《Blind Chaos - Tales Beneath the Dragoneye Moons》 Book 1 - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 The Paladin had failed. The thought dominated them and sapped their strength even further; their resolve was irrevocably shaken. They had lost¡ªnot the battle, or not just the battle¡ªand had reached the end of their path. They reeled, both in body and within their mind, shortly before their weapon was wrenched from their grasp. They reacted all too slowly, and a moment later a powerful blow to their back sent them into the ground. Dazzling pain blurred their consciousness when their head struck the unyielding ground. Grim resolve had them reach for their weapon, in spite of it all. But their precious partner was beyond their reach. The next blow pierced through their spine. Other savage attacks tore through their form, almost entirely unfelt. The wounds were fatal, and the effects of the mortal damage spread rapidly. Their consciousness dimmed and faded. The sensation reminded them of drowning, as they drifted further and further away from light and life. Yet they were still a Paladin. They fought desperately, deep within their own mind and soul. They screamed and cursed and called plaintively to their patron god, Xaoc. But even they knew it was all garbled nonsense. The final desperation that was borne of a failing mind and body. Truly there was only one coherent thought: Not like this! Not. Like. This! Not that the struggle against Black Crow ever truly mattered, not in the end. Their death was an inevitability. Their consciousness dimmed toward nothingness as they sank inexorably into the depths of the final darkness¡­ [*ding!* Congratulations! You have survived your early years, and the system is now fully unlocked for you!] [*ding!* Congratulations! You have earned your first class ¨C Child of Pallos ¨C Water] [Child of Pallos] ¨C A starter class for a girl from Pallos. +2 free stat points per level. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Child of Pallos] has reached level 2! +2 free stat points from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Dexterity from your element.] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Child of Pallos] has reached level 3! +2 free stat points from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Dexterity from your element.] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Child of Pallos] has reached level 4! +2 free stat points from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Dexterity from your element.] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Child of Pallos] has reached level 5! +2 free stat points from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Dexterity from your element.] [*ding!* You have learned [Identify] ¨C level 1!] [*ding!* [Identify] has reached level 2!] [*ding!* [Identify] has reached level 3!] [*ding!* [Identify] has reached level 4!] [*ding!* [Identify] has reached level 5!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Combat]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Prayer]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Meditate]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Tolerate Hunger]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Walking]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Running]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Knives]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Throwing]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Stealing Snacks]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Jumping]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Drawing]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Gossiping]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Carrying]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Laundry]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Food Preparation & Preservation]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Sweeping]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Scrubbing]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Tidying]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Pain Tolerance]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Sewing]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Anatomy]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Warm Hugs]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Panicking]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Dodging]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Roughhousing]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Defending]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Skilled Fingers]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Manners]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Vigilant]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Calm]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Boosted Reflexes]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Plague Survival]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Fast Learner]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Cute]!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Chatting]!] ¡­What on Pallos? From her perspective, she suddenly erupted from the depths of darkness¡ªwhere barely a trickle of her being was left intact¡ªto suddenly being barraged by notifications from the System. Nonsensical notifications, even! There were voices around her, but it was all too much, and too sudden, to make sense of. How was she even alive? She had been so certain that she was beyond any [Healer] she knew. And why in Xaoc¡¯s glorious name was she seeing a child¡¯s System notifications?! Her body felt strangely weak and slow to respond, but through sheer tenacity she slowly forced her eyes open. The light burned, but stubbornly she refused to close them again. She needed to see. She needed answers! Her vision was frustratingly slow to clear while she tried to blink away the blurriness. There were four¡­ no, five people in front of her, one was much closer than the others. The surroundings were both familiar and alien to her. It was obviously some sort of temple, but it wasn¡¯t¡­ She groaned in discomfort. Something was wrong. It was as if something was familiar about her surroundings, but she was unable to recall what she had wanted to compare them to. Which was a weird sensation, one that creeped her out, so she chose not to linger on it. Instead, she focused on the five people. The nearest, and directly in her line of sight, was a very pretty young lady that would¡ªin another couple of years¡ªbe exactly her type. Something about the young lady¡¯s compassionate smile came off as vaguely angelic, which was a blasphemous thought that she silently apologized to her god for. ¡­Yet the other four that flanked her ruined the effect, somewhat. There were three varyingly dour-looking men that were each somewhat older than the young lady that caught her eye, then there was another woman¡ªnot unattractive in her own way, though a bit too old for her tastes¡ªthat practically radiated danger despite her affable expression. She was about to turn her attention back to the very pretty¡ªif tragically young¡ªwoman when realization dawned that she was unable to move. Some sort of gargantuan creature held her firmly within its clutches! She was strangely weak, but the creature must have been frightfully powerful to hold her with such absolute control. She tried to thrash, but the efforts seemed to leech what little strength she had regained almost immediately. Nor had the efforts even done her any good. ¡°Sweetie? My little Ranthia? Can you hear me?¡± The giant cooed while it moved a hand up to paw at her prisoner¡¯s face. ¡°W¡­what are you¡­?¡± She tried to demand of the giant, but her throat struggled to work. Her voice was raspy and hard to understand. She wasn¡¯t in pain, but something about her body felt as if it had been in the grasp of pain and languished for an age. But that was impossible, her wounds would have killed her within¡ªat the very most¡ªmere minutes, even with her vitality. ¡­Once again, that odd sense of discomfort assailed her. Was this some sort of purgatory that souls went through before they returned to Samsara? But why would Xaoc let her languish? Nothing about this felt right. The giant woman clutched her tightly while it wept joyfully. ¡­But no, that wasn¡¯t right, was it? Slowly she looked between the ¡®giant¡¯ and the others in the room and¡­ yeah, they were the same size. But if that was true¡­ Was¡­ was she somehow tiny?! [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Observing the Obvious]!] [Observing the Obvious]: You seem to struggle to notice things other people realize immediately. Take this skill and fix that. Increased ability to recognize obvious things that you can readily see per level. ¡­She could do without the System¡¯s sass on top of all of the other distractions! How on Pallos was she supposed to figure out anything with some crazy woman prodding and touching her relentlessly? She needed to focus, she needed to figure out¡ª ¡°Sweetie? Are you okay?¡± The woman that was clinging to her asked. ¡­Right, she had entirely spaced out, hadn¡¯t she? ¡°W-what¡¯s going on? Where¡­?¡± Her throat still tried to refuse to cooperate, but she powered through it with sheer force of will. ¡°We¡¯re at the temple sweetie, and this nice [Healer] just saved you. I thought I was going to lose you too¡­ I just couldn¡¯t have taken that! I¡¯m so glad you came back to me!¡± The woman that clutched her leaked warm, sticky tears that dribbled down into her hair. She forced down her revulsion and looked at the [Healer] in question. [Identify] tagged her just as the woman had said, level 156 based on the pinkish-red hue of the tag. The young woman was smiling warmly¡ªthough thoroughly tinged with weariness and a hint of¡­ impatience¡ªat them. ¡°And¡­ who might you be¡­?¡± The child asked her mother. The tears stopped immediately. The woman stared at her child with wet, glassy eyes before a desperate, fearful look was cast to the [Healer]. A look that was filled with pleading. A need to have things made right. The beautiful young healer approached and knelt down while the three men looked between one another with various expressions. She smiled reassuringly at the mother and child, before she started to move her hands in a few arcane ways around the girl. She turned the girl¡¯s head a few different ways. She pressed her fingertips gently against the girl¡¯s wrist and neck. She proceeded through several strange things¡ªand the girl enjoyed her attention and touch far more than that of the strange woman that continued to insist on being latched onto her¡ªbefore the [Healer] finally tried the thing that she should have, probably, started with: she spoke to the girl. ¡°What¡¯s the last thing you remember?¡± The child blinked owlishly at the lovely young woman. That¡­ proved to be a very good question for the being that found themself suddenly a young girl. She was a [Paladin], sworn to Xaoc. She had been in battle against a foe. ¡­Or was it foes? Gods, how was she unable to remember something so important that she had just experienced moments before? Was she in battle against man or beast? She had lost her trusty¡­ it was some sort of larger weapon; she was almost certain! But was it a great sword? A spear? Her weapon had been important, but she wasn¡¯t sure any longer about why it was important or in what context. ¡­And then she was slain. Yet when she tried to cast her thoughts back before that final battle, she found nothing. Her demise was both her earliest and latest memory. ¡­No, no that wasn¡¯t correct. Her awareness traveled straight from her death to her sudden emergence before the [Healer], but impossibly there were other memories sandwiched in between. Memory that was absent of awareness; memories that played back more akin to contextless knowledge than a proper memory. Yet the information was there. She had stood before Xaoc, her god. The lord of Chaos Himself. And He had firmly rejected her as an angel. Though she had lived her life devoted to him, she had proven too orderly in the end. ¡­No, he had phrased that differently, he had accused her of being allured by order and fallen under its¡ªno, her¡ªsway. ¡­Her god had measured her worth and found her wanting. The vague recollection made her tremble. Tears threatened to spill forth¡ªa battle of will that she lost almost as soon as it began¡ªwhile she reeled from the revelation. He determined that she needed to be tempered with true chaos anew before she could truly serve His needs. He gave her a second chance! She would be permitted to keep her knowledge of the System and perhaps a few other things. She was given two charges: live differently and add more chaos to the world. ¡­But the directive to live differently had a stinging consequence: she would never be a [Paladin] again. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. It hurt more than she could express. The path called out to her very soul, yet no matter how she redeemed herself she would never again be permitted to walk that path. She needed time to parse everything! Yet people waited for her answer. She forced herself back into her present. She was no longer the [Paladin], she was¡­ apparently a child. But she still loved Xaoc and wished to devote herself to him. ¡­That story was hers, it wasn¡¯t something she wanted to share with the [Healer]. She cast her mind for other memories, but there were none. There was no recollection at all of the little girl that she seemed to be. There was nothing else about the [Paladin] that she had been beyond those final moments. And that seemed to have exhausted the extent of her recollections of her encounter with Xaoc. ¡°I¡­ I just unlocked my System, but I don¡¯t remember anything else.¡± The child half-lied. She wished that she was permitted to wipe the tears from her face, but the ashen-faced woman that clung to her had her arms pinned. Through tear-blurred eyes, she watched the [Healer] while the young woman pursed her lips. The [Healer] checked a few things further on the child, before she subvocalized something to herself and looked up to the mother. ¡°She had been infected with both of the plagues, and both were in an advanced stage. It¡¯s¡­ possible that there was some existing brain damage. She¡¯s been healed, don¡¯t get me wrong! She¡¯s healthy and it¡¯s very possible that her memories will return! ¡­But you should probably talk to Caecilius, he should have more experience with this kind of thing.¡± The mother sneered, her earlier gratitude completely forgotten. She muttered something unintelligible, though obviously unkind, before she seized her daughter¡¯s arm¡ªrather roughly¡ªand tried to pull the girl along toward the exit from the room. The woman was in a clear rush to be away. The girl, on the other hand, had not lost her sense of gratitude¡­ unlike what seemed to be everything else about her. She analyzed her mother¡¯s grasp for a moment before she jerked her arm free using the weak point in the woman¡¯s grasp. The moment she was free she wiped her tears, turned back, and bowed formally to the lovely [Healer]. ¡°My thanks to you, lady [Healer]. I may not remember, but I recognize by your words and actions that you have saved me from the brink of another death. I, for one, am grateful. You are a credit to your class, and I will always carry the memory of what you have done for me¡­ along with the memory of your great beauty.¡± The child offered in a deeply formal tone of voice, tinged with blatant flirtation there at the end. ¡­That was¡­ not entirely what she had meant to say. She had definitely said far too much! In her defense, her head was still in a poor place, and she had rushed to say what she could before the wretched woman seized her again. The woman¡ªher mother, it seemed¡ªsnatched her arm again with a strange, haunted look on her face. She fixed a nasty glare at the momentarily speechless [Healer] before she practically dragged the girl out of the room. The woman hurried down the halls, mumbling nonsense about how she needed to get her real daughter back. How her little girl had never spoken or behaved like this before. How she needed a real professional to fix whatever the stupid girl had done. And other ingrateful, hateful things. ¡­It seemed that the former [Paladin] had definitely said too much. The pretty¡ªbut most certainly not angelic¡ª[Healer] had been a delight, but she was far less impressed with the man that they met with afterwards. The man was a [Healer] as well, one specialized in plagues. Admittedly he was nice enough, in his own way. He made a¡ªmildly obnoxious¡ªshowing of only requiring a few small iron coins to, effectively, tell the distraught mother exactly the same salient facts that the prior [Healer] had already conveyed. He was midway through his explanation of how the accumulation of something called black and yellow bile had forced prolonged reduction of her natural phlegm when she finally gave up on paying attention to him. In her opinion, the man had used far more words to convey far less useful information. Instead, she focused on her situation. Right, so, she was an 8-year-old, freshly unlocked girl. Her old self was lost and Xaoc Himself had commanded her to live a different life either way. Clearly, she had some knowledge; Xaoc had specifically noted that she would keep what she knew about the System. That was as good a place as any to start. The System was a fact of life on their world¡ªPallos¡ªand pretty much every major lifeform except small insects and some plants had use of it. Humans were locked out of most functions of the System until they turned eight years of age, likely as a safety measure established by the five great gods. This meant that she had the potential to shape her own destiny anew. For all intents and purposes, she was a blank canvas. There were more paths than she could count. Even at the broadest level, there were [Warriors], [Mages], [Healers], [Rangers], [Paladins], [Priests], [Artisans], [Laborers], and more. Each path had its own branching specializations as well, even before the elements were considered. She was a level 5 Water aspected [Child of Pallos] currently, in the fresh unlock class. She knew that at level 8 she would unlock her first class up, but she needed to figure out her path before then. The question was¡­ what was she? Or, rather, what drove her? She was shaken from her introspection by her apparent mother¡¯s sudden burst of gratitude to the long-winded man. Though she had paid precious little attention to the man¡¯s ramblings, she was certain that he hadn¡¯t provided any useful information beyond what the useful [Healer] had provided. And yet this, somehow, proved to be reassuring to the mother and earned her gratitude where the female [Healer] had only earned her scorn. The woman was visibly relaxed while she thanked him profusely for all that he did (literally nothing!). At least the woman seemed to finally accept things as they were. It was, apparently, late evening by the time they emerged from the temple where the [Healers] worked. The civilization that surrounded the temple was bleak. Everything had a gray pallor cast over it. Coughs and misery seemed to seep from every building. The air itself was foul, touched by the stink of festering and ash. The woman, apparently clueless, sighed happily and breathed deeply as if the air was actually fresh. ¡°Well, that was all quite a bother. ¡­So, tell me, my little Ranthia, how are you feeling now?¡± The woman asked with a smile. The girl stared at the woman for a moment, stunned. She had been awed by just how bleak the situation with the terrible plagues truly was¡­ The incongruity of her mother¡¯s actions, especially compared to the woman¡¯s earlier attitude, was jarring. ¡°I¡­ I think I¡¯m feeling okay. ¡­Mostly hungry.¡± The girl finally answered. ¡°¡­Of course, back to your normal greedy ways already. I suppose I should be relieved. Now listen here, young lady: I just had to pay that nice man the money I had planned to use for food. All to fix that stupid girl¡¯s mistakes. You were very expensive today, so you should be grateful and not ask for more right now. I know you have some snacks squirreled away in your cot; you can eat those when we get home.¡± The woman huffed. The girl felt that her mother¡¯s words were a terrible thing to say to a child. To make a child feel guilty for survival due to the inconvenience or cost it had for their parent? It wasn¡¯t even true! The cost was exclusively due to the woman¡¯s own lack of faith. The other healer, whatever his name had been, hadn¡¯t even touched her! ¡°Fixing the [Healer]¡¯s mistake she says¡­¡± The child muttered, not quite as quietly as she had intended. Her mother cuffed her roughly upside the head. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare get sassy with me, little Ranthia!¡± The woman snapped before she angrily strode forward, down a street stained with filth. The child sighed and followed. A short while later her mother slowed and the two walked side-by-side in silence, until finally the need for answers overrode the girl¡¯s self-preservation instincts. ¡°¡­So, my name is Ranthia?¡± She asked in a quiet voice. With every effort she made, her voice came to her more and more readily. Her mother stopped and gave her a look. ¡°¡­Yes. Your father, may the gods bless his noble soul, didn¡¯t want to name you after himself. He decided to name you after my favorite flower, he was such a romantic! I mean I loved both the flowers he gave me when we were married, but in the end we decided to name you after amaranths.¡± The woman finally answered, with a broad¡ªand frankly wildly unsuited to her¡ªsilly smile. ¡°¡­What was the other?¡± The girl asked hesitantly. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You said there was another flower you considered. I just wanted to know what it was.¡± ¡°Crocus, of course.¡± ¡­The child shuddered. Crocus was a terrible flower to try to derive a name from. What would you even make? Crocia? Croa? Rocuse? There was nothing even remotely acceptable there! How had that even been under consideration?! ¡°Your full name is, of course, Amaranthia.¡± The woman continued, ignorant to her daughter¡¯s mental plight. Ranthia decided then and there to adopt her shortened name. It was charming and cute. The full name wasn¡¯t¡­ terrible¡ªunlike any possible variation of Crocus¡ªbut she didn¡¯t feel any fondness for it either. She was Ranthia. Suddenly she smiled, just a little. She had finally learned something about herself, something that wasn¡¯t based on conjecture! It was a nice feeling, though it was one that she fretted that she might seldom experience. And her mother had resumed walking while she was lost in her own thoughts. She cursed¡ªinwardly¡ªand scrambled after the woman. She really needed to stop zoning out so completely¡ªshe knew better. Probably. ¡°Um, so¡­ what happened to my father?¡± Ranthia asked after she caught up. ¡°Why in the name of the good gods and goddesses above are you asking these questions?¡± Her mother snapped in response. ¡°I thought maybe if I learned about my life, it would help me remember sooner.¡± Ranthia lied after a moment. ¡°¡­Ugh, fine. Your father was a hero, you know. It was shortly after you fell ill. He announced that he was going to find a way to get past the 3rd and get away. To find help. ¡­Except those 3rd bastards caught him. They murdered him for no reason!¡± Her mother snarled with raw, emotional fury. Ranthia knew she¡¯d regret it, but she still asked. ¡°The 3rd?¡± Her mother glared back at her, before she gestured generally into the distance. Which meant she gestured at the wall of whatever building they were next to. ¡­Wait, when had they turned off the filth-covered street into that stinking alley? Ranthia was really starting to worry about her situational awareness. ¡°The 3rd Legion. The sons of whores that have barricaded our town and murder everyone that tries to spread word about what they¡¯re doing to us innocents.¡± The woman answered venomously. So, in other words, they were a military unit that was tasked with containing the plague. That bit of nuance allowed Ranthia to understand what her father really did, in context. He was trapped in a city beset with plague. Sickness entered his home. And the man immediately decided to abandon his family and seek to save his own skin. What an absolute bastard. Ranthia seethed quietly at the non-memory of the man while she followed her mother through increasingly low-quality areas until they, at last, arrived at the pitiful accommodations that were apparently her home. It was a small, single room domicile. The windowless walls were thin, and gaps existed between the boards. The house seemed vaguely crooked, though Ranthia struggled to quantify which direction it leaned. Inside, there was a small wood fire stove near the only door¡ªwhich seemed like a great way to die in a fire, with your only exit cut off¡ªwith a tattered table in one corner near some cabinets. The back wall of the home was occupied by a small cot on the left¡ªRanthia¡¯s bed, she supposed¡ªand a larger bed on the right. Ranthia tried very hard not to think about the implications of the unobstructed view her cot had of her parents¡¯ bed. She didn¡¯t think she was a prude, but the thought filled her with a surprisingly vitriolic level of disgust. It was almost primal. There was probably something to unpack there, but she had no way to dig out what it was, it seemed. Her cot stank from the moment she entered the house. Ranthia, warily, approached it and found the rough, threadbare cloth was absolutely coated in stale sweat, blood, and worse. Together it formed a thick crust of filth over the majority of the bedcoverings. Gods and Goddesses, how long had her body been sick? ¡°Can we wash this?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°What¡¯s the number one rule of this house, missy?¡± Her mother haughtily replied. ¡°I literally have no idea.¡± Ranthia deadpanned in response. Ranthia scrambled to dodge the wooden spoon her mother slung at her. She proved to be less than successful and rubbed her sore shoulder while she glared at her mother. ¡°The number one rule of this house is whoever makes a mess cleans it up! So, stop sassing me! There¡¯s still some water in the barrel in the corner, you can use your bucket.¡± The older woman huffed indignantly. Ranthia grumbled unkind words in her head while she prepped what she needed. She wasn¡¯t entirely certain how to clean the bedding, but water in a bucket¡ªeven if the bucket had a slightly sour smell¡ªseemed a good first step. A bit of water helped to soften the filth, and she was able to pry some of the larger chunks off with her fingernails. At some point, her mother delivered some supplies and gave her some advice, before the woman left Ranthia with some threats to remain indoors before she left for some nonspecific errand. Ranthia was fine with that, the repetitive activity provided her with precious time to think. She needed to figure out her path before her mother tried to force one upon her. What class path spoke to her? She needed to figure out who she was or, rather, who she wanted to become. Ultimately her lack of memory of either life left some dangerous questions unanswered. In all honesty, Ranthia was still uncertain if she was repeating the same life¡ªif she had always been Ranthia¡ªor if Xaoc had shoved her soul into the body of a dead girl. Those were the only two possibilities that she considered plausible. She outright refused to entertain the notion that Xaoc could have erased the soul of some poor girl and shoved her into the body in the girl¡¯s place. It was too out of character. The other gods might have been so wasteful, but Xaoc was different. After all, anything that was erased or killed could never add chaos into the world. That was why Ranthia loved Xaoc so deeply. Sacrifices were to be loosed into the world, rather than slain. A handful of coins could be donated to the local temple, but He was just as pleased if someone promised the coins to chaos and flung them into a crowded marketplace. He was a deity that defied the brutal norms that other gods favored. Ranthia had either always been Ranthia, or the girl had died before she became Ranthia. Those were the only two possibilities. Realistically, she knew she probably could pray to Xaoc and receive an answer about which option was the truth, but¡­ That wasn¡¯t her, it seemed. Had Xaoc believed that she needed to know, He would have told her. In the end, it was irrelevant, it didn¡¯t matter which possibility was the truth. She needed to live differently, that was the only truth that mattered. Ranthia set aside the question and considered her options. The skills she had been offered¡ªwhich she still had a bit more time to accept before the System rescinded them later that night¡ªwere the foundation she had to work from. There were options from her General Skills alone. She had solid options for a [Warrior]¡¯s foundational skills: [Combat], [Dodging], [Defending], [Vigilant], and [Boosted Reflexes]. Most of those she assumed to be holdovers from the knowledge she possessed from her previous life, which made getting them offered again once they expired somewhat difficult. For a [Mage] though, [Meditate] was there, which was absolutely essential to get [Mage] class offerings, and the defensive skills would still apply. She also had civilian life options such as a variety of housewife skills¡ªnot that she was interested, even if [Laundry] was vaguely tempting at the moment¡ªor¡­ Well, she always could take [Skilled Fingers] and make a life in that direction. Part of her random knowledge that she retained from her previous life was extremely sexual. She knew that she preferred younger women¡ªwhich was disturbing given her current body, she immediately decided that she needed to overcome that preference¡ªand she knew exactly how to please them. The knowledge gave her an interest in attractive women¡ªlike that [Healer] that promised to be oh-so-tasty in a couple of years¡ªbut the attraction was wholly detached from physical desire thanks to her current physical form. She appreciated beauty and potential beauty like someone might appreciate art. It was a perfectly valid life and class path. ¡­But, no, the idea of eschewing combat capabilities entirely felt like a terrible idea. Combat was a fact of life. The wilds of Pallos¡ªwhatever corner of it she was in¡ªteemed with monsters, dinosaurs, and deadly threats. Cities protected themselves with walls and people lied and convinced themselves that they were safe inside. But sooner or later the illusion of peace was always shattered. When that happened, those who allowed themselves to become helpless died. Ranthia refused to follow such a path. She might have to live differently, but that only meant that she was prevented from becoming a [Paladin] again; it didn¡¯t require her to become helpless. She needed a path that would allow her to face life¡¯s many dangers. The dead couldn¡¯t add chaos to the world. Her body was weak, but time and effort were the solution there. She was confident that the body was adequate enough to build strength, stamina, and speed up. She just needed to find opportunities. She doubted¡ªgiven her mother¡¯s threats if she tried to leave¡ªthat she would be allowed to just go out on a walk, and she strongly suspected that exercising in front of the woman was a terrible idea. And she had eight skill slots to¡ª Wait, no, seven. Why on Pallos was [Identify] already taken? It was a good skill to have and likely would have made the cut when she was selecting skills, but no skill should have automatically been taken when she unlocked her System. Puzzled, Ranthia finally consulted her System generated sheet.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 8]
[Mana: 20/20]
[Mana Regen Rate: 192/day]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 15]
[Strength: 2]
[Dexterity: 10]
[Vitality: 3]
[Speed: 4]
[Mana: 2]
[Mana Regeneration: 2]
[Magic Power: 2]
[Magic Control: 2]
[Class 1: [Child of Pallos ¨C Water (5)]]
[Class skills not available for initial Classes]
[Class 2: Locked]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 5]
