


    ¡°Name it. I¡¯ll get it for you no matter what?¡± Navari had never heard Ten so panicked before.


    However, even though that was enough to terrify him, the woman¡¯s words made him bolt out of his chair and start running for the door.


    ¡°Where,¡± she said, ¡°is David Swan?¡±