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Her stats were even worse than she had feared, but Ranthia scarcely noticed. Instead, strangely nervous, she steeled her resolve and checked the information about her strange, solitary skill. [Identify]: You have examined the world closely in two lives now. You have gazed at warriors and horrors when most would not dare, and you have even performed the impossible and gazed upon the divine. This skill provides basic class and level information about the people and creatures of the world. Increased range per level. Note: This skill is burned into and bound onto you, removal is not recommended. ¡­ ¡­¡­ Ranthia had no words. She was consumed with a deep-seated loathing for her prior self. The Paladin had¡ªsomehow¡ªused [Identify] on Xaoc!? The fact that it was entirely impossible was irrelevant. The sheer damned gall of it just made her blood boil. What on Pallos had she¡ªor whatever gender the accursed fool had been¡ªbeen thinking?! It went beyond sacrilegious, it was irredeemable! HOW DARE! Ranthia was so enraged that she failed to even notice that she had scoured a hole through her patchwork bedding. She was almost frenzied with her fury. She wanted, no, needed, to punish herself for her association with the being that had committed such a heinous crime. The fact that she¡ªmercifully¡ªhad no recollection of it was irrelevant! Just¡­ damn that Paladin and damn her! Ranthia really had no good explanation when her mother opened the door and found her daughter flagellating herself with the wooden spoon over the sodden remnants of the even-more-ruined bedding. Book 1 - Chapter 2 - Seeking Direction Ranthia had no good explanation for what she was doing, so instead she spouted terrible excuses¡ªad nauseam¡ªuntil her mother finally just wearily gave up somewhere around the fourth bug (Ranthia was mostly certain that she had completely made up a ¡®giant toe biter bug¡¯). It was inelegant, as far as solutions went, but it was effective. Plus, the object of Ranthia¡¯s annoyance had already shifted from herself to her mother, so there was a touch of petty revenge involved. When the woman approached to investigate the state of the bedding, Ranthia recognized the scent of food on the woman¡¯s breath. The subtle aroma only served to make her stomach angrier than ever. She had, of course, investigated the promised cache of snacks when she retrieved the bedding, but it proved to just be comprised of a handful of nuts, a few dried strips of some sort of orange-yellow hued fruit, and something so covered in rot that Ranthia had no idea what it once was. None of which seemed wise to eat on a long, long empty stomach, not with 3 vitality. ¡°I really don¡¯t know what¡¯s gotten into you, but here. To celebrate your recovery, my sweet.¡± Her mother announced after she finally gave up on getting a cogent explanation. The woman then presented Ranthia with¡­ a crust of bread. Ranthia eyed it, wildly unimpressed. After a moment, she conceded to herself that it was a decent size¡ªat least for her own stature¡ªand that even a crust of bread was likely gentler on her heavily abused stomach. Gingerly, she accepted the crust, careful with how she handled it since she was unwilling to risk a single crumb breaking off. She needed everything she could get! Ranthia was surprised and a pleased sound escaped her throat when she bit into the morsel and discovered that the opposite side of the crust hid a thin layer of still-warm goat cheese. The savory flavor with notes of sour goodness stimulated her appetite like nothing else and it took a Herculixian level of willpower to force herself to take her time and eat the small amount of food carefully. Her stomach was so deprived of food that it felt practically collapsed in on itself. If she tried to inhale the tasty morsel like she wanted there was a real risk that she wouldn¡¯t be able to keep it down. Her tummy had to be coaxed back into service. It took some doing and a few crocodile tears with claims of being afraid to sleep, but Ranthia finally convinced her mother to let her stay awake late while she tried to ¡®fix¡¯ her bedding. Ranthia hummed while she kept her hands busy doing very little of any practical benefit while she instead prayed to Xaoc inside her own head. [Prayer] was a skill¡ªone she had been offered¡ªbut she knew it wasn¡¯t truly necessary. Anyone could pray any time, even without an altar. Quite simply, they just needed to open themselves up to their deity and send their thoughts. Most people tended to offer the deity they prayed to a parcel of mana as well, though Ranthia preferred to just provide direct access to her own mana stores¡ªsuch as they were¡ªsince she trusted Xaoc to take what He needed. It felt more honest too; to her, offering a specified parcel of mana seemed far too transactional. That wasn¡¯t worship; true piety couldn¡¯t be treated like a business relationship! Hey Xaoc. So¡­ I¡¯m back, I guess. I¡¯m so sorry that I disappointed you; I promise you that I¡¯ll do better this time. Just watch, I¡¯ll bring chaos into the world, and I¡¯ll make you proud, just as I should have done before. Thank you so much for the opportunity though; it means more to me than I can convey. I don¡¯t know yet what my path will be, but I¡¯ll find it. I¡¯ll always serve you. Ranthia sensed her god¡¯s affection and acceptance, and she clung desperately to the warmth that it brought her. Acceptance. Xaoc was still willing to hear and acknowledge her. She had been worried but, apparently, she needn¡¯t have fretted. He was willing to forgive her. Ranthia just tried to hide her joyously relieved tears from her mother¡¯s gaze while she prayed¡ªand ambled through her stream of consciousness¡ªdeep into the night. Mana was taken, but it slowly regenerated, and Xaoc could make better use of even her paltry offerings than she could at the moment. At long last Ranthia was confident that her mother was wholly asleep and unlikely to rouse. Carefully, Ranthia extricated herself from the chair near the stove and crept slowly to the door. This was a risk, in more ways than one. To name a few: Her mother would, likely, be beyond incensed if she knew that Ranthia snuck out. There was still a plague¡ªor two, it seemed¡ªabout and Ranthia might not be so lucky to survive a second infection. Crises also tended to bring out the worst in people. Then there was the very real risk that she¡¯d put too much weight onto the wrong floorboard and fail to even get outside; the house was accursedly creaky. Shockingly, she succeeded. The eight-year-old managed to unbar the door, crack it open, and slipped outside without waking the snoring woman. At last, it was time to gather information! She had a lot of questions about the world, after all. Ranthia allowed her far-too-dim senses to direct her as she carefully navigated through the dark streets and alleys. Though there was likely a curfew in place, there were still pockets of people scattered about. Ranthia crept through the streets and listened for a while near each group, if she found a hiding place within range, before she moved away. It was a stealth mission, with a child¡¯s dexterity and no stealth-related skills. But it was also a small town, so it wasn¡¯t like she required perfection. Not that the System had deigned to offer her a stealth skill, unless she intended to steal snacks. ¡­Which was tempting, but no. First there were three men that angrily whispered about the fae causing the plague and how they needed to be ¡°gotten rid of.¡± Of all the foolish¡­ Ranthia tried desperately to not pay attention to their machinations to murder something so incredibly dangerous and hurried onward. Then there was another group¡ªtwo old ladies that gossiped by the door to a home¡ªthat also blamed the fae, though they wanted to find a way to appease them. Ranthia wasn¡¯t certain that leaving bowls of milk on windows would appease much more than local cats and other city-dwelling wildlife, but at least their hearts were in a less absurd¡ªand dangerous¡ªplace than the men. Though she was still baffled at why people blamed the fae. From what she knew¡ªthank you god-touched former knowledge¡ªfae were powerful, fickle, and dangerous beings¡­ but they weren¡¯t from Pallos¡ªwhich raised numerous questions about how she knew of them¡ªwhich meant they almost certainly had nothing to do with either plague. Disease was a fact of life in Pallos, not everything had some great origin. Ranthia found an abandoned and boarded-up tall shop that looked easy to climb and swiftly discovered that it only looked easy to climb. In the dark, with negligible strength and vitality? There was only so much her dexterity¡ªwhich thrived only because of her Water element¡ªcould do to offset just how feeble she was. She gave up halfway up its second floor, but it still allowed her to just barely see over the city wall in the distance. Ranthia knew what a military was, though the word ¡®Legion¡¯ had been unfamiliar. But she was still impressed with what she saw of the 3rd Legion. The soldiers had a tidy encampment set up beyond the walls and kept firm patrols in place, even at night. Fires and [Mage] created lights illuminated things sufficiently to make it all but impossible for anyone to sneak past. They were well trained and seemed to be well equipped. ¡­But the sight of the military that ¡®protected¡¯ their town only made her heart hammer in fear. It was impossible to miss that there were masses of torches, containers of pitch or oil, and arrows prepared already. The makeshift wall that encircled all of Perinthus. The 3rd Legion clearly wasn¡¯t there to protect the city and prevent the spread of the plagues. They were there to burn the town to the ground and erase its population if the plagues proved unmanageable. Ranthia was numb to the world while she climbed down. She tried to rationalize it. She told herself that Xaoc wouldn¡¯t have put her in the city if her fate was sealed. She also considered countermeasures that might enable her to survive. A Fire or Inferno aspected [Warrior] or [Mage] class might endure the flames, but escaping their notice required a Dark or Mirage aspected [Ranger] or [Mage]. Yet she also knew that no god¡ªnot even Xaoc¡ªwas absolute and all-knowing. She also knew that it was literally impossible for her to possibly reach level 64 and unlock her second class¡ªlet alone an advanced element¡ªwhile she was trapped inside a city. Not unless she intended to live a very brief life as a serial killer. She wasn¡¯t a murderer though. Or, at least, she hoped she hadn¡¯t been and was relieved that she really didn¡¯t want to become one. Ranthia shook her head¡ªshe hadn¡¯t even realized that she had reached the ground and had started wandering¡ªand tried to center herself. She went over what she actually knew. The 3rd Legion hadn¡¯t put the city to the torch yet, so the situation wasn¡¯t yet untenable. The city guard was still present¡ªshe was close enough to hear a group of guards that hunted for a mugger that had murdered some woman¡ªand while she hadn¡¯t gotten a good look at it, she was reasonably certain that the fine armor that the nice [Healer] and her bodyguard had worn¡ªalong with the quiet tattooed man that had given her mother nonverbal directions to the other [Healer]¡ªwas similar to the armor that the Legion wore. If that was true, it likely meant that the powers that be were still trying to resolve the plague. Okay, Ranthia was the first to admit that there was more than a little conjecture involved there, but the assumptions weren¡¯t too outlandish. And the conclusion that she reached helped a lot. She wasn¡¯t about to die again, she assured herself. Knowledge was a precious thing. With adequate information and wisdom, your options flourished. Knowledge was first and foremost among any assets one possessed. Ranthia had gained quite a bit of it. One of the plagues was believed to be spread by eye contact, so Ranthia learned to never meet the eyes of another until the plagues were dealt with. The group that the pretty [Healer] was a part of was called the Rangers, and sure enough they were elites that even the town guard deferred to. Also, they were extremely high level compared to anyone else in town and were accursedly alert; a man in the Ranger armor had discovered her and she had only escaped because she happened to be near an open drainage grate, and he plainly hadn¡¯t thought to check such a small and smelly place. Even better, Ranthia had found an asset that was nearly as precious as knowledge. Inside the drainage trench she discovered a knife, and thankfully she discovered it without injury to boot. The wooden handle had partially rotted off and the knife was kissed with rust, but it still held an edge. Ranthia had acquired a way to protect herself. While Ranthia waited out the Ranger¡¯s vigilance, she reviewed the skills that she had been offered¡ªwhich fortunately hadn¡¯t yet expired¡ªand selected several. [Combat]: You have experience and expertise in battle, including with arms and armor. Increased combat capabilities. -7 Mana Regen Rate while engaged in combat. A solid foundation for melee combat that promised to be useful whether she was a [Warrior] or a [Mage]. [Knives]: You have a reasonable appreciation and respect for knives. Put it to use. Increases ease of wielding and capabilities with knives. -5 Mana Regen Rate while wielding a knife. Her only weapon was a knife¡ªunless she was stupid enough to try to punch or kick something with two strength¡ªso that was an easy choice. The skill synergized with [Combat] too. [Dodging]: With quick reflexes you may avoid harm. Increases the ability to dodge future threats. -5 Mana Regen Rate while dodging. Her vitality promised her a swift end if most attacks connected with her, so trusting her comparatively superior dexterity¡ªreinforced by skill¡ªwas the smart choice. [Boosted Reflexes]: Your reflexes and reactions have been carefully trained, now take them further. Increased reflexes and perception per level. -5 Mana Regen Rate. Hoping to dodge things only mattered if she actually noticed the danger, so she took the skill that promised to help her notice death before it reached her. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. [Fast Learner]: Life has taught you one important lesson ¨C If you fail to adapt, you die. Each level increases your experience by 1% for all other skills and classes and helps learn new skills faster. May you survive long enough this time around to make good use of what you learn. -5 Mana Regen Rate. Honestly, Ranthia had been tempted to take the skill all day. The skill was exactly right; adaptation was absolutely essential to survival. Plus, her own Chaos-granted knowledge was certain that skills that boosted experience gains were invaluable over time. [Meditate]: Get in touch with your inner self, feel the magic within and without, and commune with your god in an incredibly unchaotic fashion. Reduces distractibility while meditating. -1 Mana Regen Rate while meditating. If she decided to take the path of a [Mage], a meditation skill was an absolute requirement to even get the class offered. If not, it was easy enough to replace, but it just made sense to grab the skill while she could while she figured out what she wanted from her new life. [Cute]: You can become a very cute little girl. In time, perhaps, your cuteness may mature into a special kind of beauty, but for now you are cute and innocent. -3 Mana Regen Rate. Ranthia indulged herself for her final General Skill slot. A woman¡ªgirl, whatever¡ªneeded to be attractive. It was mostly vanity, Ranthia wanted to (eventually) be pleased with her own reflection, plus it would likely help her get away with the odd bit of chaos. Ultimately though, she just wanted the skill, even if it was arguably less useful for her continued survival. Ranthia smiled happily to herself while she reviewed her new skills, only to suddenly shudder. Something was wrong. She felt weak, like there was a weight pressing down on her chest. Had she become ill again already?! Was this what the plagues had felt like? She was on the cusp of panic when she checked her stat sheet and immediately noticed the actual problem. [Mana: 17/20] [Mana Regen Rate: -3] A negative mana regen rate was a bad problem. Each physical stat and her passive skills consumed a bit of it, but if you ran out of mana while your regeneration was in the negatives¡­ Well, she had a loose but unproven belief that it could be fatal, it seemed. Carefully, Ranthia set down the knife to get the mana regeneration deficit back from [Knives], before she eyed her free stat points. She hadn¡¯t wanted to allocate any until she decided on her path, but she needed to resolve her mana problems. She used ten of her precious free stat points, five each for her mana and mana regeneration stats. That promised to provide her with some breathing room.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 8]
[Mana: 70/70]
[Mana Regen Rate: 35] (while in combat, 52 otherwise)
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 5]
[Strength: 2]
[Dexterity: 10]
[Vitality: 3]
[Speed: 4]
[Mana: 7]
[Mana Regeneration: 7]
[Magic Power: 2]
[Magic Control: 2]
[Class 1: [Child of Pallos ¨C Water (5)]]
[Class skills not available for initial Classes]
[Class 2: Locked]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 5]
[Combat: 1]
[Knives: 1]
[Dodging: 1]
[Boosted Reflexes: 1]
[Fast Learner: 1]
[Meditate: 1]
[Cute: 1]
Earlier, while Ranthia was praying¡ªslash killing time¡ªshe had decided that having her mana regen rate display by day wasn¡¯t terrible useful. Dividing the day into eight chunks was better, but it still provided little meaningful feedback. Sixteen chunks were still a bit overlarge, but twenty-four seemed to be a nice¡ªif arbitrary¡ªdivision. A day divided into twenty-four slices meant that each slice comprised a useful frame of time: that of a slow meal or what her mind considered a light bit of exercise (which was probably overdoing it enough to kill her current body, which was a problem she really needed to work on). It meant that each point in mana regeneration increased her mana regen rate by 10, before it was decreased by one for each point in her physical stats and the costs of her passive skills came into play. With the mana regen rate crisis resolved, Ranthia retrieved her newfound knife of dubious origin and quality and¡ªonce she was confident that the Ranger had finally left the area¡ªshe hurriedly made her way home. She only got lost four times, but fortunately she found her way. ¡°I knew I shouldn¡¯t have allowed you to stay up late.¡± Her mother groused. ¡°¡®m fiiine.¡± Ranthia slurred while she shakily tried to carry a small clay jar of water back home. Sleep deprivation was far more brutal than she had expected. Ranthia had started to dream of her class options, she was so absorbed in deciding her life path. By day she considered the basic elements¡ªAir, Earth, Light, Dark, Wood, Metal, Fire, and Water¡ªand by night she dreamed big of the advanced elements. She was a Lightning and Arcanite [Mage] that blasted away all that opposed her, a Brilliance and Mantle [Warrior] that struck with a glowing weapon that could cut further than it seemed, a Sound and Mirage [Ranger] that was all but untouchable while she landed shots that no one saw coming, or perhaps a master of Water and Magic Metal that swept her opponents aside while any attacks that reached her were stopped cold. [Leader] classes had been easy to drop. She didn¡¯t really have any skills that promoted it and, more immediately relevant, her body was a [Cute] eight-year-old. She wasn¡¯t leading men anywhere, even if such classes had been remotely interesting to her. [Healer] had also been immediately uninteresting, though she forced herself to seriously consider it. Clearly the Rangers brought on young women that were [Healers]¡ªeven if there was quite a gulf between an 8-year-old and a young woman that was probably 14 or 15¡ªwhich was somewhat alluring. But she also had no medical skills and seriously doubted that she could easily learn them, especially not while plagues ran rampant. [Healers] had better things to do than to indulge curious children that had no money. Ultimately, she realized that she was really only focusing on [Healer] classes out of a sense of obligation. She wanted to repay that lovely [Healer] that she owed her life to, but paying it forward wasn¡¯t a path that suited her. Instead, she decided that someday she hoped to be able to thank the young woman properly. Perhaps with some good wine and food¡­ Ranthia indulged in the daydream of her wholly fictional date with the lovely [Healer]¡ªwhen both of them were older¡ªbefore she set it aside and returned to her actual analyses. If she ever wanted to make that silly fantasy come true, she needed to survive. She needed to be capable. She needed to figure out just who she wanted to become. Unlocking an advanced element required either a large number of levels and class ups¡ªwith prestigious accomplishments to help your classes evolve¡ªor required the merging of two complementary classes that each had an element that built the advanced element, like someone with Wind [Mage] and Metal [Mage] classes could work towards merging them into a Lightning [Mage] class. Merging classes had several significant advantages, so if Ranthia wanted to pursue an advanced element that was likely her best option. The problem was that even where there were useful advanced elements, the basic elements weren¡¯t always quite as useful. If she chose the path of a [Mage], really only Earth and Metal had any stopping power. Water and Fire could kill a man or beast, but it was a slow and painful process that gave them time to take her down with them. Wood and Dark needed quite a few levels to gain lethality. And Wind and Light were all but harmless¡ªminor distractions and inconveniences at any level¡ªuntil they were incorporated into advanced elements. [Warrior] classes were slightly better, since ultimately the deadly force was your own sword or spear¡ªor tattered, discarded knife¡ªrather than the element itself. But some elements were more useful for supporting skillsets than others. Exercising at home had gone over about as well as she had expected. Every time she made the attempt it only took a few moments for her mother to ask what she was doing, command her to stop, and assign chores since she was ¡°energetic.¡± On the rare occasions she was left alone while her mother went out, Ranthia snuck a bit of exercise in, though if she was too sweaty when her mother returned, she was scolded. Ranthia had decided against sneaking out again¡ªin part because her mother refused to allow her to stay up anymore¡ªwhich further limited her. The issue was compounded by the fact that her body was¡ªlikely¡ªchronically undernourished. Food was, at best, inconsistent in their home. Some days she received a single meagre meal, other days brought two. Ranthia never quite felt full though, and she wasn¡¯t convinced that the situation was just because of the plagues and the loss of the worthless man that had fathered her. It was impossible to miss the fact that her mother seemed to have an outside food source and claimed the larger portions when they shared meals. Poverty was awful, but Ranthia was already convinced that her mother made it worse. One to survive, one to kill. Ranthia woke up with a start while the thought echoed through her head. The motion jabbed her mother with her elbow¡ªRanthia¡¯s bedding had been unsalvageable, so they shared her bed¡ªwhich woke the woman. Ranthia hurriedly assured the woman that it had been a nightmare and, thankfully, the woman¡¯s bleary reprisal missed its mark and struck the bed before the woman started to snore. Ranthia was too distracted by her new idea to return to sleep. One class that was built around survival. One class that was designed for violence. It was perfect! ¡­She just needed to come up with exactly what the classes were, what elements they used, and how they carried out their focuses. Still, it helped to narrow her options. At some point, Ranthia had stopped seriously considering [Ranger] classes. She hadn¡¯t quite consciously decided to do so, but all of her attention had focused on [Mage] or [Warrior] builds. More recently she had really started to warm up to the idea of a spellblade, a [Mage] in one class and a [Warrior] in the second. People gained their first class when they unlocked the System¡ªthough effectively it was useless until its first class up at level 8¡ªand their second class unlocked when they reached level 64 in their first class. After that the third¡ªand final¡ªclass wasn¡¯t unlocked until you got either prior class to level 512. ¡­And, oddly, no one she had seen had come close. [Identify] had limited range, but even old people of advanced age tended to be around level 150¡ªroughly what the [Healer] that had saved her life had already achieved¡ªbut level growth slowed with every level acquired. Just because someone reached level 150 by age 15 didn¡¯t necessarily mean they were on track to reach level 512 in a reasonable timeframe. The levels and growth rates felt off to Ranthia in some way she couldn¡¯t quite explain to herself, but she wasn¡¯t going to pretend she was blind to reality. It was best to leave her third class out of her considerations. Realistically, it made sense to prioritize her survival class. Even without a class to support it, a well-placed blade was still deadly, where if she went for her power-focused class first she¡¯d have to develop habits that she¡¯d need to unlearn when she brought her survival class up. Things narrowed further. Ranthia had largely started to ignore that the plagues existed. At some point the order came down to boil water or drink beer¡ªand so they boiled water¡ªand there were various bursts of activity in town. But the city hadn¡¯t been set ablaze by the 3rd Legion and so Ranthia paid the situation little mind. When she wasn¡¯t focused on her classes, she was distracted with the exploration of her strange and inconsistent pool of knowledge. For example, she knew that bamboo shoots were edible, but she had no idea what bamboo was or what bamboo shoots looked like. She knew a variety of types of weapons and their forms, though she hadn¡¯t personally seen anything except knives, the clubs that the town guards carried, and the short swords that the Rangers possessed. The 3rd Legion had been far enough out that she wasn¡¯t sure if those were spears or staves or some sort of poles that she had barely seen, so those didn¡¯t count. It was really weird, sometimes. The knowledge was always just straightforward facts, without context. She knew of the existence of bandits that eschewed society and preyed upon travelers, but she had to imagine for herself what sorts of terrible factors would drive men into such a thing. She knew that when men and women had sex the woman might become pregnant, though she had zero knowledge of how men had sex. And along that train of thought, she discovered that she had an intense personal revulsion of the idea of sexual interaction involving men. She really, really hoped that was somehow a strange bit of ¡®knowledge¡¯ from her past life and not some sort of deep-seated trauma that had been inflicted on the little girl that had once owned her current body. They had left the house numerous times to fetch water from a nearby well, acquire food, and handle other errands over the past several days. But Ranthia was surprised when they emerged from their home to what felt like the entire town congregated into a few lines. Still, she shrugged it off and kept her eyes down while she held her mother¡¯s hand so they wouldn¡¯t be separated. She was close to a breakthrough in her strategizing, she was certain of it. It was ambitious. It promised to be a challenging build to develop, and the early years were certain to be rough. But everything she knew said it should be possible to accomplish. Ranthia smiled while they walked through a large gate of conjured black flame¡ªPyronox, an advanced element¡ªnot that she bothered to question why they did such a thing. She had found her path. She would never be killed again; her foes would find their blades unable to reach her. Above all else, Ranthia was certain of one thing. One thing that spoke to her above all else. The plagues had failed to kill her, Xaoc had erased her prior death, and she had no intention of falling to anyone or anything else. She was a survivor. Another piece of herself had been puzzled out, and the class she envisioned reflected it. Once she reached level 8¡ªand did everything that she could to prepare¡ªshe would class up to become a [Mage]. Obnoxiously, since she hadn¡¯t received the Wood, Metal, Light, or Dark element¡ªthe Water element provided only points in Dexterity, rather than any of the four magic stats¡ªRanthia knew that she wouldn¡¯t qualify for the requirements for the [Apprentice Mage] class, but just because¡ªas far as her knowledge told her¡ªit was the traditional starting class for mages, she knew it wasn¡¯t the sole option. The System provided innumerable paths toward your goals, so long as you earned them. And she was determined to become a Light aspected [Mage]. Book 1 - Chapter 3 - The First Class Up The next day, Ranthia awoke expecting more of the same. She was wrong. The weird event they had to stand in line for and walk through a big gate of Pyronox during was, apparently, a mass-heal event. Ranthia might have actually known that if she hadn¡¯t been so preoccupied with finally figuring out her path that she wanted to take with her classes in her new life. The plagues¡ªboth of them¡ªwere officially cured. And with the plagues over, life had almost immediately returned to normal for the city of Perinthus. ¡­Or, in Ranthia¡¯s case, everything that she had become familiar with was suddenly changed. The streets were filled with people day and night. The city market sprang back up practically overnight. Stalls sprouted where the recently cleaned streets had once been empty, laden with ripe mangos at what the hawkers insisted were bargain prices, cooked foods of all sorts, sundry household goods, and services of every stripe. Even the brothels were open again and, apparently, business was booming. Ranthia was briefly overwhelmed by the crowds, the noise, and just how sudden the change had been. It was yet another thing that she needed to adapt to, though in this case she knew that it was a good thing. It was just¡­ a lot. Though one bit of gossip that was on many tongues gave Ranthia some cheer. The word around town was that the Ranger¡¯s [Healer]¡ªaka that lovely young woman that saved Ranthia¡¯s life¡ªhad been the one to solve the plagues and identify the classer that was responsible. The Rangers had ended him, which enabled the mass-heal event that put an end to the executioner¡¯s sword at the neck of the city. The crowds were overwhelming, but at least Ranthia¡¯s mother loosened her grip with the plagues complete and the town returned to normalcy. She was allowed out on her own! Very possibly it was just because of her mother¡¯s ever-increasing frustration with her questions and behavioral changes, but Ranthia was still thrilled to be given some leeway. Ostensibly she was supposed to be playing with the other children, but she instead ignored and avoided them while she trained her frail body. She ran laps around gradually larger portions of the city, she lifted whatever random clutter she managed to get some privacy with, and she performed various repetitive motions that she suspected were good training. The nice thing about starting from nothing was that she got measurable results swiftly. Stats were increased by level gains in your class(es), the allocation of free stats, or¡ªin this case¡ªnatural growth. 3 strength was a joke, but she had earned that extra point in strength with her own sweat and blood (and yes, in hindsight, picking up a tattered and weather-worn broken crate was an obvious splinter risk, but she hadn¡¯t known that beforehand). ¡°What do you mean we¡¯re moving?¡± Ranthia had been halfway out the door before her mother¡¯s voice stopped her in her tracks. ¡°Oh sweetheart, I know you like your friends, but you¡¯ll make new friends!¡± Her mother promised her in that saccharine tone the dratted woman used when she tried to treat Ranthia like a child. ¡°No, I meant¡­ why are we moving? Where are we even going? Things like that!¡± Ranthia struggled to keep her tone respectful. She was often exasperated with the woman that gave birth to her body, but showing her frustration only resulted in physical abuse. It was hard to retaliate as an all-too-fragile child, and she¡¯d already learned that [Dodging] her mother¡¯s wrath only escalated things. ¡°Oh. Well. Several of us have been talking, and we¡¯re going to form a big convoy with other families that want out of Perinthus. The city might be on the mend, but the damage has been done. We can find and make better lives for ourselves elsewhere.¡± Her mother answered after she floundered for a bit. Somehow the woman continued to underestimate Ranthia, despite her best efforts to prove herself. Ranthia couldn¡¯t help but to notice that the woman hadn¡¯t answered where they planned to go, but she strongly suspected that her mother wasn¡¯t sure herself. Not that it really mattered, Ranthia barely knew anything about the world beyond Perinthus¡¯ walls. The nation they lived within was called the Remus Republic and it had a capital¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t Perinthus¡ªand that was where her pieced together knowledge ended. ¡°When?¡± Ranthia asked instead. ¡°In four days.¡± Ranthia just stared at the woman. Though she quickly averted her gaze when she noticed the scowl forming on her mother¡¯s face. That scowl promised pain, and she was still bruised from when she had¡ªfoolishly¡ªadmitted that she had already assigned her skills and refused to exchange them for the domestic ones that her mother had insisted upon. In hindsight, she really should have lied, the woman wouldn¡¯t have been able to discern a difference between a level 6 [Cleaning] skill and Ranthia¡¯s best unassisted efforts. Learn and adapt, it was all Ranthia could do. It was still frightfully short notice. How in Xaoc¡¯s glorious name were they going to be ready to move in such a short timeframe? A somewhat forgetful old lady that lived on the next street¡ªone not quite as dingy as their own¡ªwas acquainted with Ranthia¡¯s mother. The woman had sent them an offer to take anything they needed from her messy old storage cellar and Ranthia was all too eager to volunteer. It got her out of the house¡ªher mother¡¯s mood was downright sour while they packed their belongings¡ªand Ranthia was cautiously optimistic that there might be more equipment that she could use mixed in. It certainly couldn¡¯t hurt, Ranthia told herself. Getting access to the cellar took a frustrating amount of time and repetition, the old woman had completely forgotten her offer and, for some reason, completely failed to recognize Ranthia. Then there was the whole escapade over the efforts to relocate the key to the cellar, which was the key that Ranthia had pointed out almost immediately and got firmly told that wasn¡¯t it. Then of course the cellar door was so disused that the hinges needed some work. Of all the terrible things Ranthia felt when she finally descended into the basement, surprise was not one of them. The basement was damp and moldy. Ruined, rotted husks that were once baskets were scattered around, along with the barely recognizable remnants of some old cloth, and quite a few things so far past ruined that Ranthia wasn¡¯t able to recognize what they had once been. She scowled as she picked through the refuse to the shelves in the back, not that they seemed to be any better off. Cracked and ruined clay pots were scattered about on the bottom shelf. The next shelf had collapsed and was what had broken the clay pots. The next housed only a small cask that¡ªgiven the potent aroma¡ªhad once contained wine long ago, before its structure failed. Ranthia was forced to stand on her tiptoes to see something on the next shelf. It was something metal¡­ a pair of shears! Ranthia smiled to herself and reached for them, happy to have found something useful¡­ ¡­only to freeze in her tracks when she heard a squeaky screech. Ranthia yanked her hand away shortly before a pair of small teeth snapped down where her fingers had been¡ªthank you [Dodging]¡ªand hurriedly toggled [Identify]. [Rat] came back in a juuust slightly off-white that put its level around 18. Which wasn¡¯t much, but it was three times her own level. For a classless child¡ªskill-bearing classless, at least¡ªthe small rodent was deadly in the extreme. Ranthia tried to back away slowly while she slipped her hand behind herself to the small hidden bit of fabric she had crudely sewn into her tunic. The makeshift hidden holster for her precious knife. She had barely gripped the rag that served as the handle for the knife when the rodent decided to lunge for her. [*ding!* [Dodging] has reached level 5!] Ranthia hopped to the side and silenced System notifications while she brought her knife out. Her mind stilled and focused. The situation was unfair, but life never allowed one to choose their own circumstances. And there was no space for distraction while she focused on something that could kill her so easily. She had to count on [Boosted Reflexes] to¡ªhopefully, and that was admittedly putting a lot of hope on a level 3 skill¡ªwarn her if any other rats showed up. Her opponent was smaller, faster, and¡ªprobably¡ªstronger than she was. The rat leapt at her again. [Combat] told her to strike, but whatever instincts or knowledge¡ªor however it worked¡ªthat she maintained convinced her to ignore the level 2 skill, so she instead dodged once again. Her best option was to wait for an opportunity to inflict an ideal strike, a fatal blow. A wounded animal was even more dangerous, after all. Of course, Ranthia¡¯s next dodge resulted in her getting trapped in the corner. ¡°Damned low-level combat skills!¡± Ranthia hissed. Which was unfair, it was entirely her own fault that she forgot one of the many first rules of combat in the heat of the moment: never lose track of the terrain and your position. Situational awareness was key to survival. The rat charged. Ranthia lunged, a maneuver born out of desperation. It was dangerous, but when your back was (in this case, literally) against the wall, it was time to throw out sensibility! [*ding!* You have slain a [Rat] (Poison, level 18)!] It wasn¡¯t exactly an elegant end to the fight. Ranthia was on her knees, with her knife buried in the rodent¡¯s back, pierced through into the packed dirt of the ground beneath it. Had she missed or the rodent lived long enough to bite her, it probably would have killed her, especially since it had the advanced element Poison. Ranthia exhaled slowly and failed to repress the shudder that ran through her body. Mentally, she lambasted herself for getting so scared of a rat, even as she struggled to free her knife from the carcass. The blade had a new chip in it¡ªfar from the first¡ªbut was still reasonably intact. Ranthia wiped the knife off in the dirt, stood while she returned the knife to its hiding place, grabbed the shears, and ran out of the cellar. It was only after she returned home that she discovered that the stupid shears that she had almost died for were rusted to the point that they were permanently seized shut. The day had finally arrived. Ranthia and her mother carried the sum of their belongings¡ªwhich fit in few enough sacks that the duo managed to carry them¡ªwhile they turned the corner to the gathering place for the convoy that planned to abandon Perinthus while the city recovered from the plagues. And Ranthia immediately seized her mother¡¯s sleeve and hissed up at her. ¡°I thought you said this was going to be a big convoy with lots of people!¡± Ranthia¡¯s voice was urgent and distressed. Her mother scowled at her. ¡°And what do you think over ten people is? Don¡¯t you dare start being weird, not today! We have to travel with these people!¡± Her mother quietly snapped. ¡°It¡¯s not enough! Let¡¯s just wait for a different group or some merchants that we can travel with or something.¡± Ranthia argued. Ranthia saw the blow long before it came. [Boosted Reflexes] coupled with [Combat] had noticed her mother¡¯s arm tense up. The blow was so telegraphed that she could have easily dodged or countered it. But she still took it. A backhand strike delivered across her cheek with enough force that it promised to bruise. Ranthia glared at her mother unflinchingly, start to finish. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous.¡± Ranthia spat, once her mother was done. ¡°Shut up! Ever since I let that stupid girl mess with you, you haven¡¯t been right! Just stay good and stay quiet, Amaranthia!¡± Her mother¡¯s response was a bit too shrill. People looked, but the woman ignored them and strode toward the group. Ranthia cursed aloud and followed behind the foolishly stubborn woman. Ranthia and her mother¡ªthe last to arrive, which proved that forenoon meant something distinctly different to Ranthia¡¯s mother than any other being¡ªmade the group fifteen. Ranthia had briefly hoped a couple of guards that loitered nearby were escorting the group, but no, they were just¡­ loitering. At least it wasn¡¯t the guard that had caught her practicing with her knife the day before, he had probably figured out that she had lied about a large man with a tunic that was dyed bright red handing out knives to children near the docks. It was a stupid-on-its-face lie, but men that became guards or soldiers willingly often hunted for opportunities for glory, and that sort craved to be the one that stopped something like a conspiracy to arm children for nonspecific (and nonsensical) purposes. It was a lie that Ranthia spun to prevent the man from telling her mother about her precious method for self-preservation. She needed the knife until she found a way to class up without her mother knowing. ¡­Well, she still needed the knife after that too, but at least then she¡¯d have some limited additional capacity to protect herself. They were directed to add their belongings to one of two small non-covered wagons that were present. Wagons that were stacked haphazardly with the belongings of the group. While Ranthia and her mother untied the ropes that had lashed their bags to them and added the bags to the piles, Ranthia quietly assessed the group with [Identify]. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There was a man that seemed obligated to attach ¡°the baker¡± to his name every time he introduced himself¡ªan [Artisan] that was level 67 by color¡ªalong with his two sons, the eldest of which was only a level 23 [Artisan] while the younger had yet to unlock. The quiet one was a wispy teenage girl that looked like she had missed far too many meals¡ªworse than Ranthia¡ªthat was a level 30 [Laborer]. She had a toddler in her arms¡ªallegedly her sister¡ªand had lost her parents to the plagues. An obnoxious woman had cornered the quiet teen and was loudly bragging to her. The woman was, apparently, a former tavern wench who was convinced she was among the foremost beauties in Remus¡ªRanthia wasn¡¯t even sure she was convinced that the bland woman with too much makeup was the most beautiful member of their tiny group¡ªand planned to ¡®get¡¯ a rich husband. She was a level 54 [Laborer], which Ranthia suspected was barely decent even for someone who probably hadn¡¯t had her 24th birthday yet. A young teenage couple carefully kept a wagon between themselves and the obnoxious woman, they held hands and were¡ªfrom what Ranthia overheard¡ªprobably betrothed to one another. [Laborer] level 32 for the female¡ªand Ranthia suspected she was waiting to find a new job before she classed up¡ªwhile her fianc¨¦ was [Laborer] level 29. A visibly pregnant woman that looked sad and miserable was with three children, all of whom were younger than Ranthia. The woman looked older than Ranthia¡¯s mother but was only a level 39 [Laborer]¡ªwell behind Ranthia¡¯s mother¡¯s level 44 [Laborer]¡ªand seemed to just kind of tune out the world every chance she got. The highest leveled person, such as he was, had very clearly put himself in charge of the group. A level 79 [Laborer] who had a poorly maintained axe and clothing that was positively infested with pieces of leaves and wood. He barked orders at the group that were largely ignored while everyone struggled to get underway. Yet at long last, the group began to move and Ranthia was forced to hope for the best. They were too few¡ªand far too low level¡ªfor true safety. It seemed the men and women intended to trust their fates to the gods. Three days into the journey, Ranthia was convinced she would still see Perinthus if she climbed a tree. The pace was far worse than merely sedate. The wagons were pulled by stubborn donkeys instead of horses, but the real slowdown was the people. The baker and the teen couple each owned one of the wagons and they had decided for the group that the wagons were for everyone to put their belongings and luggage in, so no one got the ¡®unfair¡¯ advantage of riding in the wagons. Not even the smallest children were allowed to ride, and the entire group walked. The donkeys were led on foot, and the group moved¡ªglacially¡ªin a shapeless blob around the wagons. The group not only moved slowly, but they also stopped constantly for breaks and settled in nice and early on the side of the road to camp every evening. And yet, most of their number complained about the pace¡ªsomehow¡ªbeing too fast and hard! Ranthia¡¯s hopes for actual privacy during the journey were dashed, but she still made use of the breaks to duck out of immediate sight while she practiced with her knife. The physical labor, coupled with her training, helped her to slowly gain additional natural stat points, though Ranthia doubted with the pace that was set that she had any shot at natural points in speed. As with most things in life, everything went from perfectly mundane to shit with almost zero notice. One moment, the group ambled on as it had for days. The 6-year-old girl¡ªfrom the sad, widowed mother¡ªwas, as usual, making an effort to befriend Ranthia. Ranthia was ignoring the little chatterbox, just as always. The next, the teen boy¡ªfrom the young couple¡ªput his foot down and their weirdly peaceful journey changed irrevocably. Ranthia¡¯s eye¡ªprobably guided by [Boosted Reflexes]¡ªwas drawn forward when the boy seemed to trip. He had stepped on a snake that had blended in with the dust of the road while it sunned itself. The movement that caught Ranthia¡¯s attention was his reaction to the snakebite that he received in his leg. But the snake¡¯s malevolent vengeance wasn¡¯t done, it seemed. The thing coiled, then outright launched itself through the air. Out of malice, the venomous noperope had decided to go for the child that delusionally expected friendship with Ranthia. Ranthia had just enough warning to grab her knife and draw it from its hiding place. There was no time for [Identify], there was no time to try to turn and shove the child clear of the attack. All Ranthia could do was interpose her knife in the snake¡¯s trajectory and put her hopes in her level 8 [Combat] and [Knives] skills, as they coached an adjustment in the angle of her knife. The serpent¡¯s mouth was open, its fangs were bared and ready to plunge into young flesh. The knife perfectly slipped under the fangs and caught the snake between its jaws. [*ding!* You have slain a [Snake] (Poison, level 39)!] The snake bisected along the knife¡¯s edge halfway down its body before its momentum bled off. In the aftermath, Ranthia nearly dropped the knife while she reeled from the shock¡ªboth mental and physical¡ªof what had just happened. Level 39. The damned thing¡¯s fangs stopped just short of the little girl¡¯s throat. It had all happened so fast. And it was more luck than skill that Ranthia had even managed to interpose her knife so perfectly! With an opponent at that level, with that speed, Ranthia could have ended up dead oh-so-easily. If it had managed to dodge her blade or had higher vitality, there would have been nothing she could have done; she wasn¡¯t even confident her knife would have survived the impact had she not woven it beneath the snake¡¯s fangs. It was a simple snake that likely could have slain everyone in the caravan with ease, despite a few of the adults¡ªnone of which possessed a single combat class¡ªtechnically out leveling it. And it was, in many ways, one of the least of the hazards that potentially faced the group. Predatory beasts, monsters, dinosaurs, and worse were out there. Had things played out even slightly differently, Ranthia knew, without a doubt, that she would have died before she had even accomplished a single thing! The group came to a chaotic stop, with more than a few screams and a healthy amount of raw panic. Ranthia was so absorbed in her thoughts¡ªand okay, yes, more than a little shellshocked¡ªthat she hadn¡¯t even thought to stow her knife. Her mother saw it, and Ranthia saw the moment that the woman saw it. That was a problem for later though, since the group was focused on the teenage boy that had already collapsed and the dead snake. Or, at least, that¡¯s where everyone¡¯s focus went once people realized the danger was over. The group collapsed inward as everyone rushed toward either the collapsed boy or Ranthia. The 6-year-old¡ªthat Ranthia probably should have learned the name of¡ªbawled in her mother¡¯s arms. Sticky, gross gratitude was offered to Ranthia from the girl¡¯s younger sister while she leaked from her eyes and her nose and generally tried to get that disgusting mess everywhere that she could manage. Others in the group still panicked, just to be safe. The brave axe-wielding [Laborer] loudly promised the others that the snake must have been weak if a girl could kill it, even as the teenage boy¡¯s flesh discolored from the venom. Ranthia sorely doubted that anyone was reassured by such a ridiculous display of sexism. Sense finally prevailed and bags and belongings were shuffled around to make space in one of the wagons, and the teenager was loaded onto it by the adults. He would be fine with rest, the adults lied. Ranthia¡¯s mother was busy in a hopeless effort to distract the boy¡¯s betrothed, which created an opportunity. That had been too damned close, Ranthia needed to be at least a little more than she was. No one else took the danger they were in seriously. She refused to entrust her survival to incompetence! ¡°I need to rest.¡± Ranthia whispered to the nearby adults while she climbed into the wagon next to the teen boy. She moved before anyone thought to stop her. She was done with permission and playing the part of a child. Ranthia settled in as best she could¡ªno one had really intended space for two when they shifted luggage for the poisoned boy¡ªwhile she reviewed her status.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 8]
[Mana: 100/100]
[Mana Regen Rate: 63]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 0]
[Strength: 5]
[Dexterity: 13]
[Vitality: 5]
[Speed: 6]
[Mana: 10]
[Mana Regeneration: 10]
[Magic Power: 6]
[Magic Control: 6]
[Class 1: [Child of Pallos ¨C Water (8)] +]
[Class skills not available for initial classes]
[Class 2: Locked]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 8]
[Combat: 8]
[Knives: 8]
[Dodging: 7]
[Boosted Reflexes: 8]
[Fast Learner: 7]
[Meditate: 8]
[Cute: 5]
Ranthia would have preferred to wait until she got the rest of her skills up to level 8, but life wasn¡¯t conducive to waiting, it seemed. She needed power. There was a temptation¡ªa strong one¡ªto abandon her plans and take a [Warrior] class that provided her greater immediate capabilities¡­ but no. Ranthia refused to burn her future for a bit more safety in the moment. It was time to become a Light [Mage]. When she reached level 64, she would gain her second class and use it to become a Metal [Mage]. She could only rely on herself for her survival. So, it was time for her to take the first step to the Mirror [Mage] class she envisioned. Ranthia triggered her first class up of her life and fell into the world within. Every being on Pallos had their own world within, at least as far as Ranthia knew. Some said it was the shape of their soul, some claimed it was the mind¡¯s best efforts to grasp the shape of the System, and others likely had their own explanations. There was always a guide as well, a faux persona that assisted people with their class ups. For Ranthia, she just considered the place to be ¡®the world within¡¯ and it was strangely familiar, despite being unrecognizable. The instant she allowed herself to toggle the class up and entered the world within, Ranthia was immediately inside a relatively small room that connected to a narrow, long corridor where short swords were hung, racked, and stored. It was an armory, and she knew it as such, not that she had ever seen one before, at least not in this lifetime. The path further into the corridor was blocked by a counter and, behind that counter, stood an older version of Ranthia garbed in a vaguely military style of what seemed to be holy vestments of Xaoc. The older Ranthia, her guide, nodded to her younger self in greeting. The woman was of indeterminate age and Ranthia would have been hard pressed to describe her to anyone else. She just was¡­ Ranthia, as an adult. ¡°You have come.¡± The guide pronounced. The woman¡¯s stance was formal, and her tone of voice was mostly formal, though tinged with a hint of amusement. Ranthia nodded to the woman¡ªto herself, arguably¡ªbefore she allowed herself to be distracted briefly while she eyed the swords that waited beyond the counter. Each blade represented a class option, though many represented classes that were closed to her; classes she had either failed to meet the minimum requirements for or were too far removed from who she was. The mechanisms of how things worked was unsurprisingly intuitive, given this was her own world within herself. She instinctively knew that the color of the wrap on the grip denoted the class quality, while the stone¡ªcut with facets in the shape of the symbol of the five gods¡ªof the pommel indicated the element. Most wraps were grey¡ªthe color of a class she failed to meet the requirements for¡ªbut there were a variety of whites and reds in a myriad of shades, along with a few oranges and a single dull yellow. Then, in a place of honor¡ªyet sealed within a metal display case¡ªrested a solitary blade with its hilt wrapped in blue, the path of the [Paladin] she could never be again. It was to be respected and venerated, but not a blade she would ever be allowed to carry. Oddly, she was reassured to see it there, nonetheless. It was nice to know that she still had a sufficient connection with Xaoc to qualify for the class, even if she was forever unable to take it. Ranthia drew the wooden training sword that represented her current class and gently set it on the counter. Once that was done, she nodded to her guide and smiled with a confidence that she definitely didn¡¯t feel. This was it, she would either truly begin her journey down her chosen path of survival or hit a major stumbling block. In theory, she supposed that she should be able to recover, even if she had no good classes in the direction she planned this time around. But her planned class build was a slow path forward, even at best. In the worst case, there was a real risk that she might end up trapped as a dependent until the level 768 class up, which wasn¡¯t a valid option. If this class up and her next both went poorly, she¡¯d basically be forced to abandon her plans and seek out some alternative path. So, yes, she was more than a little nervous. ¡°You know our goal, give me the class that takes us furthest on that path.¡± Ranthia requested with a tone that almost, sort of, managed to hide just how dreadfully electrified her nerves felt. The guide bowed formally and swept up the wooden training sword. It was stashed in a basket with zero fanfare before the adult version of Ranthia journeyed back among the stored weaponry. The woman¡ªRanthia stole the opportunity to admire her future self, she wasn¡¯t half bad¡ªpaused often as she examined various swords visually. A rare few were lifted to be examined, before they were returned to their rack. The guide always kept a respectful distance from the blade with the blue-wrapped hilt, of course. It was a monument to what they could never be, nothing more. At length the guide returned with a blade with a hilt wrapped in pale red. She offered it hilt-first to her younger self with a confident nod. Ranthia reverently took the blade and silently absorbed its story. [Magissistant ¨C Light]. Your magic abilities are still limited, but you¡¯re still quite small. Fortunately for you, sometimes mages need someone that can assist them with their own work. Less than a proper apprentice, you¡¯ll never conjure your own light¡­ so seize what is around you. Shape your destiny. +2 Mana, +2 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control per level. It was more or less perfect. The class was weaker than a traditional [Apprentice Mage] class would be, though to be fair Ranthia fell short of the typical requirements for [Apprentice Mage] since she had failed to get all four of her magic stats to level 10. The loss of [Light Conjuration] was annoying, but as the class pointed out there was¡ªat least usually¡ªlight around that could be seized. Intuitively she knew that the class would have basically no offensive capability, but with some time and effort it promised to be an almost perfect first step toward her plans. Ranthia was flooded with relief. She gripped the blade tightly by its hilt, as if worried that some implausible and unprecedented issue would arise, and some force would try to take the blade from her. It was the most precious object she had ever held in her short new life, never mind the fact that it was just a representation of the potential within her and thus wasn¡¯t actually an object. ¡°I¡¯ll take it. Happily. ¡­I¡¯ve got to ask though, what¡¯s the yellow one back there?¡± Path assured, Ranthia allowed herself to spare a moment to indulge in curiosity. ¡°[Small Serpent Slayer ¨C Wood]. A warrior class specialized and wholly focused on killing small snakes. You would be able to punch up significantly above your level, but only against snakes.¡± Her guide replied automatically, with a hint of a smirk. That was¡­ pretty bad. Ultra narrow focuses typically had no future and, even with her limited and eclectic knowledge set, she somehow felt like killing every single snake in an area was harmful. It just wasn¡¯t a good class, which made it far easier to pass on the high stats it had to offer without regret. The moment Ranthia concluded her introspection about [Small Serpent Slayer], her guide spoke up. ¡°¡­I do have to ask, are you certain you want to continue the path you planned? A broader [Warrior] tagged class like one of the red ones focused around using knives in combat would give you a better chance to survive your current journey. There are also [Mage] classes that could actually deal damage.¡± Ranthia knew that her alternate self had only mentioned it because Ranthia¡¯s own heart was still a bit uncertain. Her path was risky, but¡­ Ranthia sighed and, with an effort of will, crushed her uncertainty mercilessly. ¡°There is no sense in crippling my plans and my future to gain an advantage in the short term.¡± Ranthia reminded herself aloud. ¡°May those words not grace our funeral pyre,¡± her guide replied. Ranthia was less than amused and glared at her guide. Yes, she was aware that this was her own inner self, but she could do without scathing commentary from herself! ¡°Until next time then.¡± Guide and true self nodded to one another. With that, Ranthia sheathed her new class and turned to leave the realm within. She was ready to face reality, with the first step on her true journey in hand. Book 1 - Chapter 4 - Awkward Repercussions Ranthia kept her eyes shut once she concluded her class up, and eagerly checked her System notifications. Reality could wait, she needed to see the capabilities of her new class! [*ding!* Congratulations! You have upgraded your first class ¨C [Magissistant ¨C Light]!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Magissistant] has reached level 9! +2 Mana, +2 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration from your Element.] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Magissistant] has reached level 10! +2 Mana, +2 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration from your Element.] ¡­And nope, Ranthia immediately decided that she wasn¡¯t doing that. It was a simple enough matter to tweak her System interface to combine like notifications. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Magissistant] has leveled from level 8 to level 16! Per level: +2 Mana, +2 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration from your element.] So much better. [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Light Affinity]!] [Light Affinity]: You have an affinity for Light. Put it to use. [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Light Manipulation]!] [Light Manipulation]: Seize light and reshape it. Increased control and efficiency per level. [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Light Resistance]!] [Light Resistance]: Resist Light-aspected attacks and, just maybe, you will manage to not permanently blind yourself. [*ding!* [Identify] has leveled from 8 to level 16!] [*ding!* For reaching level 16 you have unlocked a new Class Skill! [Meditate] evolved into [Spell Reworking]!] [Spell Reworking]: With focus, effort, and repetition anyone can modify or create a skill for their magic. But why wait? Enter a state of deep focus and hurry your progress along! -300 Mana Regen Rate while using this skill. ¡­And that was it. Ranthia felt oddly disappointed. She had single-handedly defeated two opponents far beyond her level, one ¡®merely¡¯ thrice her level and one that was like five times her level (okay, yes, neither had been a truly impressive showing on her part, but she won)! She had even met her god face-to-face and only [Identify] seemed to care (yes, the blasphemy still bothered her, but she was in a greedy mood and such concerns were¡ªbriefly¡ªset aside)! [*ding!* [Combat], [Knives], and [Boosted Reflexes] have reached level 9!] Had the system just simultaneously pitied and sassed her? Was there some sort of odd delay? Ranthia puzzled over it briefly before she shrugged it off. She got what she wanted¡ªsort of¡ªand she really didn¡¯t want to push her luck. No one quite knew just how intelligent and aware the System was, after all. Instead, Ranthia quietly thanked the System before she focused on the changes to her stats and her new skills.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 8]
[Mana: 260/260]
[Mana Regen Rate: 303]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 8]
[Strength: 5]
[Dexterity: 13]
[Vitality: 5]
[Speed: 6]
[Mana: 26]
[Mana Regeneration: 34]
[Magic Power: 13]
[Magic Control: 13]
[Class 1: [Magissistant ¨C Light (16)]]
[Light Affinity: 1]
[Light Manipulation: 1]
[Light Resistance: 1]
[Spell Reworking: 8]
-
-
-
-
[Class 2: Locked]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 16]
[Combat: 9]
[Knives: 9]
[Dodging: 7]
[Boosted Reflexes: 9]
[Fast Learner: 7]
-
[Cute: 5]
[Light Affinity], [Light Resistance], and [Light Manipulation] were obvious. The cornerstones of any [Mage] class, though usually there would have been a [Light Conjuration] to complete the set. An affinity for the element so you can use it efficiently. Resistance so that you¡¯re less affected by your own spells for that element, plus those used against you by others. Manipulation for modifying the ambient element or your own spells, and¡ªif you outpowered your opponent sufficiently¡ªagainst hostile spells of that element. Those were straightforward enough, but [Spell Reworking] was interesting. Honestly, once she put more thought into the skill, Ranthia was elated. One of her goals that she, ideally, wanted to complete before her level 32 class up was to establish a custom magic skill. Ordinarily that required strong effort with a [Conjuration] skill or a similar skill that you didn¡¯t mind breaking, but without a teacher who happened to have something along the lines of what she wanted, it promised to be a bit of an arduous task. [Spell Reworking] would give her a shortcut, which almost made up for the absence of [Light Conjuration]. ¡­The only problem was that she basically wouldn¡¯t regenerate mana while she used it. Meh, she¡¯d take it. In the end, it brought her another step closer to her goals! ¡­Probably! Ranthia allowed herself to smile happily before she opened her eyes¡­ to immediately behold the less-than-lovely sight of the dead, glassy eyes of the teenage boy that laid next to her. It was the first dead body that she had ever encountered¡ªat least as far as she remembered¡ªbut the sight really bothered her remarkably little. She felt no need to scream or freak out, like one might expect from a child that found a dead body. Not that she was a child, no matter how she appeared. It wasn¡¯t like Ranthia was filled with warm fuzzy feelings to discover that she was nearly cuddled up next to a corpse, but she wasn¡¯t freaked out either. Instead, she examined the poor boy¡¯s body quickly. She wasn¡¯t quite sure why, but based on his pallor she intuitively suspected that he had died shortly after she had started her class up; the sun had moved so she had been under for longer than she had thought. The discoloration introduced by the snake¡¯s venom had spread and worsened during the time that she was unconscious to the world, and dark lines covered much of his body while the flesh around where he had been bitten, on his ankle, was almost pitch black. A foul aroma wafted from the ankle, which only promised to get worse as the body cooled and stopped defending itself. While Ranthia wasn¡¯t freaked out, the loss of the kid¡ªthat was nearly twice her body¡¯s age¡ªstill squashed her excitement and enthusiasm more than a little. She sighed and whispered a quick prayer to Xaoc on the nameless teen¡¯s behalf¡ªshe really needed to work on her apparent inability to learn anyone¡¯s name¡ªso that her god might offer the kid some comfort before he was returned to the cycle. It was the least that she could do to acknowledge the poor soul. The proper thing to do would be to find the kid¡¯s¡ªagain, ignore the fact that he was roughly twice her age¡ªbetrothed and gently break the news to her. The girl deserved to know before anyone else, after all. ¡­Except Ranthia really wasn¡¯t up to dealing with someone else¡¯s emotional breakdown. She just wasn¡¯t really equipped for it, she told herself. Instead, she carefully slipped out of the wagon on the side opposite from the young woman. Dexterity was no longer Ranthia¡¯s best stat, but it wasn¡¯t like it had decreased. She was just as agile as she had been, even if she was a proper [Mage] now. Not that 13 dexterity was even remotely impressive. Still, despite a bit of inadvertent noise, no one seemed to notice that she got up. Not that their group, aside from Ranthia herself, ever paid close attention to anything while they traveled. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Once she was out of the wagon, Ranthia proceeded to shamelessly outsource the undesirable task. Ranthia considered the ¡®adults¡¯ in the vicinity and made her choice. ¡°The k-, er, the teenager didn¡¯t make it.¡± She reported quietly to the woodsman after she got his attention. She even managed to tug on his tunic without cringing about being forced to do such a childish thing to get the man¡¯s attention. ¡°Tch, the lad¡¯s just asleep.¡± The man snorted in response. It was, grudgingly admittedly, somewhat reasonable to be unimpressed by the claim of someone¡¯s death when it came from a child. If you ignored the tiny fact that they just came from a town that had been devastated by plagues, who would expect a child to recognize death? Still, despite his words, the man fell back as the caravan slowly (always slowly) ambled forward and leaned over the wagon to check. And then yet another complete stop happened, thanks in large part to the fact that the man clearly lacked any semblance of tact. ¡°Ah fuck, he¡¯s dead!!!¡± The woodsman shouted, all too loudly. Ranthia buried her face in her hands. She was surrounded by idiots. People had crowded around, as if their ability to gaze at the corpse of the recently alive teen might have somehow changed anything. Some argued, some grieved, his widow¡ªnot that that was quite the right word for someone who loses a betrothed, but it was the best word that Ranthia possessed¡ªwept openly. All in all, Ranthia decided that it represented a wonderful opportunity to slip away a bit and practice her newfound magic. She slowly backed away¡­ ¡°Oh, by the way little one, sorry I didn¡¯t believe you. It¡¯s just you¡¯re, y¡¯know¡­¡± The woodsman called out, which drew almost every gaze onto her. Gods and goddesses, WHY?! She had been so close to getting off the road and out of sight! ¡°Ehe¡­ That¡¯s¡­ reasonable?¡± Ranthia replied awkwardly once she turned back to face him and tried to ignore just how many gazes were fixed on her. ¡°¡­Huh, wow, I¡¯ve never seen a freshly unlocked kid get a [Mage] tag already.¡± The woodsman whistled. Ranthia cursed aloud while others, presumably, confirmed for themselves. Though there were a wide variety of reactions, Ranthia¡¯s attention was wholly captured by the look of pure, raw fury on her mother¡¯s face. Ranthia hissed some especially colorful curses when the woman started to stomp toward her. The illusion of privacy was especially thin when Ranthia could see the gawkers. Some of the group focused on the actual dead boy and what to do, but all too many eyes remained fixed on Ranthia¡¯s mother while the woman stormed toward her daughter. The wicked fools outright seemed excited about what was going to happen. May the gods see fit to ruin this life and the next of anyone who enjoyed witnessing a family¡¯s argument. ¡°What were you thinking, you stupid child?!¡± Ranthia¡¯s mother shrieked when she arrived, one arm raised. [Combat] and [Boosted Reflexes] triggered, since the woman¡¯s fingers were curled when she began her strike. She wanted to hurt her daughter. [*ding!* [Dodging] has reached level 8!] Ranthia dodged backwards from the blow and fixed her mother with a glare. ¡°I was thinking that I actually want to survive this reckless trip! I told you! I TOLD YOU this was what would happen!¡± Ranthia shouted back. The childish shrill notes in her voice only stoked her anger further. Her mother¡¯s eyes widened when Ranthia dodged her first strike, but she simply reversed her arm and backhanded the child across her cheek. Ranthia refused to dodge that time, she took the blow¡ªwhich promised a bruise to match the one on her other cheek¡ªwhile she glared at the woman. Her fingers twitched while she considered and discarded the urge to draw her knife. She was an adult, body be damned; she intended to resolve this with words. ¡°You¡¯re only a few years away from being affianced, you stupid child! No one wants a housewife that pretends to play at being some classer!¡± Ranthia¡¯s mother snarled. ¡°Only a few..?!¡ªI¡¯m eight for Xaoc¡¯s sake!¡± Ranthia lost her composure immediately. ¡°If we had more money to our name you¡¯d probably already be betrothed, I had hoped I could train you to be a proper housewife and help hone your looks so you could get a good match before you get too old, but you¡¯re ruining everything!¡± Ranthia inhaled and exhaled while she tried to push her revulsion for the idea aside. What in the name of all that was holy was wrong with these people?! Young women had more to live for than to become property to some man! But Ranthia needed to make her mother understand. ¡°Look, whatever your plans are, they don¡¯t matter right now. None of it matters if I¡¯m dead before my ninth birthday! We¡¯re too small and too vulnerable like this, look what happened when we barely got beyond the outskirts of the farmlands! That snake is one of the least dangerous things out here, and it still was a disaster. You¡¯re lucky I was able to defend myself, especially since you seem determined to prevent me from doing so!¡± Ranthia responded, not quite as calmly as she meant to. ¡°Accidents happen all the time, that doesn¡¯t excuse any of¡­ this! What is wrong with you?! My sweet little Amaranthia would never have run around with a knife like some sort of lunatic! Where did you even get that?!¡± ¡°Accidents? Accidents?! That kid would still be alive if this had been a larger group with a proper escort that knew the area! We¡¯re all in danger! Fifteen people was far too few, especially when the highest leveled person isn¡¯t even past his third class up!¡± ¡°What would a child know about anything?! You don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re talking about!¡± Ranthia fixed her mother with a remarkably¡ªfor her stature¡ªcold glare. ¡°The city had walls for a reason. Predatory beasts, dinosaurs, and other monsters roam the wilds. Or do you doubt that I know about class ups? Level 8¡ªwhich I just escaped from¡ªis the first. The next is level 32. At level 64 you unlock your second class. Level 128 is the next class up. Then 256. Level 512 in either class grants you your third class. The next class up isn¡¯t until level 768. After that¡ª¡± Ranthia began the list in a cold tone, a finger extended with every tier she listed. ¡°SHUT UP! Why¡­ Why did you become so weird? I¡­ I can¡¯t deal with this anymore!¡± Her mother suddenly screamed. Ranthia was left somewhat stupefied. The woman looked stricken, and tears started to escape before she turned around and rushed away toward the back of the convoy. Because I¡¯m not your Ranthia¡­ The explanation that she could never give the woman. Ranthia just ground her teeth in frustration¡ªand guilt¡ªbefore she hurried to the front of the convoy. At some point during the argument the group had gotten underway again, though their membership was more scattered than ever. At least, now that she had been exposed, Ranthia was able to practice openly while they travelled. She consoled herself with focus on her magic and her own plans for her future, though she kept a vigilant eye out as well. Gods knew she wasn¡¯t up in front because she trusted the woodsman¡¯s vigilance. Magic was incredibly intuitive. With ease, Ranthia captured a small amount of the ambient light and shaped it with [Light Manipulation]. She could condense it¡ªthough she didn¡¯t condense it too far, lest she blinded anyone¡ªand form simple shapes with the intangible glow. Once she got the hang of it¡ªand a couple of levels in [Light Manipulation]¡ªRanthia activated [Spell Reworking] and attempted to shape the light into a human-ish form, a process that she continued for as long as her mana held up. Then, while she waited for her mana to recover, Ranthia considered how things had gone, pondered techniques and experiments that might help her once her mana recovered, and planned her next steps. Once her mana was¡ªfinally¡ªfully restored (and there was always a terrible temptation to go ¡®close enough¡¯ and eschew efficiency), she started the cycle anew. Four repetitions later, she was jarred out of her [Spell Reworking] focus when she plowed into the woodsman¡¯s¡­ nope, she refused to finish the thought about where her face had been. Abashed, Ranthia realized the sun had nearly set for the evening and the group had moved off to the side of the road to camp for the night. For all of her talk of vigilance and distrust, she had completely zoned out. Ranthia intended to help out with the establishment of the camp, at least as much as an 8-year-old with limited reach and poor strength could, but everyone waved her off. She elected to not try and interact with her mother, so instead Ranthia sat down out of the way and waited for her mana to regenerate. It would be far more difficult to practice once the sun had gone down. The funeral pyre for the dead boy went off without a hitch, which was kind of surprising since none of the group had experience with building one (the city had collected and handled the plague victims in bulk in an effort to combat the plagues). The farewell was somber and mostly quiet. His widow¡ªRanthia really needed a better word for that¡ªwasn¡¯t up for speaking and no one else pretended they knew the boy well enough to speak for him. Ranthia silently said a second prayer for the boy, just to add something to the moment. He deserved better. Dinner was another communal potluck of the least long-lived foods the group brought along, including the last of their bruised mangos. Ranthia ate with disinterest, her mind focused on her own magic and the next stages of her plans for the development of her skills. That night, the group slept. They knew they should have a watch set, every night they discussed it, but they just never bothered. And Ranthia had learned her lesson about trying to stay awake throughout the night with her limited vitality. Deep into the night, Ranthia was woken up at her bladder¡¯s insistence. She grumbled quietly to herself while she drowsily ambled behind the trees nearby and had just squatted down when her groggy sleep-addled mind was jolted alert by the sound of something that crashed through the jungle, entirely too close to the camp. Something that sounded large. Ranthia cursed an imaginative little swear under her breath¡ªone that would have earned her a blow from her mother, no doubt, had the woman heard it¡ªas she rushed her bladder¡¯s voiding and¡ªas soon as she was done¡ªslipped toward the sound. Her light weight and budding dexterity helped to make her quieter in the jungle than she would otherwise be. She was far from a savant of stealth, she had no skills for it and her dexterity was still low, but her scrawny build and short hair helped. Ranthia balled a fist and tried to condense as much of the moonlight¡ªthank the goddesses of the moons that it was the night of the full moons¡ªinto her hand as she could. All too soon¡ªthe thing was barely a stone¡¯s throw from the camp¡ªshe neared the creature that crashed through the underbrush. It was obviously larger than she was, but the visibility beneath the canopy was far too poor to make out details. Ranthia ran through her options before she landed on her decision. It was dangerous, but¡­ Ranthia further condensed the moonlight and amplified it with [Light Manipulation], backed by every drop of mana and power she could put into it, and thrust her hands at the monster while she¡ªhopefully¡ªpushed the light into its face. A shriek followed immediately, while Ranthia tried to blink the spots out of her vision that were inflicted by the dimmer-than-she-had-hoped flash of light. The shriek concluded with a noisy crash. And Ranthia found herself standing over the dazed and partially blinded teenage girl, the one that had just lost her betrothed such a short time ago. ¡°¡­Whoops?¡± Once the teen had recovered, the two found themselves seated next to each other on a fallen tree. Ranthia felt a little guilty, though she mostly blamed the older girl for crashing through the woods at night like a weird, hungry dinosaur. The teen looked sullen though, so Ranthia decided she needed to apologize properly. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry¡­ uh,¡± by Xaoc, why was she so bad at names, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect anyone to be in the woods. I thought it was some sort of monster.¡± Not that her own plan had been sensical. Blind the monster with a flash of light and then¡­? She had been drowsy, but it was still stupid. ¡°¡­I was going to just disappear into the jungle. I thought I could just walk out into the darkness and die and be with him again.¡± The teenager confessed. Ranthia¡¯s mind froze. She knew very little about herself, all things considered. But she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was the wrong person to deal with this situation! None of her bizarre, eclectic knowledge she was left with was useful here. In a bit of a panic, Ranthia ran through numerous bits of her weird collection of contextless knowledge, each more useless than the last (what even was a goose?). ¡­And then her mind got distracted by something that was, in hindsight, absurdly obvious. ¡°¡­It¡¯s not weird, it¡¯s chaotic!¡± Ranthia suddenly gasped aloud. She earned an odd look from the teen for her non-sequitur. ¡°Er, sorry. I mean uh-,¡± Ranthia fished through her mind for a moment before she decided to fall back on off-the-cuff dogma, ¡°Xaoc lets us be chaotic and take chaotic actions, but He¡ªand most other gods for that matter¡ªfrown upon the waste of life. I¡¯m sure¡­ your beloved¡­ would rather you live as well.¡± Gods, the words sounded awkward and stupid even to her own ear. She really was incredibly unsuited to this. Even a regular 8-year-old that actually had proper damned memories would have likely been able to do better, at least then she would have remembered what it was like to be comforted! Ranthia had never experienced that! The teenager instead started to cry and threw herself against the younger, smaller girl and wrapped her up in a hug. ¡°It¡¯s not wrong to live on without him? I don¡¯t know if I can, but¡­¡± The teenager pleaded. ¡°Uhm, of course not! I can tell you for a fact that Xaoc would want you to live. You can¡­¡± Ranthia¡¯s mind scrambled for a conclusion. There were many good things that she could have said here: ¡®live for him too,¡¯ ¡®carry his memory in a way no one else can,¡¯ ¡®find a new path forward,¡¯ and more! And yet¡­ ¡°¡­find someone else?¡± Ranthia finished, awkwardly, and physically cringed when she realized just how terrible of a thing that was to say to someone that had just lost her betrothed. The teen¡¯s mind obviously worked no better than Ranthia¡¯s own, since, impossibly, she seemed to find the girl¡¯s words persuasive. The young woman visibly¡ªand figuratively, not literally¡ªchewed on the words, her face in hopeful thought. Ranthia smiled, despite her own embarrassment about how bad of a job she was doing, and decided to give the teenager an extra push. ¡°Why in a few more years you¡ª¡± Ranthia stopped herself cold. She was about to offer¡ªto a teenager¡ªthat she look Ranthia up in a few more years. That was beyond horrible for far too many reasons! In many ways, the least of those reasons was the fact that Ranthia was 8 damned years old. ¡­No, the least of the reasons was the intrusive thought that the teenager wasn¡¯t even her type! Ranthia really just wanted to get up, walk away, and scream at herself over that. Ranthia almost entirely vanished into her own mind to stew over the realization of just how terrible and shallow she could be. The teenager, thankfully, was wholly unaware of where Ranthia had been about to take that statement and the internal battle the young girl fought over those words. The teenager, somehow, took the words as a prompt, for her to finish herself. ¡°¡­I could be a beautician in the capital.¡± The teenager smiled a strange smile at the thought. And that was how Ranthia¡ªalmost entirely inadvertently¡ªsaved a life through the power of her words. It promised to forever be a bittersweet memory of a life saved for the worst of reasons and with the worst methods; even in the moment Ranthia felt equal parts cringing disgust with herself and warm fuzzy feelings for helping to save the teen¡¯s life by giving her a new goal to work towards. Entirely by accident. Book 1 - Chapter 5 - Spellcraft and Banditry The girl¡ªteenager, several years Ranthia¡¯s senior¡ªwasn¡¯t willing to go back to the camp so readily, so the two stayed up late while they talked. Or, put less generously, the teenager talked while Ranthia boredly stared at the sky. The moons hung overhead, red and luminous. Ranthia had always admired them, and she was confident that her prior self had done so as well. They were beautiful in a mystical and fantastical sort of way. Xaoc had always oddly ignored any compliments that she sent Him about the moons though. She supposed it was because there were the two moon goddesses, but they were latecomers. It was Xaoc and the other four great gods that crafted their world and brought forth all life found upon Pallos, so Ranthia felt like Xaoc and the other four great gods deserved the praise, domains be damned. Clearly, He disagreed. That or, perhaps, it was one of the other members of the five great gods that were responsible for the moons? In addition to Xaoc, God of Chaos, there was Aion, Goddess of Life; Thanatos, God of Death; Papilion, God/dess of Change; and, technically, Seira, Goddess of Order. Could Aion have sculpted the moons to gaze down upon creation? Perhaps Thanatos crafted the moons to remind all that lived of their finite nature? Or perhaps it was some whim of Papilion, as beautiful as it was ephemeral? Ranthia was the first to admit that she was profoundly biased, but she refused to believe that the stodgy woman that governed order could have crafted something so lovely and important. Surely Pallos was a success despite the woman¡¯s efforts to render it inert and unimpressive. Order was simplicity, it was to surrender progress and innovation, it was¡ª ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet. I¡¯m not boring you, am I?¡± Ranthia blinked up at the plain-looking teen, embarrassed. She had no idea what the girl had been prattling about. It had been about her brothers and sisters when Ranthia last paid attention, but that was¡­ probably some time ago. ¡°Um, no, it¡¯s not that! It¡¯s just,¡± Ranthia¡¯s mind groped desperately for an excuse, ¡°I¡­ kind of forgot your name and felt embarrassed?¡± Why did her mind have to grab a fragment of the truth!? The teen laughed. Ranthia¡¯s face colored, but the teen waved her off. ¡°It¡¯s okay, sorry, I shouldn¡¯t have laughed! I was just worried that I was being annoying, so I¡¯m relieved to know that¡¯s all it was. My name¡¯s Hexara.¡± Ranthia had to bite her lip. ¡­Because it took every fiber of her willpower to resist the urge to laugh. The name sounded ridiculous! It sounded like something a shady alchemist might sell under the counter to those that knew to ask for it. Ranthia¡¯s certainty that she was a terrible person only increased. Sleep deprivation sucked. Yes, she was glad that Hexara was alive¡ªand of course the name finally stuck in her memory for the worst of reasons¡ªbut she was a growing woman in an 8-year-old body. She needed more than a few hours of sleep. Her lip was sorer than her cheeks were, she had managed to break the skin when she bit it. Once again, she ambled just behind the woodsman¡ªa couple of paces further back than she had previously, which she hoped was enough¡ªwhile she tried to practice her magic. Emphasis on tried, because the day brought a change that made things substantially more difficult: Hexara walked alongside her and continued to try to engage her in conversation. The kid was either desperate for companionship or oblivious, and Ranthia made no bets on which it was. The little girl that had tried to befriend Ranthia had avoided her ever since the snake incident¡ªthe ingrate¡ªbut the teenager was in some ways worse. Ranthia was jarred out of [Spell Reworking] yet again when the teenager suddenly bumped her with her hip. ¡°You¡¯ve gone quiet again.¡± The teen innocently answered when Ranthia tried to glare at her. ¡°Like I said, I have to focus when I use this skill¡­¡± It had become an all too familiar exchange. ¡°You need to learn to focus while you engage with others. It¡¯s an important skill for stylists!¡± Okay, that part was new. ¡°¡­But I don¡¯t want to work on hair?¡± Ranthia replied lamely. ¡°Oh silly, the skills of a stylist apply everywhere in life!¡± When on Pallos had this girl decided she was an expert?! She had literally just come up with the career path that night! ¡­Well, as far as Ranthia knew, at least. ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Ranthia replied, plainly unconvinced. ¡°It¡¯s true. You have to see the detail of the part you¡¯re working on while keeping the whole and the overall plan in mind. Isn¡¯t that the same with your [Mage] stuff?¡± The teen queried with innocent curiosity. ¡­Ranthia had no response. Grudgingly, she had to admit that the teen had actually made a valid point. What was worse though, was the fact that it was probably solid advice that it might¡ªmight¡ªserve as a new angle to approach her process that maybe might help her get past the wall she had hit on her efforts. The cutesy little bit of advice had proven itself invaluable. Ranthia emerged from the depths of [Spell Reworking]¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t quite as absolutely engrossing as it had been¡ªand checked her System notifications. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Magissistant] has reached level 18! +2 Mana, +2 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat point for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration from your Element.] [*ding!* [Light Affinity] has leveled from 14 to level 18!] [*ding!* [Light Manipulation] has leveled from 11 to level 17!] [*ding!* [Light Resistance] has leveled from 2 to level 4!] [*ding!* [Spell Reworking] has leveled from 14 to level 18!] [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Light Blob]!] [Light Blob]: Why waste time manipulating ambient light into one mass when you¡¯re just making an amorphous blob of light, like a toddler that was given some clay? Skip the middleman! Increased shape control and size with level. [*ding!* [Identify] has reached level 18!] ¡°Well?¡± Hexara immediately asked, with a smug smile. ¡°¡­Your advice helped.¡± Ranthia finally admitted, after a long exhale. Hexara¡¯s happy squeal was actually kind of cute. Two weeks had passed on the road. Each day was largely identical. Ranthia woke up, she grabbed a handful of trail rations to munch as the group walked together around the wagons at a speed that was, somehow, less than what any individual member of the group could have walked alone. The group stopped constantly for an unreliable¡ªand often unreasonable¡ªamount of time. The journey resumed. Then the journey halted for dinner and to set up camp, usually within sight of their prior campsite. Sometimes Hexara walked with Ranthia, sometimes she stayed back with the other kids to help keep an eye on them. She seemed to have emerged from the shell that she had kept around herself while she was with her deceased betrothed, which¡­ well, Ranthia wasn¡¯t going to be the one to speak ill of the dead by drawing inferences. She wasn¡¯t that close to the young woman. Ranthia continued to practice her magic as she walked and had begun to randomly flood the area in front of the caravan with as bright of light as she could shine through her still-too-shapeless blobs of light. She figured it might help drive away some of the wildlife, since no one in the group seemed to hunt¡­ which really felt like an odd omission for such a journey. Even Ranthia could tell that they were going to run out of food before they reached the next city, and it wasn¡¯t like they let her inventory the supplies. The others swiftly learned to not look in her direction, perpetually positioned a bit to the left of the front of the caravan. She was a bright child, in every sense of the word, as Hexara joked more than once (as if humor was somehow increasingly witty when repeated). The physical labor required to move as part of the caravan had been good for her natural strength and vitality as well, which was still a stat she desperately needed to boost further. Realistically, she really should have focused more on her physical training, but she needed to get her magic to an acceptable baseline too. It wasn¡¯t quite a conscious decision to focus on her magic so completely, but it was just kind of what ended up happening. The bulk of Ranthia¡¯s efforts were focused on refining the shape of her [Light Blob] efforts, as she struggled to make them more human-like. Every point of Magic Control helped and so she had begun to hate the Magic Power<->Magic Control tradeoff intensely. Every eight points in one of the stats decreased the other, and vice-versa (Strength and Dexterity had the same relationship as well, but that wasn¡¯t quite as relevant to her yet). She wanted those two points in each back! She was constantly tempted to dump the rest of her free stats into Magic Control, but she also needed her Magic Power and thus she had split them equally between the two stats every time she used them. Still pissed her off though, why did the System have to have such a ridiculous cost sink integrated into it? Ranthia was in the midst of another [Spell Reworking] session when she heard the omnidirectional *ding!* inside her mind. While this wasn¡¯t exactly atypical, for whatever reason it broke her from her focused reverie. Curious, Ranthia checked the newest notification. [*ding!* Would you like to evolve [Light Blob] into [Homunculus of Light]?] [Homunculus of Light]: Form vaguely humanoid constructs of light. Range, number of simultaneous constructs and posable nature increase with level. They may destabilize if interacted with. ¡°Yes!!! Xaoc, I¡¯ve done it!¡± Ranthia shrieked joyously. Ranthia immediately accepted the upgrade. She wanted to dance! She wanted to celebrate! Her mood was so uplifted that she was even tempted to seek out her mother, not that she or her mother had said more than a few terse words to one another since their big fight. ¡°That¡¯s great little one, don¡¯t suppose whatever you did can help with this?¡± The woodsman¡¯s voice pulled her attention out of her celebratory haze. Oddly, there were a large number of rocks on the road, relatively large ones. Rocks from the jungle? How did they get on the road? Ranthia was completely baffled. Nothing she knew could explain such a strange thing. It wasn¡¯t like there was a mountain or a big hill near enough that they could have rolled off of, at least not from what she could see above the canopy. Ranthia walked over and decided to walk through the rocks to see how big the pile truly was. The gaps would have been sufficient for an adult to squeeze through with a bit of care and patience, but the gaps were trivial for a child to traverse. She slipped through quietly while she stared at the rocks and puzzled at their existence. Perhaps there was a collapsed structure on the other side, some sort of former inn or temporary conjured shelter that had failed? Instead, Ranthia emerged to find three armed and armored men, with weapons pointed at her. Fortunately, the trio seemed to be just as confused at the sight of a child as she was of them. Instinctively, she took their moment of indecision to [Identify] the three men. Each was [Warrior] tagged. Levels 167, 170, and 224. ¡°Bandits!¡± Ranthia screamed, at the top of her too-puny lungs. It was an assumption, but it seemed to be a damned valid one! Ranthia needed to warn the others, lest any of the idiots that she traveled with were on their way through the rocks. Unfortunately, the men that had their weapons trained on her began to move, spurred into action by her shout. [*ding!* [Boosted Reflexes] has reached level 15!] Thanks to her reflexes, Ranthia had just enough time to gather enough light from the surroundings. She made herself glow with the brightest light that she could for a single moment, which caused the men to hesitate and even recoil ever so slightly from her. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was just enough time stolen to allow her to dive back behind the rocks and run through them. She was surprised at how¡­ calm she felt. She had no idea where her strange sense of calm came from, not really. It could have been [Combat], [Boosted Reflexes], maybe [Fast Learner], or just her own chaotic knowledge set she inherited with her rebirth. Or maybe it was just that her soul remembered the taste of battle. That said, she still spared a single moment to rage over the fact that all of her odd knowledge failed to include ¡®obstacles blocking the road means bandits!¡¯ It was a damned significant oversight when she knew they existed. After that moment, she focused on what she could do. The bandits were well equipped and were of a high enough level that the woodsman would barely even slow them down, even if he was half as impressive as he thought he was. The danger their group was in really couldn¡¯t be overstated. ¡­Gods, fighting was out of the question. Escape was a joke. That only left¡­ Already she heard the men she escaped swearing while they called to others. The first three were already bad enough, the fact that there were more of them was absolutely overkill! Desperation cemented her plan. They had to surrender. Ranthia emerged from the rocks and saw the familiar face of the woodsman. His face had become a grim mask, and his trusty axe was held ready. Good, he seemed to be in a rational state, he had to listen to her! ¡°Bandits, we need to¡ª¡± Ranthia began to speak. The woodsman roughly shoved her aside, heedless of her words. Ranthia landed in the dirt and looked up to see the woodsman charge at one of the bandits who had emerged from the jungle. One of the ones the trio had called out to, no doubt. ¡°No, don¡¯t!¡± She screamed ineffectually. The woodsman raised his axe. A heartbeat later, the bandit¡¯s spear erupted from his back in a bloom of blood. The woodsman died immediately, and his axe fell from his limp grasp. He perished so easily¡­ His tool of trade had never even come close to touching the bandit, before the man had driven his spear through the woodsman¡¯s chest. In those moments of death, six additional bandits had emerged and already they advanced on the others. The men practically radiated cold violence. Yet the baker, Hexara, and the tavern wench had armed themselves with kitchen knives and stood ready to meet their advance. Ranthia wasn¡¯t sure what expressions her people wore, there was no time to process it. This wouldn¡¯t be a fight; it promised to be nothing more than senseless slaughter. ¡°NO!¡± Ranthia scrambled to her feet and ran forward as quickly as she could. One of the bandits kicked at her when she tried to duck past him to reach the others. [*ding!* [Dodging] has leveled from 10 to level 16!] [*ding!* [Boosted Reflexes] has leveled from 15 to level 22!] [*ding!* [Combat] has reached level 15!] By the grace of Xaoc, Ranthia managed to dodge the blow. Had she managed to actually survive the kick, the blow would have likely crippled her with the level difference between her and the level 174 bandit. The moment she was clear, Ranthia leapt forward and spun back towards the bandits while she gripped her magic and shoved everything she could into [Homunculus of Light]. A single tall humanoid figure forged from brilliant, warm light formed between the bandits and Ranthia¡¯s people. It was much taller than anyone present¡ªroughly twice a human¡¯s size¡ªand it stood with its arms spread as a blockade, positioned immediately behind Ranthia. It was rough, but¡­ The bandits hesitated! She probably only had a moment, but¡­ ¡°We have to surrender! We can¡¯t fight, I don¡¯t want anyone else to die over something this fucking stupid! We¡¯re refugees leaving Perinthus; we just survived a plague we have nothing worth killing everyone here over!¡± Ranthia tried to condense every thought she had about how to avoid the fight into a single plea, directed to both the bandits and the idiot villagers. The world itself seemed to pause its endless cycle while everyone fell silent for a precious moment or two¡ªwhich felt like a small slice of eternity¡ªwhile Ranthia tried and largely failed to stop the trembling that threatened to overtake her. ¡°You worm-eared idiots! Stand down! By all the gods I told you to NOT kill anyone! That little girl is clearly both smarter and braver than you worthless maggots!¡± The reverie shattered when the three bandits that Ranthia had encountered on the other side of the rocks finally finished their traversal of their own obstacle. The highest level one had immediately started to shout at the group, while the other bandits awkwardly lowered their weapons. The man walked straight to the woodsman and knelt to confirm his status, before he stood again and glared down at the bandit with the bloodied spear. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Why?¡± He demanded. ¡°¡­He came at me, armed.¡± The bandit whimpered back. ¡°A scared woodcutter, half your level and wielding a gods damned tool, was too great a threat to disarm?¡± ¡°¡­No sir.¡± The apparent bandit leader sighed and shook his head, before he walked over and knelt in front of Ranthia, though he remained a respectful distance away. His beard seemed like that of a man who had been clean shaven¡ªlike every other man she had seen to date¡ªuntil quite recently. His armor and weaponry were well maintained. ¡°I¡¯ll defend myself if I have to.¡± Ranthia challenged him, with her best fierce glare. She wanted to surrender, but that didn¡¯t mean she was some meek child to be toyed with! [*ding!* [Cute] has reached level 7!] Godsdamnit. The man smirked ever so slightly before he steeled his expression. Ranthia stole the opportunity to study the man further¡­ before she realized something obvious. She had seen the same armor before, in Perinthus. ¡°You¡¯re with the military!¡± She blurted out. ¡°We were, yes. But, unfortunately, you had it right the first time little [Mage]. We¡¯re deserters, we left the 3rd Legion and have become shameful bandits. I do apologize for all of this nastiness though; I told these idiots we should just let anyone through unmolested if they came from the Perinthus side. Part of that is on me, your ¡®powerful¡¯ spells caught me off-guard.¡± The man chuckled self-deprecatingly after he finished speaking. His words finally reminded Ranthia that she still had her spell active, and she hurriedly cancelled it before the last wisps of her mana were drained. It seemed that there was an upkeep cost to [Homunculus of Light], which she hadn¡¯t ever noticed with its predecessor, [Light Blob]. Despite the situation, she still made a mental note that the spell was still too inefficient if it still used mana constantly while active, rather than just an up-front cost. Maybe that was something she could work on and improve? She hoped so¡­ The bandits, ten in total, escorted the villagers and their wagons off the road and through a cleverly concealed trail to their campsite, where a handful more men waited. The other villagers were relieved of the kitchen knives they had armed themselves with, though Ranthia kept her own concealed knife. No one had searched her, and the villagers had enough sense to not mention it. That or they failed to think of it, but Ranthia was trying to give their surviving members some benefit of the doubt. One of the bandits made the suggestion that they should tie Ranthia up. The leader lambasted the man for that. After all, in their eyes, she was a tiny kid and a Light aspected [Mage], while he was a grown ass trained soldier armed in Remus¡¯ best Legion-issued equipment. To everyone¡¯s surprise, the bandits fed the travelers. It was hard to say if the villagers were more surprised by this or if the bandits were. The leader of the bandits had simply declared that the villagers would be their guests for a day or three while he decided what to do. His men were loyal enough to not challenge his decision, but to Ranthia it seemed a near thing. Each man seemed to go through some level of inner turmoil before they finally assented. It was far from instant, and it spoke of larger problems. Problems that might well end up their problem, since the leader seemed to be the only thing that stood between them and whatever ill fate the other men deigned to inflict upon them. The woodsman¡¯s funeral pyre was barely acknowledged. The bandit that killed him meandered in the vicinity around it, guilt writ upon his face, though even that failed to convince him to approach properly. A couple of the others from the group had stood by while it started, but they soon departed. Ranthia, awkwardly, stood vigil over it. She prayed for the man¡ªwhose name she had never learned¡ªand asked Xaoc to grant the man an extra modicum of wisdom for his next life. He needed it. Night fell, but Ranthia was unable to sleep. The bandits¡ªproving they had more sense than anyone she had met since she left the temple after she was healed¡ªkept watch, with two per shift atop a roughly constructed watchtower that was only as tall as two or maybe three men. Still, their vigilance meant that there was no escape. The men still had military discipline and weren¡¯t stupid enough to shirk watch duty in a dangerous jungle. They did, however, turn a blind eye to the tavern wench¡¯s visits to a few tents that night as she tried to plead for her life and safety in the best way she knew how. Ranthia wouldn¡¯t judge her for that. She just sat in the section of camp they had been ordered to stay inside and kept her own watch on the men that controlled their fates. The next day heralded a sky that was dark and grey in all directions. The air was heavy with the threat of rain and the villagers and bandits focused their morning on the preparation of shelter after a quick breakfast. The deluge, as usual, started well before anyone was ready. Choice curses all around! Ranthia even learned some new ones that she could work into her repertoire. That evening, everyone was huddled under a large make-shift pavilion canopy set up over the cooking area. They ate warm, bland stew and waited nervously for the decision from the leader of the bandits. He had promised to give his decision over dinner, likely to appease his men. Ranthia flagged heavily from her lack of sleep, but she started awake any time anyone cleared their throat or made any sort of unusual vocalized noise. Her life had consisted entirely of living at the mercy and whims of others. She was sick of it, though there was little that an 8-year-old could do, except be awake to learn what was to come. At last, the leader of the bandit crew entered. The noise fell and Ranthia physically shook away her drowsiness. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve come to a decision. Folks, I am sorry for this, but we will be taking all the coin you had and any other valuables, like jewelry and such. Though this isn¡¯t a terrible deal for you, because I¡¯m sending three of my men with you. They¡¯ll be your escorts, who can keep you folks safe. Your group is too small and far too low in level to get through the Kadan Jungle safely. Just think of the coin and valuables as the cost of hire.¡± Briefly, the bandits and villagers seemed to be united in their protest. The discussion dragged late into the night and, somehow, during it the origin story of the 3rd Legion soldiers turned bandits came out. Apparently, the group was comprised of the soldiers that worked directly under a commanding officer who was sentenced to execution by the Rangers in Perinthus (maybe Remus wasn¡¯t so terrible if greedy corruption from officials earned the death penalty). The group deserted the 3rd Legion out of concern that they would be punished for their connection to the man and the fact that they had followed his orders. They feared that they were certain to be sent back to the front lines¡ªagain¡ªto be removed from sight and mind. Ranthia was always eager to learn about her world and she was drowsy enough to be a touch short-sighted. It was a perfect blend that allowed her to ask what was, apparently, her most damning question yet. ¡°Who are we at war with?¡± She was immediately unnerved by the looks that she got from nearly every single person¡ªvillager and bandit both¡ªthat was present. The discussions continued, despite the brief pause induced by that interruption. No one had deigned to answer her, and it seemed the group had come to the unspoken consensus to pretend that the bizarre child hadn¡¯t spoken at all. In summary, the three bandits that were to guard them had been newly attached to the group and were innocent of following the problematic orders of the condemned officer. Their names weren¡¯t well known, and the bandit leader was confident that they would be able to disappear into a medium-sized town and find a new life. In the end, the bandits agreed with the plan without any overt complaints, though two of the three that were being sent off seemed to have mixed feelings about leaving their companions. The villagers were less than convinced, despite the bandits¡¯ insistence that three high level warriors for the scant valuables the convoy had was a steal. In spite of that, the villagers were concerned about what they would do when they reached a new town with no money and, of course, they were displeased with the fact that the valuables were literally being stolen. Ranthia, on the other hand, really felt that their frustration should have been tempered by the knowledge that they really didn¡¯t have much choice. Complaining that the people robbing you weren¡¯t being generous enough about it was just plain stupid. They were being allowed to leave¡ªwhich was more than a little dangerous to the survival of traitors turned bandits¡ªand the men that were to accompany them were likely to be the sole reason they made it anywhere alive. Not that the group had ever listened to her about their safety. At long last, the group finally called it a night. The sun had set an age ago, and Ranthia was so glad that it was done. Their safety seemed to be mostly assured, and she needed sleep badly. Yet while the people ambled off for their various sleeping arrangements, Ranthia¡¯s mother caught her attention and indicated a quiet part of the camp. Between the lack of anything over there, how late it was, and the downpour there was likely a bit of privacy to be had there, or at least the closest facsimile to privacy they were likely to find. The woman then slipped out, as soon as she knew that Ranthia had seen. Ranthia slowly walked to the designated location, after a very necessary visit to the latrine. It had been a very long meeting! It wasn¡¯t just that she wasn¡¯t looking forward to another argument. And she knew it was going to be another argument. Honestly, Ranthia was pretty sick of dealing with it; her mother had been nothing but abusive her entire life (as far as she knew). Ranthia arrived and looked around¡­ had her mother not waited? There was nothing over there. Just when Ranthia cursed aloud and was about to storm off, her mother stepped out from around the pile of logs and pointed one of the bandit¡¯s short swords at her own daughter. Ranthia tensed and her hand instinctively drew her knife from its hiding place. [Combat] and [Knives] automatically adjusted her stance, before she even had time to think. ¡­Because she had no idea what to think. ¡°What are you!? Are you some changeling that devoured and replaced my little Amaranthia, or did that whore of a [Healer] do this to you somehow? Give my sweet little girl back!¡± The mother demanded, her voice an angry hiss as she struggled to both yell and whisper at the same time. A whirlwind of emotions filled Ranthia¡¯s mind, and the sensation seemed to spread across her entire body. There was anger and outrage at being threatened and her mother¡¯s disbelief in her humanity. Righteous fury over the attractive young [Healer] that had saved her life being accused and being called a whore. Fear and uncertainty at the concept of crossing blades with her mother, even if the woman had basically been little more than an abusive stranger to her. And, of course, there was a small nugget of guilt since she ultimately had no idea if she even was truly Ranthia. The anger, outrage, and righteous fury won out. Ranthia moved a step closer to the blade pointed at her, her own knife held up defensively. A snarl covered her face as she basically dared her mother to attack, before her response tore out of her mouth in a low, angry tone. ¡°So, it¡¯s my fault I lost my memory, or worse the fault lies with the sweet woman who saved my life!? Tell me, Mother,¡± the word was spat acidly, ¡°just how long was I sick? How long did you leave me dying before you heard about a healer that would actually work for free?¡± That was one thing she had pieced together after the pretty [Healer] and the other Rangers had left Perinthus. Ranthia realized that she had never seen a single coin change hands. Further, the Ranger [Healer] had no cash box in the room, nor was anyone else present carrying a swollen coin purse. The older [Healer], the one that had merely confirmed the useful one¡¯s prognosis, had required hard coin and made a grand show of reducing his fee since he wasn¡¯t treating Ranthia, merely confirming what they had already been told. Shock and guilt covered the stranger she used to call Mother¡¯s face, but only for a moment. ¡°Don¡¯t you turn this back on me! I know you and those brats you used to play with would play Soldiers Versus Formorians, not that I ever approved. Everyone in Remus knows about the eternal war! And you, you haven¡¯t acted at all like my Amaranthia ever since you woke up asking who I am! You¡¯ve known and done things that make no sense, but you never know what you¡¯re supposed to!¡± The rain made it impossible to tell if either of them shed tears while they faced off and pointed weapons at one another. But both women seemed to reach the same conclusion: Whatever bond they had, it had frayed badly with their previous argument¡­ and then and there it had died. ¡°I don¡¯t have to listen to this shit! I was left for dead and maybe it¡¯s for the best I don¡¯t remember my life with you! Xaoc is all I need, and I pledge before His name that I. Am. Human! You fucking, horrible idiot!¡± Ranthia snapped. She then shoved the knife back into hiding, and in her anger, she nearly sliced straight through her tunic and into her hip in the process. Ranthia barely even noticed the damage to her tunic, she just presented the other woman with her middle finger before she turned and stormed off through the rain. Honestly, she truly expected to have to dodge a sword thrust at her back, but the older woman surprised her by making no move at all. Not that it stopped Ranthia from storming off. She was too angry to sleep after that, no matter how exhausted she was. Instead, she climbed the rickety watchtower and sat down with the bandits up there. The men ignored her for a while, until one of them moved closer to get her under the oil-treated cloak he wore to ward off at least some of the rain. ¡­Ranthia still wasn¡¯t sure if the water on her face was just the rain, or if she had started crying at some point through all that. She refused to taste it and find out, she just angrily told herself that it didn¡¯t matter. Instead, she just sat there and raged in silence throughout the night. Two nights without sleep wouldn¡¯t kill her. The next morning, when the bandits gathered for their morning drills¡ªdespite the torrential downpour¡ªRanthia joined them. None of the men said a word, instead a couple of them simply made a space for her in their formation and allowed her to join them. In a surprise that only she failed to see coming, Ranthia proved to be utterly incapable of keeping up with the former soldiers. She was frustrated and exhausted beyond reason afterwards, but she could only promise herself that she would do better. She was trapped in the body of an 8-year-old, but she had to become capable of protecting herself. And she knew that she had to get to that level immediately. Clearly, no one else would ever be there for her. The plan was for the villagers and their escort to depart a couple of days after the rains stopped. The roads needed to be dry enough for the slow wagons to avoid getting stuck, and each day everyone expected the rains to conclude sometime that day. For better or worse, nature had other plans, and it rained just often enough for everything to stay wet and muddy for the next few weeks. The villagers complained and fretted about the weather; they were eager to get away from the ¡®dangerous¡¯ bandits as soon as possible. Ranthia, on the other hand, was grateful for the delay. No, she was ecstatic about it. Each day she continued to train as often as her body allowed, both with the bandits and by herself. One of the bandits that was to escort them when they left even began to help train her knife combat and helped to hone and polish her style (apparently her spat with her mother had drawn eyes and the fact that she was armed was kind of an open secret, though her mother had a terribly bruised wrist for a while from when she was disarmed over her stolen sword). The training was also great for Ranthia¡¯s body, even if it was hard and her best efforts paled in comparison to even the casual displays of competency that the trained soldiers presented. But she improved. Bit by bit and day by day. The bandits had proven to be a fascinating sounding board for her plans, at least for her immediate plans to become stronger and self-reliant. They had no [Mages] in their number, but they had trained alongside many. And, frankly, they had a strong sense of viability in combat. Her magic looked impressive but, as they were fond of pointing out, functionally it did nothing. Immobile human-ish glowing figures had a certain shock value the soldiers admitted, but they were right about the fact that her light figures had no offensive or defensive function and were easily dispersed. Worse, Ranthia proved to be unable to even conjure them without shelter when it rained, each droplet just completely annihilated her efforts to keep the light shaped. Ranthia valued their input, but she was still cagey with her plans for her future class evolutions. In the end, she only trusted them a little, which seemed fair given that they were traitors that had captured their group, stolen their money, and killed one of their number. Rather than get into her second magic class and her hopes to merge the two¡ªand eventually become as close to unkillable as she could imagine¡ªRanthia instead convinced the bandits that melee combat was the answer to what she would do when she surprised a foe with the figures of light. Of course, that begged the obvious question, and the bandits were quick to ask why she didn¡¯t use a bow instead of a knife. Range made it easier to deal with surprised targets, and even Ranthia had to admit that archery had a strong synergy with her current build. Ranthia had hated to give anything away to people that weren¡¯t truly allies, but they were persistent. Finally, Ranthia admitted that she planned to take a Dark-aspected melee [Warrior] for her second class. It was true, after all! ¡­It just wasn¡¯t actually her immediate plan; it was something she had planned for much later on. She ended up a bit pigeonholed though. The ex-soldiers unanimously just kind of decided for her that her future [Warrior] class was going to wield knives. Ranthia¡­ hadn¡¯t really decided what weapon she wanted to wield. She was able to practice the basic forms with a short sword, but even lighter blades were mildly impractically sized for an 8-year-old (and there was no way she could conceal it on her person). Spears¡­ well, she could thrust one¡ªsomewhat awkwardly¡ªbut that was it. Ranthia was confident that knives were the ideal weapon for children. ¡­But that didn¡¯t necessarily mean that she intended to always wield one. Still, Ranthia was willing to admit that they gave her some great suggestions for how to modify her training regimen to help her improve the class quality of her future [Warrior] class. The knife drills helped her immediately and she could reconsider her training regimen in the future when she found her perfect partner weapon, she supposed. Plus, overall, it was for the best if she adopted their suggestions immediately. It wasn¡¯t like the weight of her efforts would escape the System¡¯s notice over time, if anything they¡¯d stack up even further. And, in the end, she needed every advantage that she could get. Ranthia had been excessively nervous about doing it, but after she sat at level 32 for several days she finally caved and decided to trust the bandits with her safety while she classed up. The bandit leader was nice enough to lend her his personal tent for the process, but she was still nervous about it. It took her more time to decide to class up than she spent in the world within. Once she finally accepted that no one was coming in to¡­ do whatever, Ranthia finally settled in and triggered her class up. Her guide simply presented a pale red-wrapped blade to her and, since there wasn¡¯t really another option that was worth considering¡­ ¡­Ranthia eventually emerged from the tent as a [Deceptive Decoy Mage] and was one step closer to her goals for her build. The class did everything she had dared hope for, aside from the System miraculously handing her an advanced element out of nowhere. Look, there was a difference between what you dared to realistically hope for and what you dreamed in your heart, and the latter was almost always disappointed. To celebrate, as soon as she emerged from the tent with a smile on her face, the bandit leader grinned and presented her with a gift to celebrate her successful class up. He held out a belt that had been cut down to fit her with only a double loop. It was a nice leather belt, of course, but the real gifts were the two military-issue knives sheathed on either side of it. Ranthia made the polite, expected noise about being unable to accept the gift; but she put the belt on even while she made the noises. The thick knives were made for slashing and were an incomparable upgrade to the increasingly chipped piece of trash she had pilfered from a gutter. Of course, this meant her training had to be refocused on a dual knife style, and she had just gotten used to her previous drills. Oh well, it was worth it! It proved to require more than a little effort to retrain her body and instincts to a dual weapon style. Ranthia needed to adapt, but it was undeniably worth it. The dual knife style that she adapted from the dual short swords one of their¡ªeventual¡ªescorts demonstrated promised to be far more effective than a single knife, since she could slash and defend or double up on her slashes. Every bit mattered with her limited reach. Plus, sticking with knives for training made more sense while she was trapped in her current physique than drilling with heavier weaponry that she was only barely able to use. And, well, she was fond of her new knives. They were sharp, well-maintained, and literally designed for use in combat. They were beautiful and a wondrous upgrade from what she had before. ¡­Not that a rusty, fragile piece of literal garbage was difficult to surpass. Ranthia did feel some remorse though, a bit of guilt that stemmed from the fact that she allowed the bandits to assume she was just a (somewhat proverbial) step away from unlocking her second class and becoming a knife-focused [Warrior], but there was no way that she was going to return the knives. She needed them and she loved them. The knives had immediately become a part of her routine and every night she carefully maintained them before she prayed to Xaoc and went to sleep. It was nearly a month after they were supposed to have left¡ªand was mere days after she had received her knives¡ªwhen the group finally departed. The persistent rains had stopped the day she classed up (not that she believed there was any correlation, not even for an instant), and the sky had finally cleared. Ranthia felt like a changed woman¡ªgirl, whatever¡ªbut she was still determined to continue to improve. She wasn¡¯t quite confident (or delusional) enough to believe that she was independent yet, but she was going to get there.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 8]
[Mana: 640/640]
[Mana Regen Rate: 851]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 2]
[Strength: 11]
[Dexterity: 34]
[Vitality: 9]
[Speed: 9]
[Mana: 64]
[Mana Regeneration: 91]
[Magic Power: 37]
[Magic Control: 37]
[Class 1: [Deceptive Decoy Mage ¨C Light (35)]]
[Light Affinity: 35]
[Light Manipulation: 35]
[Light Resistance: 21]
[Spell Reworking: 35]
[Homunculus of Light: 35]
[Light Conjuration: 6]
[Light Haze: 9]
-
[Class 2: Locked]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 35]
[Combat: 35]
[Knives: 35]
[Dodging: 30]
[Boosted Reflexes: 35]
[Fast Learner: 29]
[Parrying: 12]
[Cute: 8]
Book 1 - Chapter 6 - Familial Bonds The journey, at the very least, felt faster with their new escort. The former soldiers had actual experience with convoys and had made dozens of little things more efficient, like tending to the donkeys or dealing with a wagon that got stuck. Plus, they repacked the luggage¡ªwhat was left after the bandits¡¯ so-called fee¡ªmore competently and freed up a bit better than half of the space on one of the wagons. This allowed for a break rotation that kept the convoy mobile while its less physically capable members (mostly the kids that hadn¡¯t unlocked yet, not that any of the group except their escort had a decent level) rested as needed. So, it felt faster, though Ranthia had her doubts that it really improved their speed all that much. The road always seemed to feel the same, which made it difficult to believe that they were truly much faster. Ranthia, for her part, was more stubborn than ever and was determined to gain additional natural strength, speed, and vitality stat points. This made her determined to completely avoid time spent on the wagon. Unfortunately, life conspired to thwart her, it seemed. First, there was the¡ªoh so minor¡ªfact that she was still stuck in an 8-year-old body that had never really been well-fed or fit. Second, her ill-fitting sandals got progressively worse almost daily as she suffered through another minor growth spurt. Every time she was forced to take a break in the wagon she seethed, felt sorry for herself, and just generally made for terrible company, even by the low standards she had previously set. When she wasn¡¯t indulging in a perfectly reasonable bout of grumpiness that certainly wasn¡¯t a childish tantrum, two of the three former soldiers indulged Ranthia. They welcomed her presence when sleep eluded her¡ªrestlessness was perfectly natural, she absolutely was not still distressed over that horrible stranger she had briefly called her mother¡ªand she joined their watch shifts, and the same duo happily trained with her before the convoy broke camp every morning. They were also happy to share the practical sorts of wisdom that trained soldiers of the Legion picked up. The third ex-soldier, on the other hand, was content to loudly (and repeatedly) snort in derision if he felt either of his peers wasted too much time over the weird girl, but otherwise ignored her existence. She was all too willing to ignore him in kind. Not that Ranthia had absorbed a single name from the former soldiers still. She had no idea how or why she was so terrible with names, but the affliction was really starting to bug her. What kind of a person heard someone¡¯s name¡ªeven repeatedly¡ªand just¡­ failed to absorb it unless it stood out in some horrible way? Though Ranthia trained with two of the three former soldiers-slash-former bandits, one in particular tended to be her direct trainer. The short one, as she mentally referred to him, used dual short swords and was, honestly, kind of brilliant about advice on how to modify his techniques to suit her knives and smaller form. He also had an inordinate fondness for the weirdest training exercises Ranthia had ever seen. ¡°Left!¡± Ranthia pivoted on her heel¡ªwhile her too-small sandals dug into her feet¡ªand raised one knife to parry, while she slashed with the one in her right hand. Once the maneuver was done, she kicked off the ground to resume her sprint, lest she get bogged down. She had only made that mistake once. The whole ordeal was exhausting, but getting bogged down had nearly brought her down. ¡°Faster, we¡¯re losing the convoy!¡± The short ex-soldier snapped. Not that losing the convoy was even remotely possible, but she had lost a bit of ground on the last few exchanges. They were in an ¡®especially nasty¡¯ stretch of the jungle. The villagers had been loaded into the wagons entirely while the ex-soldiers stoically ignored the nonstop litany of complaints from the overcrowded idiots. Because the ex-soldiers had killed seven Saber-tooth tigers already, in the span of half a day. The donkeys were a curse that slowed them down, but at the very least they could keep the helpless off the menu. Thus, the contained and unhappy villagers. Ranthia, ever foolish, had argued that she could help protect the convoy since there were only three protectors. Her lethality might have been quite a bit beneath that of the ex-soldiers, but she was the only [Mage] present and she had improved by leaps and bounds since she had wandered directly into the bandits¡¯ ambush. Then the short one had proposed a training program for her that took advantage of the situation. Neither of the other ex-soldiers really approved of the plan¡ªthough the one that disliked her had quipped that maybe the headache would get eaten¡ªsince it left one protector per wagon, but the short one thought it might distract the predators. And, frankly, he was gleeful to inflict his newest terrible idea training program upon her. And that was how Ranthia found herself sprinting five to seven paces¡ªstrictly enforced¡ªbehind the short ex-soldier while they held a mock full retreat against an imaginary force. The ex-soldier called out directions which represented attacks that she had to parry or evade while she counterattacked, without falling out of the five to seven paces of range with her mentor. Worse, she had to keep a close eye on him all the while. At first his own movements with his dual short swords mirrored his orders, but soon after he had started varying things up. It was difficult to respond to his words and ignore his own attacks on fictional foes, though it made sense. If they were actually pursued by a real force, it was beyond unlikely that their foes would be polite enough to come in even waves against both of them. It was still distracting when she had no other visual references to rely on. Part of the exercise was to keep close attention focused on their surroundings. Ranthia had [Boosted Reflexes], while the soldier had a skill named [Zeal of the Legion] that similarly boosted his situational awareness. ¡­Of course she had memorized the skill name after hearing it once, while Ranthia had heard the soldier¡¯s name multiple times and couldn¡¯t tell you a single sound that was found within it. ¡°Q-Four!¡± The ex-soldier shouted in a completely different, more urgent tone of voice. Ranthia had begun to turn before [Boosted Reflexes] finally recognized the danger. One of the large, hungry felines had begun to emerge from the jungle, its gaze fixed directly on her. Immediately, as planned, Ranthia triggered [Homunculus of Light] and sent the glowing thing directly into the path of the Saber-tooth tiger. The soldier blurred past her¡ªhis speed beyond what her vitality could follow¡ªbut the tiger aborted its charge and fled back into the jungle with a snarl. In theory, those moments were the ones that Ranthia was in the most danger. She was small and, by conventional wisdom, vulnerable. She had low vitality¡ªwhich the damned beasts seemed to somehow sense¡ªand was basically the perfect prey as far as they were concerned. Ranthia had talked a big game when the danger was more hypothetical than real, but she had come to understand that her best outcome if one of those things reached her was to make it suffer before she died. They were insanely fast and stealthy enough that [Boosted Reflexes] was almost worse than her own eyes. The big beasts seemed resistant to the skill, somehow. When her protector¡ªas much as she hated to admit that he was her only lifeline¡ªwas out of position, all she could do was activate [Light Haze] and watch her mana pour out like she had turned into a leaky bucket while she and her surroundings were mildly distorted as her spell twisted the light around her a bit. It was less than a Mirage classer could do, but it might, maybe, make a lunge from one of the murdercats miss. If she was lucky. Very, very lucky. Fortunately, this time her protector was back in place swiftly, since the Saber-tooth tiger had retreated. She was able to drop [Light Haze] immediately. ¡°Ready to concede and return to the wagon yet?¡± The soldier asked casually, as if he wasn¡¯t aware that a hungry feline still stalked his student. ¡°No!¡± Ranthia snapped stubbornly, ¡°¡­Though I might only have the mana for one or two repetitions of that.¡± The combat sprint and vigilance required were solid training¡ªnot that she was going to admit that out loud, it¡¯d just make the man insufferable¡ªand she hated to give it up. But she also wasn¡¯t quite stubborn enough that it made her stupid. The risk of death aside, it was kind of¡­ fun? They had emerged from the most dangerous portion of the road, but the journey wasn¡¯t done. Ranthia¡¯s feud with her mother had another side effect she hadn¡¯t expected: group social dynamics. Even before they had left the bandit camp, the baker¡ªand soon after, his sons¡ªtreated Ranthia with obvious iciness as part of the man¡¯s transparent efforts to get closer to her mother. Hexara¡ªand, at first, the younger girl that Ranthia had saved¡ªspearheaded the opposing faction and were eager to sing their praises for the prickly 8-year-old and tried to engage with her when she wasn¡¯t training. But things had shifted. People gradually started to congeal around Ranthia¡¯s mother and the baker, slowly enough that Ranthia hadn¡¯t even noticed. By the time that the tavern wench and the awkward teen with a toddler had finally joined them, likely while everyone was clumped together in the wagons, it was impossible to miss the schism that had been created. The anti-Ranthia group often congregated together, either in clumps or as a unified whole, and held whispered conversations while they glared at Ranthia periodically. The many and frequent glares were what finally clued her in to the twist in the social dynamics. Even the mother of the little girl that Ranthia had saved from the snake had joined the group. While the girl who Ranthia had saved just looked guilty and awkward, her mother and her younger sister¡ªthe one that had once been so grateful¡ªwere among those that peppered Ranthia with glares. Hexara was the last person among those that had left Perinthus that Ranthia could even trust. She clearly had lost some social dynamics power play without ever even noticing the danger until it was far, far too late. Yet, she wasn¡¯t sure if she cared. Instead, Ranthia responded by redoubling her training¡ªboth physical and magical¡ªwhile she made sure that she slept near one of the friendly ex-soldiers. It was all too easy for her to imagine her former mother convincing someone to make an attempt on her life while she rested. The two friendly ex-soldiers outwardly pretended to not notice, but Ranthia¡¯s instincts said that they had increased their own vigilance of the group. They might not have known the details, but they clearly could tell something was amiss. They were good men. ¡°What do you mean you can¡¯t open the gates?!¡± The pregnant woman demanded. ¡°That¡¯s the rule. The sun set quite some time ago.¡± A bored and disinterested guard answered, from the other side of the gate. ¡°We were in view before you closed the gates!¡± The same woman snapped. ¡°Yup.¡± The guard agreed. ¡°You could have waited!¡± ¡°Nope.¡± Most of the rest of the group had accepted the inevitable and begun to set up for a final night of camping. The town guards responsible for the night shift were obviously the sort that cared more for the letter of a rule than they did for people. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. But the pregnant woman seemed to consider it an insult too far. She was within reach of a bath and clean clothing, and she refused to accept any further delays! Which Ranthia grudgingly had to agree with. Between her training and the scant sources to renew their stores of fresh water on that leg of the journey, she was all too aware of her own aroma and the almost scandalously tattered state of her tunic. Not that she expected to be able to remedy either problem¡ªor her painful sandals¡ªif she entered the town. Even if the bandits hadn¡¯t taken every coin and valuable they owned, Ranthia hadn¡¯t exactly possessed her own funds. Most baths, even the public ones, required coins to enter, at least from her limited experience with Perinthus. There was a reason she usually cleansed herself with a bucket and a rough rag before they left home. Ranthia shrugged it off, it was a problem for the morning. She just settled in as near to one of the soldiers as anyone dared with the unique and pungent aromas each of them possessed and tried to sleep, serenaded by the ongoing argument between the pregnant woman and the town guard. Bright and early, the group amassed while they waited for the guards to oh-so-slowly open the gates, as if they were thrice their size and far heavier than the thin wood they were made from. At last, the gates opened, and the group poured inside before they immediately scattered to the winds. Ranthia blinked. It felt almost rehearsed. One moment they were clustered together, the next everyone had gone in a variety of different directions with vague plans to meet again around noon. Ranthia just shrugged and wandered off herself. She didn¡¯t have any coin¡ªnone of them did, except the ex-soldiers¡ªbut she was resourceful and observant. The first bit of the morning was spent with her eyes to the ground as she wandered the small town. It was smaller than Perinthus and was the sort of town that tended to only exist because it was where multiple roads converged. The town subsisted entirely on travelers that wanted a place to find food, rest, and cleanliness. Most of those that Ranthia saw were travelers like they were, with the town¡¯s population making up the minority of those out and about. This was a good thing; it meant the local population of thieves and beggar children were basically nonexistent. Which was the only reason why Ranthia managed to locate enough dropped and lost coins across the morning to afford the local bathhouse. Bathhouses seemed to be a major fixture of Remus that did brisk business. Ranthia paid the¡ªmercifully minimal¡ªfee for use and eagerly shucked her filthy tunic in the changing area. ¡­Except she would have to put it back on after she was clean, she realized just before she entered the women¡¯s bathing area. Ranthia hesitated briefly, before she balled it up and brought it with her. First, she scrubbed herself aggressively, trying to remove most of a season¡¯s worth of filth all at once. Her hair had gotten longer, since her mother wasn¡¯t around to cut it. That was a problem for later though, for the moment it too needed to be scrubbed clean. Her tunic was last up for scrubbing, then she wrung as much water out of it as she could and walked back into the changing room to hang it from a corner. She wasn¡¯t too worried about a cheap child¡¯s tunic that was tattered and stained almost beyond recognition being stolen. She left it to dry while she returned to the baths proper to indulge in the real draw: the bath itself. She had been focused on scrubbing before, but she was finally ready to just soak and relax. The bath was a massive pool of water kept so heated that the area became steamy and mystical. The steam was thick enough to give the illusion of privacy while Ranthia soaked and allowed her sore muscles and sorer feet to rest and recuperate. She was hungry, but after so long, food was a want and cleanliness was a need. Ranthia, clean and garbed once again in her still-damp tunic and ill-fitting sandals, wandered around until she located the gathering place for their meeting. It was only the villagers that slowly ambled into the empty space that the town had walled off for future expansion, the ex-soldiers¡¯ roles were done. The men had gotten them this far, and now it was up to them to find their own way forward, ideally alongside other travelers. At last, the final stragglers arrived¡ªthe pregnant woman with many daughters¡ªand the meeting got underway. The baker took lead, as usual, in the woodsman¡¯s absence and Ranthia was grudgingly impressed with how much he had accomplished during the morning. ¡­Though she was less impressed with how the man kept looking to the woman that used to be her mother, since it seemed that he was checking to see if she appreciated how impressive he was. The man had started to court Ranthia¡¯s former mother almost as soon as the horrible woman cut ties with her. It was disgusting on every level. He had arranged for them to join up with a merchant convoy that was leaving in five days, one that was bound, ultimately, for the capital, though it planned to stop in a number of towns along the way. In a surprise twist, one of the former soldiers¡ªthe unfriendly one, naturally¡ªhad signed on with the convoy as a sword for hire. Somehow, he had already traded down his contraband Legion-issued equipment for a mismatched set more proper for Adventurers. There was no mention of the other two former soldiers, though presumably as previously planned they were still trying to become Adventurers, especially since the plan was supposed to be for the ex-soldiers to avoid the capital or other regions where they were likely to encounter Legion soldiers or anyone that knew them. Ranthia had started to consider her own plans, sort of. It was more of a whim, honestly, but she had grown fond of the two friendly soldiers. Plus, she was less than assured of her own safety if she continued to accompany the other villagers. Sure, some of the merchant convoy might be decent, but they also just as easily might not be. Still, she needed to speak to the former soldiers privately first, but she hoped that they would allow¡ª Ranthia¡¯s introspection was abruptly shattered. ¡°Also, as a group we have discussed it; and Ranthia is not welcome to accompany us.¡± The baker concluded, as if this were some minor point, one not worth discussing. Hexara made a cute little noise of pure outrage, as only someone midway through their teenage years could. But Ranthia¡¯s other usual supporter, the daughter of the woman that sat beside Ranthia¡¯s mother, only looked sad and, perhaps, a little guilty. No one else seemed remotely bothered, a few nodded. Then there was Ranthia¡¯s former mother, the hateful woman had a vicious grin plastered on her face as she watched her former daughter. The damned bitch wanted to see Ranthia break! Ranthia just blinked and tried to process the sudden revelation. ¡­She supposed that she should have felt angry at being abandoned by the only family she had, but¡­ In truth she felt utterly relieved. It was for the best if she parted ways with those that expected her to be a normal girlish child. This promised to make her life easier. She knew that she would never be what they wanted, and once they departed, she¡¯d never have to pretend. She was finally her own woman, and she had all the foundation that she needed to make it work. It was almost what she had just been considering too. ¡°That¡¯s fine, I hope your journey is a safe one.¡± She replied to the baker with a smile, after all too long of a delay when everyone was waiting for her to react. Ranthia intentionally avoided looking at her mother and excused herself since her role in the meeting was done. Ranthia walked away, intending to wander through town and revel in her newfound freedom. That was the intent, at least. Her eyes grew damp, and her smile faded no matter how she fought to keep it plastered on. She was truly relieved to be free! She shouted the thought inside her head over and over with ever increasing frustration with herself, even as her tears fell and her tiny heart broke. The world wasn¡¯t even kind enough to give her any rain to mask her tears this time around. Ranthia finally mastered her tears¡ªfor the most part¡ªand remained in blissful ignorance about just how puffy her eyes and tearstained cheeks were. It was closer to dinner time than lunch time, not that Ranthia had eaten since the prior evening. Ranthia had even managed to ask around, using rough descriptions, and learned from a merchant that ran a street stall with knives¡ªfar inferior to her own¡ªthat the two friendly ex-soldiers were last seen entering the local Adventurer¡¯s Guild and hadn¡¯t yet emerged. The man was visibly uncomfortable to interact with her, for whatever reason, but she thanked him all the same for the information. In that semi-recovered state, she planned her clever ambush of the friendly men¡ªby lurking near the entrance to the local Adventurer¡¯s Guild while she waited for them to finish inside¡ªwhile she planned her speech in her head about why she had value and would be useful to them as Adventurers. Her [Mage] powers weren¡¯t impressive yet, but she¡¯d give them the full details of her build. They¡¯d be impressed, she just knew it, and until then she could help with campsites and her current skills were already applicable. The instant the men emerged, Ranthia hopped forward, mouth open and ready to give her grand speech. ¡°There you are! We were worried that you might have left town or something! I know this isn¡¯t much, but would you be willing to come with us instead? There¡¯s no way we can leave you alone, not after those pieces of shi¡ªahem, those rude people abandoned you.¡± The taller man spoke up before Ranthia had even managed to get a single sound out. ¡­So much for her speech, she supposed, but her smile finally turned genuine. She was truly relieved that they were willing to tolerate her. Her speech was mostly intended as bluster, in truth she knew that she was still unable to even quite pull her own weight, let alone be invaluable to the ex-soldiers. Realistically, the two men either gambled hard on her potential growth¡­ or they were just genuinely decent people. Either possibility was fine with her. Of course, she utterly failed to even consider the risk that the men might have possessed less than altruistic intentions. She was entirely too distracted by trying to wrangle the too-large emotions that broiled within her. While they talked, Ranthia learned that the third soldier (who wasn¡¯t quite a friend of theirs, it seemed) had a lover in the capital and had decided that he was willing to take the risk so he could be with the man again. Not that the man had possessed the decency to tell his fellows ahead of time; he kept his plans quiet until he had paved his way to return to his man. The two nice soldiers that Ranthia was sticking with still made use of the guy¡¯s contact to trade in the bulk of their Legion-issued equipment, though they grumbled good naturedly¡ªmore or less¡ªabout how he got to pick all of the best stuff. Not that Ranthia had a high opinion of any of the pieces on offer, but unfortunately it was difficult to trade in illegal goods for their true value. Worse, the shady merchant didn¡¯t even have anything that would properly fit her! The tall soldier bought and traded for a variety of weaponry to go with his bulky, heavy iron armor¡ªsteel was outside of what they could afford¡ªalong with the large shield that absorbed most of his share of the funds. He was an Earth and Metal aspected dual classed [Warrior] that had class skills that made him roughly equally proficient with any weapon he wielded, though he was best suited for the traditional front-line [Warrior] role. The short soldier, the one that had taken lead on her training, grudgingly traded his Legion-issued gladii for a pair of short swords that were plainly of worse quality, with a pair of knives as backup weapons. The man considered himself merely decent at knives, which frustrated Ranthia since she hoped to become at least half as ¡®decent¡¯ as he considered himself. He went with the lightest leather armor that still fit him, which made sense for a Wind and Wood aspected dual classed [Warrior]. His build was that of a speedster, someone that could close in and devastate an opponent rapidly, which made similar builds notorious [Mage] killers. Spells didn¡¯t do much if you had a sword in you before you could cast. Ranthia ended up with a new tunic¡ªsourced from a different local shop¡ªand found herself wrapped in a thick dinosaur hide that she wore like a cloak. It was the closest thing to armor that anyone made for a child, which¡­ grudgingly probably spoke favorably of Remus¡¯ society. Herself aside, children probably shouldn¡¯t be fighting. Ranthia hated to do it, but she knew it was an absolute requirement. She had asked the men to help her finally learn their names. Despite her sincere efforts, multiple awkward requests for reminders, and frankly impressive patience from the men, it still took days for them to sink in. Tatius, the tall ex-soldier, was to pretend to be her father, because they superficially resembled one another (in that they both had brown hair and brown eyes, even if Ranthia¡¯s were darker in both cases). Pupius, the short one, was an old friend and teammate for their little Adventurer group. She was free to call him Uncle, but she didn¡¯t; that just felt too weird when the man was her trainer in the art of combat. Ranthia was, sort of, registered to their party. The local Adventurer¡¯s Guildmaster refused to allow an 8-year-old to register as an Adventurer, but he finally deigned to allow her to be recorded as an ¡®unofficial¡¯ member of their party so that she would be able to report on their party¡¯s achievements¡ªor, as the man clearly considered to be the more likely outcome, the deaths of the men¡ªin their absence. None of them had liked it, but they weren¡¯t likely to change the obstinate man¡¯s mind. So, they left it there and promised Ranthia that they could try other Guildmasters in other cities and towns. Remus was larger than she had initially expected, it seemed. The night before everyone that she had left Perinthus with were to report, Ranthia privately visited Hexara outside the inn that the villagers had¡ªsomehow¡ªsecured rooms in. There was no privacy in the room itself, but Hexara spotted her out the shutters and exited the inn to meet with her. ¡°Well, guess this is goodbye.¡± Ranthia offered awkwardly when the teenager arrived. In her head, she had planned a whole thing, thanking Hexara for believing in her and for supporting her. It had meant a lot, and she knew that the teenager had suffered socially with the group for her continued support. Instead, Ranthia found herself awkward and unsure of what to say once she was face-to-face with the teenager. Hexara hugged her suddenly. ¡°Just promise me you¡¯ll look me up in the capital someday, okay? I wish there was more I could do for you, I guess I¡¯ll just have to hope those two men are as good as you claim.¡± The teenager insisted. ¡°Sure.¡± Ranthia replied. Not that she ever expected to go to the capital. It was the one city their Adventurer¡¯s group couldn¡¯t safely visit, after all. Hexara, once again, kept Ranthia out late while she spouted out her plans and hopes for the future to the girl. One last time spent indulging the slightly older girl wasn¡¯t too bad, Ranthia decided. From an out of the way location, Ranthia quietly watched the departure of the people that she had known for, effectively, almost her entire life. Ranthia never bothered to seek out her mother, and the woman had clearly never tried to see her daughter one last time either. She knew the bond between them was destroyed, but she was also still surprisingly bitter about it. Perhaps with time¡­ ¡­well, she wasn¡¯t even sure what she wanted though. Perhaps she merely hoped that the pain and bitterness would fade eventually. Maybe she hoped her mother would come to her senses someday and they would be able to try again. Or maybe she hoped to find the courage to tell her mother the truth someday. The woman had been right, in a way, even if her own reasoning was beyond redemption. But, at that moment, how Ranthia truly felt deep down was unimportant. Instead, she simply watched until the large merchant convoy was out of sight, then returned to the two former soldiers (turned bandits, turned Adventurers). They were the closest thing she had to family anymore, and that had to be enough. Besides, their first job as Adventurers awaited. Book 1 - Chapter 7 - Becoming an Adventurer Jobs to cull dinosaurs and other predators, Tatius had explained, could be broadly broken down into two categories. Either people tried to push into territory they shouldn¡¯t have or something discovered easy access to convenient food and decided to stay. Which made sense, predators tended to establish a territory and the only times that they were brought into conflict with people were when people entered their territory or when they were forced to find a new territory and discovered something easier to eat. These were the most common Adventurer jobs on offer, at least once you filtered out the surprising breadth of jobs that seemed to mistake Adventurers for (often underpaid) handymen sought for various odd jobs. Escort missions were the next most common job, though they tended to require an Adventurer to be lucky enough to be present when the service was sought. Manhunts followed after that, those that the authority figures of Remus¡ªor sometimes the aggrieved parties and/or their kin¡ªhad posted bounties on because someone had escaped conventional justice; these were almost always classers. Beyond that, there was always a job or three that defied the other classifications. Tatius had taken a job to eliminate a predator that harassed a farm on the outskirts of a smaller town in a direction different from the one taken by the villagers. Thank Xaoc for towns that were on a convergence of roads, where there were more options than just ¡®forward¡¯ or ¡®backward¡¯. Not all towns had an Adventurer¡¯s Guild; there were many villages and small towns in Remus that were too small to warrant a permanent presence. When they needed assistance, they sent word¡ªoften with an existing traveler¡ªto the nearest town that actually warranted a Guild. That was what happened here, so the trio had to travel a few days to reach the small town that the farm bordered. The next step involved meeting with the farmer that requested the job, which went smoothly enough, though the man seemed to stare at Ranthia nonstop, which creeped her out. He seemed to be sufficiently glad that Adventurers had arrived and gave them more details. Just as the job stated, it was a Deinonychus, a relatively small predatory dinosaur that ¡®only¡¯ came up to a grown man¡¯s chest, and the farmer insisted he had [Identify]¡¯d it himself to confirm the species. The color had been ¡°a light red,¡± which could have been anywhere from roughly level 50 to level 200, depending on the man¡¯s personal biases. Not that he had any helpful information to narrow it down further. Supposedly the thing had a taste for his chickens, and he was nearly out of surviving birds. Quite reasonably, the man didn¡¯t want to learn what happened when he ran out of chickens. No, where everything went wrong was shortly after they found the dinosaur¡¯s nesting grounds and engaged it. ¡°Don¡¯t kill it!¡± Tatius had shouted moments before Pupius could drive his sword into the beast. Pupius swore and pivoted off. The dinosaur spooked and ran. Straight at Ranthia, naturally. [*ding!* [Dodging] has reached level 40!] Ranthia sprang out of the way, though the dinosaur¡¯s head followed her and tried to take a bite out of her while she got clear. This forced her to dodge a second time¡ªno level that time¡ªwhich prevented her from counter-attacking. ¡°Why?!¡± Ranthia and Pupius roared in unison. ¡°Trust me, I know what I¡¯m doing, herd it towards me!¡± Tatius called back while he switched out to his big shield and spear. ¡°Kid, be ready with your light show!¡± Pupius ordered out before he zipped off after the dinosaur. He was faster than the dinosaur, though they were nearly out of sight by the time he caught up to it and got in front of it. A few strikes with the flat of his sword convinced the beast to turn and, soon enough, he had it redirected back towards them. Ranthia relaxed her legs, just as she had been taught, and kept herself ready to move while she watched it. This time the dinosaur didn¡¯t go for her, but when it tried to turn away, she was ready. [Homunculus of Light] sent an imposing figure of glowing light a bit further into its path and the dinosaur pivoted back, angling for the space between Ranthia and Tatius. Ranthia struck out when it passed her, but her knife only claimed a few feathers off its flank. She was still too slow! Tatius, on the other hand, thrust his spear perfectly. The weapon pierced straight through the dinosaur¡¯s leg. The beast stumbled. And, inexplicably, Tatius suddenly leapt on top of it, shield-first. ¡°What on Pallos are you doing?!¡± Ranthia called out. She wanted to get closer, but the dinosaur was flailing with everything it had, even as Tatius wrestled to pin it beneath his shield. Pupius came into range just in time to hear the loud, coin purse-wounding sound of Tatius¡¯ spear snapping like a twig beneath their combined weights. ¡°Let her kill it! If she¡¯s going to accompany us, she needs to learn how to face death!¡± Tatius called out. ¡°We could have done this smarter! Spears don¡¯t grow on trees, you know!¡± Pupius snapped back. Ranthia rolled her eyes. Spears were mostly wood, so Pupius was pretty much dead wrong; especially since the spearhead was probably fine. It was still going to cost them though, and this job wasn¡¯t exactly going to provide significant wealth. While the men argued, Ranthia carefully approached and, before either man could try to micromanage, she lashed out with her right knife. [Combat] and her own¡ªadmittedly patchwork¡ªgrasp of anatomy agreed where to cut with her knife to apply the ideal fatal injury. A major blood passage and its air passage would both suffer major damage, and given the amount of blood that flowed from the wound she had been right. Ranthia stepped back and watched while the dinosaur slowed. ¡°You do realize I¡¯ve killed before? Got a rat and a snake, both of which out-leveled me. At least at the time.¡± Ranthia deadpanned while the men gawked at her. It was still a bit surprising that she already was at a higher level than the snake had been, albeit only slightly; she had just dinged level 41 during their journey to the farm. The near disaster that was the snake felt like both something that had just recently happened and like a lifetime ago. She wasn¡¯t the same little girl anymore. And she would never be again. [*ding!* Your group has slain a [Deinonychus] (Wood, level 106)!] Tatius miserably examined his new spear shaft. None of them were going to pretend it was anything except a broom handle that the local blacksmith had removed and stuck the recovered spear tip onto. And yet it still cost them over half what the job would, eventually, pay once they turned it in to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. ¡°I hate small towns.¡± Tatius grumbled. Pupius just chuckled and took another sip of his beer, while they relaxed around the table outside of the little tavern that served the town. The day was pleasant, the air was refreshingly crisp, and the subtle scent of smoke in the air felt homey. ¡°I really should have ordered something else.¡± Ranthia grumbled. Ever since she had entered the care of the two men, meals were thrice a day. It still felt sort of hopelessly indulgent, though Ranthia had quickly discovered that she could be a picky eater when she wasn¡¯t always starving. ¡°I¡¯ll bite, what¡¯s wrong with the beef stew?¡± Pupius asked after he finished rolling his eyes. ¡°None of the local farms keep cattle, and given the taste? It¡¯s definitely not beef.¡± Ranthia groused. ¡°Ah. ¡­Ew.¡± Pupius nodded his agreement, once he reached the same conclusion that Ranthia had. ¡°I really hate small towns.¡± Tatius chimed in. Neither of them disagreed. Ranthia rolled her eyes while Tatius insisted on brushing some of the tangles out of her hair. It had gotten long, again. Not that the man seemed to have any idea how to brush something other than a horse. ¡°I told you, I¡¯m fine.¡± Ranthia snapped after she gritted her teeth through another painful tug of her hair. ¡°You might be an Adventurer, but you¡¯re still a girl. Taking care of your appearance is important.¡± Tatius replied. She didn¡¯t entirely disagree. She had taken [Cute] for similar reasons, even if the skill was all too often neglected. But when she wasn¡¯t in a town, she didn¡¯t care. There was nobody in the wilderness that she needed to impress. And she fully intended to hack her hair back short with her knives as soon as Tatius fell asleep. ¡°Stop trying to hit me and hit me!¡± Pupius challenged cockily, while he twisted and evaded around Ranthia¡¯s slashes. She ¡®passed¡¯ if she forced him to parry, which he was better at than he was at dodging, or actually landed a blow. Not that she had delusions of success. Especially since she was also expected to, somehow, pay full attention to Tatius¡¯ ongoing lecture. ¡°I haven¡¯t been one for long, but do you want to know what ruins the lives of most Adventurers?¡± Tatius called over. Ranthia cursed aloud while she narrowly dodged a lazy slash from one of the sticks Pupius was wielding. ¡°Nope, try again.¡± Tatius called back, almost managing to suppress the amusement that threatened to sneak into his voice. ¡°Classers?¡± Ranthia speculated while she failed utterly at connecting a blow on Pupius. ¡°Not quite. Injuries. Healers are damn¡ªvery expensive. Every low-ranked Adventurer is a single major injury away from getting killed or getting crippled. If you get crippled, the best-case scenario is you end up so deep in debt that you have no choice but to sell yourself into slavery.¡± Tatius lectured. It made sense. Adventurers made quite a bit of money; even a modest job tended to pay what a [Laborer] might earn in weeks. But with commensurate reward came grave risk. Often literally. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°The high-ranked Adventurers¡ªthe A-ranked ones¡ªaren¡¯t necessarily the ones with the sharpest swords or the strongest classes, they¡¯re the smart ones. Every [Warrior], or [Mage], excels at countering certain threats while others are more dangerous to you. Learning what you can counter, where you can punch up, is as important as anything else.¡± Tatius continued. Ranthia ducked another halfhearted swing from Pupius. ¡°In your case, that means opponents that you can defeat by missing every swing.¡± The shorter man teased. ¡°Oh hush!¡± Ranthia snapped while she whiffed, yet again. ¡°And Tats, why do you keep trying to censor your cursing? The brat¡¯s got a fouler mouth than either of us.¡± Pupius added in the same tone. ¡°Shut up.¡± Tatius replied coldly. Ranthia¡¯s own response¡­ well, it probably proved him right, but in her defense, she was getting very frustrated. Tatius just continued to lecture on the value of matching talent to threats while Ranthia struggled¡ªin vain¡ªto finally force Pupius to take their sparring match seriously. Not that she managed. Another day, another town. Honestly, Ranthia loved the travel. Most people within Remus never left the walls of their hometown, which seemed like a shame. It was how you got people as delusional as the other refugees from Perinthus that had no concept of the danger that outclassed their paltry levels so severely. But it also meant that they had no grasp of the splendor that Xaoc and the other great gods had created. Even within Remus, there were changes. Jungles, forests, bamboo thickets, and more. There were rocky mountainous areas, the Nostrum Sea at the heart of the Republic, and the Ocean to the north. And almost every day Ranthia got to discover a new facet of her slice of the world. They had just concluded a job to find a missing child that was¡ªmiraculously¡ªstill alive, living off of mercifully edible mushrooms he had found in the woods. The kid had been reunited with his aunts, who had been all too happy to declare them heroes to the town. ¡­Well, Tatius and Pupius were declared heroes. Ranthia was just ¡®the tagalong,¡¯ despite her daily efforts to hone herself. It grated, but she knew that her efforts would be rewarded with time. She trained her body, her mind, and¡ªwhen she wasn¡¯t trapped in a town¡ªher magic. Most towns took a dim view of classers practicing magic openly, even if it was technically mostly harmless. Remus feared those with combat potential. [Warriors], [Mages], and [Rangers] were treated with suspicion unless they had the badge of the Remus Eagle pinned to their chest¡ªlike Rangers or the alleged expert Rangers, the Sentinels¡ªor were a familiar face garbed in the drab equipment of the guard. Tatius and Pupius had used their newfound reputation to secure the attentions of a couple of the small town¡¯s unattached (or perhaps under-attached, since Ranthia was fairly certain Pupius¡¯ paramour of the moment was married) women. Ranthia didn¡¯t begrudge the men their gratification, though it still skeeved her out on some level and she wanted nothing to do with the merest proximity to it. When they kissed prospective temporary partners, it didn¡¯t bother her, but much past that¡­ Well, she was all too happy to take a few coins from the men and occupy herself. As per usual when it happened, Ranthia bought food from a stall¡ªsmoked fish in this case¡ªand slipped into a quiet alley where the local wild cats liked to linger. Nothing was better than to take a moment to yourself and relax among purring friends whose company you bribed your way into. There was always at least one that would let her pet it while she shared her bounty of cheap fish. Once the food was done, they usually tolerated her presence while she leisurely sunned herself, prayed, or just plotted. The small moments were just as important in life as the large. ¡°We¡¯re not taking a manhunt quest.¡± Tatius repeated, his face and demeanor stony. ¡°We¡¯re low on funds and the kid needs new sandals, again. This pays nearly five times as much as any other job available.¡± Pupius argued, his voice calm. It seemed perfectly civil, so long as you didn¡¯t look at their faces. The men glared at one another while they argued. Ranthia had learned her lesson. If she chimed in that she didn¡¯t mind taking human lives¡ªat least not when they were scum like that¡ªPupius would immediately swing into siding with Tatius. And then both of them would try to make her feel like she shouldn¡¯t have wanted to go after other people. Instead, she ignored them and skimmed the monster extermination jobs. When Pupius ultimately gave up, she had a narrow window where they would just go with whatever fallback option she suggested. It was a marvelous opportunity to guide their journey through Remus. ¡°Mid-sized! The job said it was a mid-sized dinosaur!¡± ¡°I mean, dinosaurs do get bigger than a Rugops¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you dare start with that, Ranthia! Something larger than all of us combined is not mid-sized!¡± Lesson learned¡ªTatius handled dangerous surprises poorly. Ranthia was more focused on Pupius though; he was leading the beast away, but she was worried about whether he¡¯d be oka¡ª [*ding!* Your allies have slain a [Rugops] (Earth, level 183)!] Pupius returned with the broadest of grins, no worse for wear. One of Ranthia¡¯s hobbies was to visit the temple(s) in every town they spent even a single night within. The temples were a fascinating look into the culture of a city. Some were robust buildings that were works of art, others were small and humble. In one case, the temple had simply been a building that looked like any of the homes in the village, with a single altar with the symbol of the five gods engraved upon it, and a small table¡ªan actual simple little table¡ªthat served as the altar for other deities. The temples were important to Remus. They handled saved money so no one had to carry the sum of their wealth in their bags everywhere they went. Prayers to the gods or, occasionally, to the Guardian Etalix were a common part of Reman society. Priests and priestesses spoke to those that endured grief. Religious services handled numerous local celebrations and events too. The temples were the backbone of most cities. And yet they subtly differed everywhere she went. Ranthia could pray to Xaoc anywhere, but she had made a habit of reporting on her jobs and journeys at the temples as well, as if she hadn¡¯t spoken to Xaoc practically every day of said jobs and journeys. It seemed important, and so she did it. ¡°This is one of the herbs we¡¯re supposed to be gathering.¡± Tatius explained while he held up the plant. ¡°¡­That¡¯s one of the weeds that the alchemist showed us and asked us to not mix up with the herb.¡± Ranthia replied with a smirk. ¡°She¡¯s right, you know, it has those same grey bits near the stem instead of the black bark. This is silphium.¡± Pupius chimed in, holding up his own harvested plant. Tatius just sighed and tossed his weed aside. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be having a birthday sometime soon, Ranthia?¡± He grumbled in an incredibly transparent attempt to shift the topic off his obvious mistake. ¡°Yeah, like a season or so ago.¡± Ranthia replied glibly. ¡°What?!¡± Both men snapped. This was followed up with demands about why she hadn¡¯t said anything and threats of parties. ¡°It was when we were doing that job that had us traipsing through the woods trying to find any sign of the ¡®mysterious singing woman¡¯ back in late spring! I didn¡¯t even notice until we finally gave up and left, and at that point none of us were in the mood to celebrate!¡± Ranthia waved the men off. Jobs that resulted in a report of ¡°no incident¡± still paid, but they paid a tiny pittance compared to the payment that was posted on the job for a successful completion. None of them enjoyed burning so many supplies and so much effort for less than the cost of a hot meal for each of them. They were sweet, but she really didn¡¯t need to celebrate turning 9. She had several more years to get through before she felt like celebrating. ¡°I think my dinosaur hide¡¯s going off.¡± Ranthia finally confessed. They had always wanted to get her proper armor, but every time they got close to having enough spare money banked in the temple something went wrong. Pupius¡¯ sword would break. Tatius¡¯ chestplate would get damaged. Pupius broke his arm badly enough that Tatius and Ranthia browbeat him into seeing a [Healer]. They had to pay for damage to a wagon. Bribes to get them out of trouble with the local guard. That time they had to pay some thieves to smuggle them out of a town, which shockingly wasn¡¯t Ranthia¡¯s fault. Instead, Pupius got caught with the prick of a village elder¡¯s daughter. ¡­The jerk of an elder hadn¡¯t even had time to discover what she had done to his collection of wigs. Ranthia was still wrapped in her increasingly ill-fitting ¡®cloak¡¯ of dinosaur hide that she had acquired the very day that she joined with the men. It provided a modicum of protection, and she had grown to kind of like it. But it wasn¡¯t armor. And Ranthia was growingly increasingly unconvinced that it had been properly treated. The itchiness she had mostly quietly endured for a season had gotten dramatically worse and the odor that emanated from her dinosaur hide ¡®cloak¡¯ had become more pronounced. Pupius had thought she was just getting ¡®old enough to get picky¡¯ and shrugged it off as a girl becoming a woman. His comments¡ªand the lack of trust they implied¡ªhurt and Ranthia had kept her mouth shut for entirely too long. When she tried to scratch her back when they stopped to camp for the night and her hand came away bloody, that had been the final straw. ¡°A treated hide doesn¡¯t go off; you just aren¡¯t doing your maintenance properly.¡± Pupius replied automatically. ¡°I¡¯m not just being sloppy OR picky!¡± Ranthia insisted. ¡°And I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine.¡± Pupius stubbornly replied. ¡°Oh, for the love of Xaoc.¡± Ranthia huffed, before she stood and turned her back on the men. She shucked her tunic while the two desperately turned away. At some point they had gotten profoundly conscientious about nudity of any form that involved her, out of hypothetical concerns that people might assume impropriety in their relationship. Not that anyone had ever seemed to doubt Tatius¡¯ claims of being her father, even as their features further diverged every time that she grew a little more. ¡°Gods and Goddesses, you two, just look. We¡¯re all Adventurers here!¡± Ranthia snapped over her shoulder. It was hesitant and took forever, but Tatius looked first. And his sharp intake of breath made Pupius finally look. ¡­Apparently her skin was in even worse shape than she had thought. In the aftermath, Tatius grabbed the dinosaur hide and¡ªbefore saner minds could stop him¡ªthrew it into the fire. They had to flee their campsite to escape the choking, black smoke that filled the area. The next morning, they arrived in a decent town and Ranthia was immediately dragged to the local apothecary¡ªand even then she had struggled to argue the men down from taking her to a [Healer], which was an absurd overreaction¡ªalmost literally. There Ranthia pretended to be demure and okay with it while she clutched her wadded-up tunic over her chest and tried to ignore how the old man¡¯s eyes continued to wander her still childish body while he examined her back. In the end though, the cream that the man prepared for her was divine. Minor blasphemy aside, the cool cream soothed the omnipresent itchiness immediately and freed her from a season of constant pain and distraction. It was worth every one of the many, many coins it had cost. And it¡¯d still been cheaper than a [Healer] would have been. Ranthia didn¡¯t mind paying a bit of dignity either. ¡°Another cloak of hide, really?¡± Pupius asked. The leatherworker shot the shorter man a glare, but Pupius flagrantly ignored it. ¡°This time it¡¯s proper worked leather.¡± Ranthia defended the man. The man nodded his appreciation before he knelt to loosely hem the leather. Ranthia was still growing, so she wanted something that could grow with her until she learned how tall she was going to become. As much as she wanted proper armor, it couldn¡¯t grow with her. ¡­Plus, there weren¡¯t exactly a bunch of used sets of armor sized for children on sale, and new custom armor was a luxury they were nowhere close to being able to afford. Not even before Ranthia had become infested with biting parasites that needed to be medicated out of existence. She had dumped some of her free stats into vitality to help that process along when she found out there were tiny bugs living inside of her flesh. She was a worldly young woman, and she had long accepted that fleas and mites were kind of an inevitability for people that traipsed through woods and slept on the ground more often than not. But there was a difference between having to dislodge a leech and discovering that you were both food and home to a full-on infestation. That was an insult too far. ¡°We¡¯re just surprised that you¡¯re fine with another cloak.¡± Tatius diplomatically offered. The leatherworker stood and admired his work. The layered hems were even and were loose enough that Ranthia would be able to undo them one by one as she needed more space in the shoulders or chest, or needed more length added. Ranthia was growing in every sense of the word, but she was far from done with the physical aspect of it. The leatherworker had done good work though, especially for how surprisingly cheap the thick leather was. The leatherworker seemed satisfied too, because he excused himself to ready the bill of sale. ¡°Aside from our limited funds, I¡¯ve decided to like them while I grow. Plus, I get to do this!¡± Ranthia finally answered. She then twirled back to face the men and smiled sweetly. With a swift, practiced motion she unsheathed her knives and flicked her arms down so the blades of the knives peeked underneath the leather cloak while her smile twisted from sweet to spicy. ¡°Not gonna lie kid, that¡¯s probably the first legitimately intimidating thing that I¡¯ve seen out of you.¡± Pupius commented after he whistled appreciatively. Tatius just muttered something about terrible influences. Ranthia wholeheartedly disagreed. She thought the two well-meaning men were the best of influences. And her new leather cloak made a great early birthday present, and a great excuse to keep the men from wasting any more precious coin on her upcoming tenth birthday. Book 1 - Chapter 8 - Aquiliea Antics I Tatius and Pupius usually were the ones who interacted with the city guard when they needed to get into a city. That had been the rule ever since Ranthia had discovered the hard way that the guardsmen had no sense of humor (what, mockingly saying Tatius and Pupius were obviously her husbands when the guardsman had challenged her association with them was hilarious and definitely shouldn¡¯t have gotten them detained). Unfortunately, the men were dealing with their all-too-difficult client and Tatius¡¯s leg hadn¡¯t finished healing yet. Thank every god and goddess that it would heal; Ranthia¡¯s heart had felt like it had sunk into her stomach when the wolf bit into his leg. It was her fault that he lost that leg guard earlier in the journey, after all. Tatius had trusted her to lace the leg guards, and she had rushed it! If only she could go back and undo that bad decision¡­ They had been on the road for far too long and it had affected all of their temperaments more than a little. The merchant they were escorting was supposed to be a quick and easy job, just get him from town A to city B. ¡­Except the dense idiot gave them the wrong city name. Somehow this was their fault, of course. Ranthia recommended stabbing him and dumping the body in the woods, which earned her glares from her companions. When the second city turned out to also be incorrect, Ranthia was almost certain that Pupius was going to agree with her suggestion to just murder the idiot and be done with it. Naturally, the man refused to allow them to stay in a city for longer than it took to resupply base essentials. The man complained nonstop about camping, yet when he finally had an opportunity to make use of an inn it was suddenly ¡°a frivolous waste of his precious time.¡± The third attempt seemed to be successful, at least from the noises the merchant had made on approach, but Ranthia was still in quite a foul mood. The merchant was already making noises about refusing to pay them the full rate over the ¡°sheer waste of his valuable time.¡± She really should have killed the asshole. ¡°What¡¯s the purpose of your business in Aquiliea?¡± The guardsman asked. ¡°Adventurers. Escorting a merchant into the city.¡± Ranthia responded tersely. ¡°Are you all registered with the Guild?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± It was¡­ close enough to the truth. Her status with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild as a non-member part of her party was kind of murky, but that was between them and the local Guildmaster. Sooner or later, she hoped to find someone that wouldn¡¯t mind granting full member status to someone as young and female as she was. ¡°Classes?¡± ¡°The client is a [Merchant], my two associates with him are [Warriors], and I¡¯m a [Mage].¡± Ranthia answered frostily. As if the guardsman didn¡¯t have [Identify] and could see the answers for himself. ¡°You¡¯ll need to expunge your mana before I can grant you entry.¡± The guardsman informed her in a dry tone. It was one of the stupider rules Remus had. Most towns had waved her through since she was a child or just had her cast a single spell and assumed a child¡¯s mana was exhausted with that. This was the first time she was faced with the full letter of the rule. Probably because she was level 81 now. Her second class had been unlocked, which once again gave her [Child of Pallos ¨C Water], and she had upgraded it to the somewhat underwhelming [Apprentice Mage ¨C Metal] some time ago. [Apprentice Mage] was ready to class up and between the obnoxious client and her pending class up, Ranthia wanted nothing more than to just be done with everything and safely ensconced in the inn. ¡°This is such an idiotic rule. I¡¯m a Light [Mage], my magic can¡¯t do any real damage.¡± Ranthia tried bitterly. ¡°Expunge your mana if you want to enter the city.¡± The guard repeated dryly. ¡°What¡¯s to stop me from just casting a couple of spells and lying about my mana anyhow?¡± Ranthia challenged. ¡°¡­Are you saying you won¡¯t comply with the rules of the Republic?¡± The guard asked in a disinterested tone, with a single arched eyebrow. ¡°And if I am?¡± Ranthia asked smugly, as she completely misread the man¡¯s tone. His tone wasn¡¯t disinterested, it was all business. Ranthia barely heard Tatius shout before the guardsman hit her with a buff that boosted her vitality¡ªat the rapid cost of her mana¡ªand pinned her down with some skill she had no chance to evade. More buffs were layered on, until her mana was exhausted before she could even put up a fight. There had been more than one guard present, clearly. Tatius and Pupius chose to leave her to get arrested while they accompanied the client to the local Adventurer¡¯s Guild. The guards appreciated their willingness to let her deal with the consequences of her own terrible ideas and she found herself stuffed into a cell¡ªstill bound and drained of her mana¡ªwhile everyone went on their way. It was nearly dark before Tatius finally showed up to claim her. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you left me there all day.¡± Ranthia groused. ¡°And I can¡¯t believe you were stupid enough to mouth off to the guard, again. Just be thankful that they considered it a lesson taught and let you go; I was worried that we¡¯d end up short on funds again.¡± Her pretend father snapped. Tensions still ran high after everything they had been through. ¡°Please tell me we at least got paid.¡± Ranthia finally spoke after she forced herself to just breathe for a few moments before she foolishly managed to escalate their debate into an argument. ¡°Yeah, we did. But nothing extra, just the base amount we were supposed to get paid.¡± Tatius replied bitterly. Ranthia had a thing about selfish prayers. In her mind, she was there to serve Xaoc, not the other way around. Those that made demands of the gods needed to be in a place of absolute desperation before it was even slightly okay to do so, and even then, they needed to have been pious beforehand and to show their gratitude nonstop after the fact. The gods had better things to do than intervene on mortal affairs. Too many people forgot that simple fact. And yet she was still sorely tempted to pray for ill fortune to befall that jerk of a merchant. ¡°He said northern Remus! This city isn¡¯t even close to being in the north! It¡¯s extremely south-eastern!¡± She seethed. That job hadn¡¯t been even remotely close to being worthwhile. They deserved thrice what the job had quoted since it ended up as an escort mission to three different cities due to the man¡¯s own stupidity. Tatius simply nodded miserably in agreement. Ranthia sighed and tried to force the matter out of her mind. As far as the scenery went, well, Aquiliea was a decent enough town, she supposed, though she felt like it was a touch garish. The city was obsessed with the dyes it produced and, clearly, people tended to use them all-too-heavily. Compared to most cities, towns, and villages that she had seen, Aquiliea was comparatively a bit of an eyesore. Horrible, ingrate clients aside, Ranthia was happy with her life. She was well aware that neither Tatius nor Pupius really needed her help with most missions, but she had gradually begun to contribute slightly more where she could. Under their tutelage, she had also developed muscles, or at least a reasonable facsimile of muscles for a ten-year-old child. ¡°You ready to class up, finally?¡± Pupius¡¯ voice snapped Ranthia out of her thoughts. Tatius had matched his pace to her own best efforts at a brisk walk, and they had arrived at the inn where they were staying at. Pupius had spotted them and greeted the duo without a hint of guilt about abandoning her to her fate with the guards. Ranthia presented her middle finger to him before she nodded eagerly. He pretended to fail to notice the insult, so she added the second middle finger to try to get a rise out of him. ¡°Want to grab dinner while we wait for the slowpoke to do her class up?¡± Pupius asked Tatius, completely ignoring her increasingly energetic gestures. ¡°Sure.¡± Tatius replied immediately. Ranthia glared at the two, but they pretended not to notice. ¡°If you two eat without me, I expect a biiig juicy chunk of roasted dino to be waiting for me the instant I wake.¡± She grumbled after she gave up on getting a rise out of them. ¡°Vegetables are important.¡± Tatius retorted. ¡°Rabbit stew then.¡± Ranthia replied sweetly, with a smug grin on her face. Pupius just laughed. He had probably already figured out that she was just maneuvering Tatius into promising to find somewhere that sold her favorite food. It was far from the first time she had pulled similar moves, but Tatius seemed slow to learn how to counter her manipulations. Tatius just cringed in an exaggerated way that she naively mistook for actual surprise and muttered something about looking into if anyone sold it. She had only discovered the dish a little more than a season ago, but it had immediately become her favorite thing to eat. The worst rabbit stew was better than almost any other dish made competently, in her mind. Everything just blended so delightfully on her tongue! Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Ranthia was well-aware that she was taking advantage of Tatius, but¡­ well, for rabbit stew she accepted her ability to be a brat. It was a small price to pay, since otherwise Tatius would have purchased the blandest cheap and healthy thing he saw for her. She had suffered through enough bowls of raw vegetable chunks for two lifetimes. Soon enough Ranthia made herself comfortable on her bed in Tatius¡¯ room. No one made the mistake of classing up in an uncomfortable position more than once. Class ups tended to be quick, but the passage of time in the world within yourself was¡­ difficult to predict. People could lose half a day to accepting the first class they saw immediately, while others have waffled between options for so long their inner guide got annoyed with them, yet they found that they were only out for mere moments. There was no way to predict it, but if you were in an uncomfortable position, that¡¯s when you always ended up getting a class up that took forever. The men tried to ask if she needed anything, but she just waved them off and hurriedly fell into herself. She had waited long enough and wasn¡¯t about to let them delay her until something else came up to force her to put it off any further. ¡°Me again!¡± Ranthia announced on arrival to the temple armory. ¡°Yes, as opposed to all of the numerous other visitors that come by.¡± Her guide deadpanned. ¡°¡­Actually, I have no idea. Do like¡­ Do guides get to hang out with other System bearers in the vicinity when we¡¯re not classing up? Do you cease to exist?¡± ¡°If you were better company, perhaps I would look forward to social interactions when I am finally allowed them.¡± ¡°Ouch! Barbs out the gate, and here I thought we were becoming friends.¡± Ranthia mimed getting shot by an arrow. ¡°You are me. Befriending yourself makes no sense.¡± Her guide replied primly. Ranthia just sighed, her fun ruined. After a moment, she withdrew the sword with the red-wrapped hilt and an amethyst pommel stone and set it down on the counter. ¡°Let¡¯s see what Xaoc and my own efforts have blessed me with.¡± Ranthia announced, her voice quiet and reverent. ¡°Indeed.¡± Her adult self agreed, before the woman retrieved the sword and placed it in the same return basket that all of her former classes ended up in. Though it was always empty every time she returned. Ranthia waited while the guide moved along the racks of swords, mostly red, and more often pale in color than not, even still. There were more colors out there. Class qualities didn¡¯t stop at orange or even yellow. There were shades of green, then blues, then purples, and¡ªultimately¡ªblacks. The knowledge was in her head, though she had no way to hurry the process along. It could be frustrating and dispiriting though to train and try so hard and still have so little to show for it. Colors denoted class qualities, though that was misleading. What it actually designated were the stats available in the class; it was possible to get a class with high quality but poor skills or, indeed, the reverse. But she still wanted to hold a better blade. The yellowest of bright greens would still catapult her physical stats forward. She hated relying so heavily on Tatius and Pupius. She needed to do more. She needed to be able to protect them too. She had to improve, before she got one of them killed. Despite her determined thoughts, her guide finally presented her with a short sword with a pale red wrap. It still had an amethyst on its pommel too, so it wasn¡¯t like she was miraculously getting an advanced element already either. ¡°That¡¯s the best I can get?¡± Ranthia asked in a dour tone. ¡°Try it out before you complain.¡± Her guide replied, her tone of voice dripped with annoyance. Ranthia just swallowed the insult she almost spat at her guide¡ªherself¡ªbefore she accepted the blade and absorbed its story. [Metal Menace ¨C Metal] had a nice ring to it, at least. A smile slowly spread on her face though while she absorbed the story. ¡°You were right.¡± Ranthia finally admitted. ¡°Aren¡¯t I always?¡± Her guide replied frostily. ¡°Probably, but I try not to give myself too much of an ego.¡± Ranthia quipped before she hurriedly tried to sprint out of the armory with her new blade¡ªher new class¡ªbefore her guide could respond. ¡°Then try to be less of a brat too.¡± Too slow. The room was completely dark by the time Ranthia woke up. She wasn¡¯t entirely surprised, but she could still be annoyed. Ranthia applied the free stats the backlog of levels her second class had provided and sat up with a stretch. A bowl of¡ªlong since cold¡ªrabbit stew waited for her. She grumbled to herself irritably about missing it while it was hot, but she still snatched up the wooden bowl and hungrily devoured both it and the now stale crust of bread that came with it. It was cold and greasy, but even a cold and greasy rabbit stew was still better than most other foods. Ranthia reviewed her stat sheet while she ate.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 10]
[Mana: 2240/2240]
[Mana Regen Rate: 2445]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 0]
[Strength: 35]
[Dexterity: 113]
[Vitality: 112]
[Speed: 49]
[Mana: 224]
[Mana Regeneration: 275]
[Magic Power: 244]
[Magic Control: 192]
[Class 1: [Deceptive Decoy Mage ¨C Light (81)]]
[Light Affinity: 81]
[Light Manipulation: 81]
[Light Resistance: 53]
[Spell Reworking: 65]
[Homunculus of Light: 81]
[Light Conjuration: 72]
[Light Haze: 43]
-
[Class 2: [Metal Menace ¨C Metal (54)]]
[Metal Affinity: 54]
[Metal Conjuration: 54]
[Metal Manipulation: 54]
[Metal Decoys: 1]
[Puppeteering: 1]
[False Armaments: 1]
-
-
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 81]
[Combat: 81]
[Knives: 81]
[Dodging: 81]
[Boosted Reflexes: 81]
[Fast Learner: 69]
[Silent Steps: 16]
[Cute: 58]
Ranthia¡¯s face tried to grin while she hurriedly finished her stew¡ªwhich was a recipe for a mess, but fortunately she managed to avoid incident¡ªbefore she grabbed her dinoleather cloak and rushed for the stairs. She was impatient to share her new class with her fellow Adventurers! Her contributions to the teamwork would be greater than ever! Pupius was with a woman in the inn¡¯s common area. She was leaned against a wall and he had his arm braced on the wall while he leaned in and quietly wooed her with¡­ mildly exaggerated stories about some of the adventures they had been through. There had been only two dinosaurs, not six, and none of them had been that large. ¡­Also, hey, Tatius was the one who did that! Usually Ranthia had the decency to let Pupius have his fun¡­ But she was impatient for a team meeting¡ªaka bragging about her new class upgrade¡ªand the woman was married if Ranthia was right about her assumptions about what that piece of jewelry meant. She really wasn¡¯t in the mood to deal with angry spouses¡ªagain¡ªwhen they had barely spent any time in the town. ¡°There you are, Father! Mommy will be upset if she finds out you¡¯ve been doing this again!¡± Ranthia called out as she ran up to him with a worried look plastered on her face. Pupius eyed her with an intense lack of amusement while the woman discreetly shifted away. ¡°Your father was just¡­ helping me with something, but I¡¯ll be going now. So, there¡¯s no need to get your mommy involved, okay honey?¡± Ranthia allowed the woman to pat her on the head before the woman made her escape. Pupius and Ranthia silently eyed one another before he finally threw his hands up in frustration and beckoned for her to follow. ¡­It was probably a bad sign that he wasn¡¯t willing to say anything, but Ranthia wasn¡¯t feeling the least bit apologetic. Behind the inn they found Tatius helping to hold and soothe a horse while a woman¡ªhonestly, far more attractive than the one Pupius had been trying to pick up¡ªcarefully replaced a horseshoe. ¡°Hi Dad! She¡¯s pretty, is she going to be my new Mom?¡± Ranthia called out while she sprinted over the moment they were done. On arrival she threw an arm around his waist and smiled at the woman. The woman¡¯s face had turned scarlet over the question and stammered something before she hurriedly backed away. Tatius cuffed Ranthia on the back of the head¡ªnot entirely gently¡ªwith a roll of his eyes. He apologized to the woman, but the damage was done. The woman seemed inclined to be on her way sooner rather than later. ¡°Since when do you do things like that?¡± Tatius grumbled. ¡°She screwed me over too.¡± Pupius added with a scowl. ¡°Okay, first of all, if you¡¯re both trying to pick up women at the same time, where do you expect me to sleep? Because it¡¯s already late and I am not watching that. Second, the walls in that place are thin, I can hear everything from two rooms away, let alone one. Please save it for when we have more privacy.¡± A brief dramatic pause. ¡°Aaand of course, third, my class up was a success!¡± Ranthia replied smugly, ticking her fingers with each point. The men communicated silently with a set of expressions and looks that Ranthia wasn¡¯t quite able to decipher into meaningful information, before Tatius sighed. ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll find a place with better privacy after we get some work. No one¡¯s around, can you show us what you can do?¡± Tatius prompted. Ranthia checked that the coast was clear for herself before she nodded. [Metal Decoys] plus [False Armaments] created¡­ A vaguely human-ish smooth and round shape that had a simple shield and short sword, a bit less than half her own height. That cost nearly all her mana. She had even made it hollow! ¡°Um¡­ tada?¡± Ranthia was already feeling wildly unimpressed with herself. Pupius knelt down and poked the sword. ¡°Completely dull.¡± He announced. Tatius flicked the shield, which crumpled under the force of the simple little blow. Ranthia just cringed while she watched what she had been so proud of prove to be so worthless. Pupius knocked on the [Metal Decoy] itself, but at least it held up. ¡­From an intentionally gentle tap. ¡°¡­I think her Light decoys managed to impress me more, but at least this is Metal.¡± Pupius tried to whisper to Tatius, but he wasn¡¯t quite quiet enough. Ranthia fought against the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes¡ªshe wasn¡¯t really a child, she angrily reminded herself¡ªbefore she desperately tapped into [Puppeteering] and tried it out. The doll took a clumsy, overly large step forward! ¡­And immediately fell over. Pupius tipped over almost immediately after, while he laughed his ass off. Tatius offered her a tight smile that came off as a terrible blend of sympathy and regret. ¡°They¡¯re new level one skills, you¡¯ll see! I¡¯ll make a great [Metal Menace] someday!¡± Ranthia snapped¡ªfar more shrilly than she had intended¡ªbefore she dismissed the fallen figure and bolted back for the inn. Pupius¡¯ laughter redoubled over her unfortunate phrasing. ¡°¡­She gets the weirdest class names.¡± Tatius groused while he watched her flee in embarrassment. Unfortunately, Tatius also knew that he was going to have to bribe her, again, to get her to let him into his own inn room. Book 1 - Chapter 9 - Aquiliea Antics II Ranthia was feeling much better after some sleep¡ªand more bowls of rabbit stew provided as bribes from Tatius and an apology from Pupius¡ªand the three reported to the local Adventurer¡¯s Guild as soon as they were done with breakfast. The job board was a staple of every Guildhall, always located in the same place, to the right of the entrance. None of them were entirely literate, but Remus tended to rely on simple glyphs and unmistakable visuals. There really didn¡¯t need to be a ton of details on the face of most jobs, especially not when the Adventurer¡¯s Guild employed staff that could provide further recorded information. The basics were usually clear. Usually. ¡°The kid was right, stolen statue. Apparently a marble statue, twice the height of a man.¡± Pupius announced when he returned from checking in about one of the jobs they had seen. ¡°How in Xaoc¡¯s glorious name¡­?¡± Ranthia blinked. She had assumed something much smaller. ¡°No one knows. It was a small town north-east of here. Some eccentric artist that had been cast off by his patron moved there and created it before he killed himself. The town hoped to attract curious travelers with it, but somehow it vanished overnight, along with a merchant convoy that seems to have been operating under a false business name.¡± Pupius answered. ¡°Yeah, pass.¡± Ranthia decided. Investigations work tended to result in a lot of nothing. It was all too probable that some guards in another town caught the guy before they finished following the trail, and then they¡¯d get nothing out of the job. If the guards arrested the guy, they wouldn¡¯t even get the pittance provided by giving the Guild a reason to take the job down. ¡°Oh, I forgot the fun part. Apparently, the statue is of a naked woman. Lovingly detailed by a master [Artisan], they say the details between her legs¡­¡± Pupius trailed off with a grin. ¡°¡­Go on.¡± Ranthia prompted. ¡°Don¡¯t, please don¡¯t twist her mind.¡± Tatius grumbled. ¡°You mean any more than it already is?¡± Pupius asked with a wide grin. ¡°Hey, I have more sense than either of you!¡± Ranthia replied with an angry glare directed at both men. [*ding!* [Cute] has reached level 59!] Ranthia twitched ever so slightly in annoyance. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m actually thinking about staying in town for a while.¡± Tatius announced, likely as an effort to put them back on track. ¡°Wait, really? I thought you were making a joke so you could try to find that hot little number you were talking to last night again.¡± Pupius replied. ¡°No, I just think we¡¯ve been traveling too much lately. We¡¯re not too bad on funds and my leg probably needs a bit more time to heal so I can stop limping. Besides, Ranthia could use a chance to socialize with children her own age.¡± Tatius explained. ¡°That sounds horrific.¡± Ranthia quipped with a grin. Tatius gave her a look. Oh gods, the man was serious. Ranthia blanched. She was supposed to be freed from pretending to be a child since she was an Adventurer! ¡°What are we even going to do here? There¡¯s bound to be a dearth of jobs in the vicinity, this is a pretty big Guild branch.¡± Ranthia hurriedly attempted to guide the conversation away from something that was certain to result in an incident. ¡°Nah, they¡¯re actually down a lot of members from some big escort job.¡± Pupius chimed in. Not helpful! ¡°I¡¯m going to take a few days to rest. There¡¯re several jobs here Pupius can do alone, if he¡¯s in the mood.¡± Tatius explained. Ranthia saw her opportunity and opened her mouth¡ª ¡°In the meantime, I¡¯ve already learned that there¡¯s a park where children gather to play. I¡¯ll drop you off there before I head back to the inn.¡± Tatius clearly wasn¡¯t done. Ranthia cringed and looked desperately to Pupius for help. The man saw her look, considered carefully, then smiled. ¡°Actually, I could use a day or two off myself. Let¡¯s all take a break!¡± He said with entirely too much exaggerated enthusiasm. Ranthia sorely considered drawing her knives and fighting her way out of the situation. Tatius had requested that she hand over her knives. She refused. He tried to demand that she hand over her knives. She refused. He then tried to bribe her into handing over her knives. She still refused. Eventually, the man threw his hands up and just asked her to not cut anyone before he released her into the park. His leg was starting to bother him more, again, so he was more than ready to sit down and sip alcohol while he relaxed. He was willing to trust her, it seemed. She wasn¡¯t entirely certain that she was going to prove herself worthy of that trust. The park was crowded. Children ran amok, squealing and shouting while they played everywhere she looked. There were far too few parents around to possibly sufficiently supervise the crowds of shrieking children. It was terrible. Ranthia weaved around a cluster of 8- to 10-year-olds that were playing soldiers versus formorians¡ªwhich apparently was just a thinly veiled justification to beat each other with sticks¡ªas she meandered deeper into the park. There was a group playing some sort of game that involved a ball they chased around and tried to smack over an old net that stretched across the field. Then there were some smaller kids sitting in a suspicious puddle of mud while they made pretend food out of the mud. Ranthia carefully stepped over a kid that seemed content to lay on his back and stare at the sun, as if that were a perfectly valid thing to do. Children were awful. ¡°Oi, new boy!¡± A voice called out. Oh Xaoc, please let that be something else. ¡°I¡¯m talkin¡¯ to you! The one with the stupid brown blanket wrapped around you!¡± The same boisterous voice shouted a moment later. Ranthia lowered her head and sighed, before she oh-so-slowly turned toward the source of the voice. A big¡ªboth in terms of height and waistline¡ªboy in his early teens stood there, surrounded by several other smaller boys (both by age and sheer size). ¡°Okay, first of all, this is a leather cloak. Second, I¡¯m not a boy. Third, go away.¡± Ranthia spat. ¡°Yeah, whatevs, just follow me. M¡¯ da says I can¡¯t kill wind weasels unless I¡¯ve got a group of at least six. You¡¯re my sixth!¡± The boy declared, before he turned and began to walk away. Ranthia blinked a few times before she shrugged and followed. It got her out of the park, at least. ¡°What do you mean by kill wind weasels?¡± She asked. ¡°New kid¡¯s dumb. Y¡¯kill wind weasels by killing ¡®em, same as anything else!¡± The boy non-answered. Ranthia just eyed the other kids, until one of the shorter boys that was probably older than he looked finally spoke up. ¡°W-wind weasels are a local pest. That¡¯s not their real name, mind you, but no one calls them kamaitachis. The city offers a s-small bounty for their pelts, since it proves you k-killed them. The problem got w-worse a year or t-two ago, since s-someone bred more to abuse the b-bounty.¡± The nervous boy explained. ¡°I¡¯m goingta buy my betrothed something pretty from Bakus!¡± The big teen announced. Ranthia had no idea what most of that meant because she was mentally sent reeling by the fact the boy¡ªhe had to be three years her senior at most¡ªwas engaged and invested enough in it to buy his betrothed gifts! It felt oh so wrong in so many ways. Still¡­ Something the nervous kid said¡­ ¡°Can anyone turn in pelts for the bounties?¡± Ranthia asked sweetly. Ranthia was all smiles by the time they arrived in a less-well-off part of town. The best part was that the bounties were paid by the Adventurer¡¯s Guild now, since the local government had made such a mess of things! A way to earn some coin and earn a name for herself with the Guild? It was win-win! This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Jus¡¯ stand back and watch!¡± The big teen boasted before he stomped into an alley. The teen waited until one of the small rodent-like creatures that flew around the alley landed on the ground near him, then leapt. He landed on it and stomped four times before the kill notification popped up. ¡°Ha! See, ¡®m the greatest young person in the city!¡± The boy preened. Ranthia laughed out loud before she could stop herself. ¡°Wot, y¡¯think you¡¯d do any better, blanket girl?¡± The boy challenged. ¡°Sure!¡± Ranthia replied with a smile. She brushed past the flabbergasted boy¡ªa boy that was nearly merely a third her level¡ªbefore she drew her knives and let them pop out beneath her cloak. It was time to earn some spending money. Ranthia was a predator, and the wind weasels had been her prey. She had feasted well, metaphorically. The kids were watching so Ranthia mostly stuck with her knife work and a few pulses of [Light Haze] to foul attacks from the wind weasels. There weren¡¯t any levels in the slaughter, but it was fun. And profitable. Though Ranthia¡¯s ego was still bruised when she was forced to take a wind weasel out with [Metal Conjuration]. Had she dodged the rodent that went for her eye, it would have landed on the boy¡¯s face. [Parrying] had fused into [Combat] seasons ago, but her knives were out of position. She still didn¡¯t have the speed to get them back in time; it was the major flaw of being a [Mage] that fought like a physical classer. Thus, she was forced to put a metal spike through it. The System awarded weight based on not only her use of her classes, but how she made use of her skills. Skills used to directly attack and kill were not where she wanted her Metal class, nor her future Mirror [Mage] class, to go. She always put her best effort into not using her classes in ways that were inconsistent with her future plans. But she wasn¡¯t quite willing to let a kid get mangled in the pursuit of perfection, not even an obnoxious one. Just one (more) ¡®incorrect¡¯ use of her magic shouldn¡¯t be too dramatic of a problem for her someday. She hoped. Still, the day had been nicely profitable. She was so grateful that she even bought a cute little copper wire bracelet decorated with silphium seed shapes for the boy, so he could give it to his betrothed. It left her with plenty of coin. After that she hit the baths¡ªblessed cleanliness and warmth¡ªthen managed to find a stylist that actually had women that handled the haircare. Ranthia was feeling good and [Cute] with her new short hairstyle; it wasn¡¯t trendy, those styles always required longer hair than she wanted, but the stylist had done beautiful work off of her own best judgment. [Cute] had loved it too, rewarding her with three more levels in her overly neglected skill. ¡°There you are! Where on Pallos have you be¡ªwait, something¡¯s different.¡± Pupius cut through the crowd with a stormy expression while he studied her. Ranthia just waited with a happy smile. ¡°¡­You little shit, you didn¡¯t swipe Tatius¡¯ purse!?¡± Pupius scowled judgmentally. ¡°No! Gods, have some faith! I earned these funds myself. I was going to buy dinner for everyone, but if you don¡¯t think I should have money I¡¯m happy to just buy for Tatius and me.¡± Ranthia snapped with a glare. Pupius immediately made the appropriate apologetic noises. No one could resist the allure of free food. They spent a bit better than half a year in Aquiliea. Tatius¡¯ leg had healed up in less than half that time¡ªwith some cool new scars to boot¡ªbut they had lingered long enough that they got comfortable. Pupius had spent quite a bit of time with a widowed woman a few years his senior, and for a time it looked as if he would put down roots. At least until Tatius and Ranthia returned from a job to find Pupius drunk off his gourd yelling at the wall about how women were terrible fiends worse than the most vile of monsters. Some hurts precluded ever getting a coherent explanation about what happened. Ranthia had been determined to hunt the wind weasels to extinction, but she ultimately learned a harsh lesson about the adaptability of even relatively stupid creatures. In the span of months, wind weasels turned from an incredibly aggressive pest that was stupid enough to bash its own head in on her [Iron Decoys]¡ªthey made the best indignant death squeaks when that happened¡ªto thieving scavengers that fled from the merest trace of a human¡¯s presence. [Silent Steps] helped, which made Ranthia more effective than most of the others that bothered with the paltry bounties, but the creatures had even stopped gathering in large groups. Wind weasels might have become a fact of life in Aquiliea, but they were no longer quite the (minor) menace they had once been, at the very least. Finally, one day, Tatius, Pupius, and Ranthia stood in the Adventurer¡¯s Guild surveying the jobs, and Tatius put voice to the thoughts that had been in their heads. ¡°It¡¯s time to move on, we should take a job that leads us out of town.¡± Pupius and Ranthia quickly agreed. Aquiliea was comfortable, but they also weren¡¯t really building up their funds. And no matter how many bloodied pelts Ranthia turned in, it was clear that the local Guildmaster wasn¡¯t going to make her a real Adventurer. At most, the man seemed content to shield her from those that complained about the diminished population of wind weasels (though seriously, what on Pallos did those idiots think the bounty on them was for?). A job was selected¡ªbringing seeds to a farming community that masqueraded as a village to the west¡ªand they vowed to leave in two days. Adventurers needed to venture out! Ranthia allowed herself time to rest and enjoy the amenities of civilized life for most of her time, but not all of it. She had some chaos to wreak before they moved on. She had a plan¡ªokay, fine, a notion¡ªand was pleased that she would finally have an opportunity to carry it out. She hadn¡¯t wanted to get them driven out of town, but now that they were leaving anyway¡­ Bright and early the morning of the day they planned to leave, a nervous Ranthia paced back and forth before the doors to the local temple. Why on Pallos did temples close for the night?! She waited anxiously, her cloak twisted back behind her shoulders to look more like a cape, her chest¡ªsuch as it was¡ªthrust out and her hair styled and tweaked so many times that it had almost become a nervous tic. Finally, the doors opened. Ranthia brushed past the priest that had opened the door and tried desperately not to run through Aquiliea¡¯s temple until she knelt before the altar for Xaoc, God of Chaos. Yes, technically, she was able to pray anywhere she wanted, but when Ranthia had access to a proper altar she preferred to make use of it! Plus, she was reasonably certain that the guard wasn¡¯t going to search the temple. Aquiliea¡¯s temple was lovely and spacious, but it was near the bottom of Ranthia¡¯s list of favorite temples simply because the local priests were jerks. A man named Sacerdus¡ªan elderly man who acted superficially warm and friendly but was so rigid and cold that Ranthia only learned his name out of spite¡ªalmost always manifested out of nowhere to keep an eye on her. A judgmental eye, at that. Priests that were unattached to any particular deity always seemed oddly prone to becoming entirely too rigid and orderly, as if Seira herself poached them. Predictably, the man showed up just in time to try to prevent her from setting her offering on the altar. Ranthia simply gave him the stink eye when Xaoc accepted the offering, and the ball of colorful mud vanished in a trivial display of divine power. Arrogant idiots like Sacerdus that thought they understood the gods completely, better than anyone else ever could, ticked her off. Being a generalist meant you failed equally at everything, and no one with an orderly heart could ever truly understand Xaoc! As always when she prayed, Ranthia opened up her mana pool to her god. Xaoc was free to take whatever He felt He needed or wanted while she prayed, and for her longer prayers her mana regeneration allowed Him to take even more. What the gods did with mana given through prayers wasn¡¯t something that she truly understood, but she was confident that He put it to good use. And it did her little good sitting at full inside of a town. Occasionally, when she prayed, Ranthia heard Xaoc¡¯s voice. It wasn¡¯t incredibly common; He tended to remain busy¡ªlikely like each of the five great gods¡ªand Ranthia suspected that Xaoc preferred to speak only when she least expected it. He still paid attention though, she always felt¡­ not quite emotions, but at least a suggestion of how Xaoc felt or reacted to what she shared. She experienced sentiments like understanding, comfort, or amusement. ¡­Yet as Ranthia regaled Xaoc with her night¡¯s chaos-inducing mischief, she felt the god¡¯s laughter. ¡°I¡¯m still not sure how I managed it, but at this point all sixteen of the governor¡¯s prized pigs are inside of his manor. They just¡­ went for it! Even from outside I can hear the governor screaming at his guards not to hurt them. And the big one, that sow? I go to peek inside and she suddenly comes into view again, charging right at me! I threw out a [Homunculus of Light] more-or-less reflexively since she¡¯s taller than I am and probably weighs more than Tatius and Pupius in full gear combined! She veers off and¡ªI swear I¡¯m not making this up¡ªcrashes through a door in the hallway. The loudest crash you¡¯ve ever heard rings out¡­ ¡°¡­Then she comes running back into the hallway and runs deeper into the manor. Except now she¡¯s covered from snout to butt in blues, teals, and greens! She had smashed into barrels of dye and now as she ran deeper into the governor¡¯s estate, she covered everything in dye. Everything! I was backing away because I was sure the city guard would show up soon, gods know the noise coming from the manor was loud enough. Then, just before I circled back into the alley I used for my approach, what did I see? ¡°The governor, in his small clothes, covered in dye! He ran out, chasing three of the smaller pigs, trying to catch them with his bare hands! Except they¡¯re somehow covered in dye too and they just slipped effortlessly right out of his grasp, and this left him off-balance¡­ and yes, he crashes face-first into the ground juuust as the city guard arrived. He starts yelling at them to help him catch his pigs! ¡°I was laughing, which was dumb and one of the guards saw me, so I made myself scarce at that point. While I made my way here, I overheard the guard talking about how they¡¯re hunting an eight- or nine-year-old boy who might be responsible for letting the pigs out. ¡­Have I mentioned how glad I am that I keep my hair cut short? Even if I am eager to start maturing already. Still, glad we leave soon, I¡¯ll just have to keep my head down on the way out. ¡°It¡¯s too bad I¡¯m not a bit older, I¡¯d love to have pretended to be a traveling artist. I¡¯d bet every coin I¡¯ve got that I could have convinced him to leave his home vibrantly dyed. ¡®Oh, this is just like what the wealthy have been doing in the capital, except the energy of it is far better than anything I have ever seen!¡¯¡± Ranthia wiped the tears she had shed from her own laughter from her eyes while she waited for her patron deity to conclude His mirth. A somber thought drifted through her mind, which made the task even easier. ¡°¡­I hope none of the governor¡¯s people got into too big of trouble over this. I wasn¡¯t planning to make that big of a mess.¡± Ranthia added after a bit of self-reflection. Xaoc acknowledged her concern. Though, if she was honest with herself, she wasn¡¯t completely certain if Xaoc shared it. She loved chaos, but she lived in a society. She loved to add fun chaos to the world that brightened lives, but the idea of chaos that resulted in slaves being beaten or lives ruined just seemed sour to her. Xaoc understood and accepted that, but He hadn¡¯t provided any clear indication whether He agreed with her or not. Ranthia, for one, chose to assume the lack of a rebuke or suggestion to embrace the darker sides of chaos meant that He largely agreed with her on what the ideal expression of chaos was, even if He wouldn¡¯t wholly reject other aspects of chaos. Time spent with her deity was precious to her. She avoided asking Him questions though. She knew that Xaoc had the answers to the questions that occasionally kept her up at night, the questions about who she used to be¡­ But those questions were for her to chew on, she had no intention of bothering Xaoc with them. Ultimately, it really was irrelevant, which she had to remind herself of every now and then. Whomever she had been, that [Paladin] had failed Xaoc. So, she was determined to be the sort of devotee that the God of Chaos could be proud of. Ranthia wasn¡¯t limited by who she was; she wanted to focus on who she could become. Because that was who would bring more chaos into Pallos and, ultimately, become worthy of Xaoc once again. Book 1 - Chapter 10 - Setbacks and Disappointment ¡°Out of the question.¡± Tatius¡¯ refusal was so absolute that he had crossed his arms over his chest. ¡°It¡¯s not a kill mission, the job outright requires him brought back alive to face justice.¡± Ranthia argued. ¡°Plus, he was lower level than the kid is, I think we should go for it.¡± Pupius piled on. The argument circled for a while, but finally¡ªmiraculously¡ªTatius gave in and assented. They had been through quite a few missions over the past year-and-change, and Ranthia wasn¡¯t quite as small as she had once been. Tatius continued to try to treat her like a girl¡ªhe even continually insisted on giving her sweets on every birthday, despite her dislike of them¡ªand to protect her childhood as best an Adventurer could. But sooner or later, he had to acknowledge that she was growing up. By Remus¡¯ twisted logic, she was only another year or two away from being expected to marry. But with his agreement, they would hunt down the boy. He had been romantically involved with the middle son of a small merchant family, until he suddenly stole the boyfriend¡¯s late mother¡¯s jewelry that she had given him before she passed. It was the kind of crime that made your blood boil to hear about it: breaking someone¡¯s heart over greed. The job was done, and the group was in the midst of their return journey. Ranthia was covered in dirt and mud and her left arm was crusted with dried blood. Her blood, along with the remnants of the blood clotting potions she had been forced to use. Tatius drove the boy back towards the town, the boy¡¯s arms roughly pinned behind his back and held firmly in Tatius¡¯ steel grasp. The look on his face screamed that he¡¯d love nothing more than to apply a bit more pressure and snap the kid¡¯s limbs. Pupius limped shoeless¡ªhis sandals had fallen victim to a different one of the brat¡¯s traps¡ªwhile he cradled the pouch that contained the damaged jewelry. The shit had tried to smash his stolen loot when they finished breaking through all of the traps he had set up. Fortunately, he¡¯d been too stupid to keep an escape route for himself; his entire plan had been to turtle up behind his traps in that cave until people gave up and decided he could keep his ill-gotten gains. The first time she had ever entered a cave¡ªnearly four years ago¡ªTatius had advised her to stop and really absorb everything. He had claimed that her first descent into a natural cave was wondrous and special, like a gateway to another world. And after that, each and every cave would just be another dusty or damp hole. He had been right, but she hated the cave of traps more than most. Gods her arm hurt. And itched. She was no stranger to cuts, bruises, scrapes, and the thousands of other minor indignities that Adventurers tolerated. But having four wooden spikes driven almost all the way through the flesh of her arm wasn¡¯t quite like anything she had suffered through before. She was equally grumpy that she¡¯d been forced into using [Metal Menace] like your garden variety artillery mage to handle some of the traps. [Iron Decoys] were used like shields to slow down or bypass some of the traps too. The class had leveled 11 times in the two days that they smashed their way through the cave of How On Pallos Did This Brat Set So Many Thrice-Cursed Traps In Less Than Eight Days. Which wasn¡¯t the best of signs, but finally she had gotten both [Deceptive Decoy Mage] and [Metal Menace] to level 128. She just wanted to get back into civilization, class up, bathe, eat something, and sleep. Preferably all at the same time, no matter how impossible that was. ¡°Greetings, once again.¡± Ranthia¡¯s guide called out the moment that Ranthia entered the world within herself. Ranthia aggressively scratched at her left arm instead of replying. Not that the injuries transferred here, but her mind appreciated the chance to finally allow herself to scratch after she had spent days carefully resisting the urge. For a few moments she just reveled in the ability to scratch her arm and its lack of pain. ¡°Are you done?¡± Her guide asked wryly when Ranthia finally stopped and stepped up to the counter. ¡°If they announce that jerk¡¯s getting executed, I¡¯m staying in town until I can dance on the ashes from his pyre.¡± Ranthia non-answered bitterly. After she vented, Ranthia took a deep breath and withdrew the short sword, hilt wrapped in pale red, with a diamond pommel, and set it down on the counter. ¡°I guess this is it.¡± Ranthia looked across the reds, oranges, and yellows that stretched through the armory, and smiled with a courage that she didn¡¯t feel. ¡°Bring me the merged Mirror class that carries us the furthest towards our goals!¡± The guide accepted the short sword and returned it to its basket before she turned back and moved among the swords. Technically Ranthia had been able to class up for a while, [Metal Menace] hadn¡¯t needed to be capped in order to merge into [Deceptive Decoy Mage], but the extra stats promised to be useful and Ranthia suspected that it advanced her odds a bit. She needed the classes to merge, since she only had one more class up¡ªgoing by conventional wisdom, since allegedly no one reached level 768¡ªand her goals were far more ambitious than the mere acquisition of the Mirror element. She would either succeed here and now or¡ª ¡°There are no classes available that meet your request.¡± ¡ªOr everything was going to go badly. None of the short swords in the entire armory represented a Mirror class, and none of them merged with [Metal Menace]. Ranthia had a small heap of Light short swords that slightly furthered her Light decoys, a few sidegrades into other basic elements (Fire decoys sounded vaguely neat but mostly useless), and a single Brilliance option that revolved around blinding and blasting her opponents. Ranthia had cursed with increasing volume and complexity as her guide carefully walked her through her options. Realistically, she wasn¡¯t completely screwed. There was still the option of waiting until the level 256 class up. ¡­But a basic Mirror aspected class wasn¡¯t what she was after! Level 256 was already a tier that only the most senior and veteran Adventurers ever reached, and yet the next class upgrade opportunity wasn¡¯t until level 768. ¡­She had never seen anyone even close to that level, not among the Adventurers nor Remus¡¯ elite Rangers, and there were no clear records of even anyone that had reached level 512 to unlock their third class. In other words, if she waited for level 256 to get her first Mirror class, her goals were likely going to be out of reach for her entire life. They had always been a longshot¡­ That was the crux of why Ranthia was so pissed off. She knew that the smart choice was to take the damned Brilliance class, [Brilliantly Blinding Beauty], and find a new path in life. The class was legitimately decent¡ªand was actually yellow in quality, a major jump from the pale reds she had ever been offered and the highest quality class she had received to date¡ªand promised to make a proper Adventurer out of her. She knew it would let her support Tatius and Pupius. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡­But that was the problem. It wasn¡¯t her. The class represented the path of a supporter. She never wanted to just spend her entire life supporting the two men. She wanted to fight alongside them. She needed something¡­ more. She needed to be more. ¡°We¡¯re resetting.¡± Ranthia whispered. ¡°Are you certain? It is true that this is not the plan, but¡ª¡± ¡°Just bring me [Magissistant] again!¡± Ranthia snapped, cutting her older self off. There was no way to consult Tatius and Pupius. Once you began to class up, you had to finish it. You had to take a class, you had to walk forward¡­ or you had to walk backwards. Ranthia, for the first time in her life¡ªas far as she knew¡ªopted for the latter. She would return to level 8 in her first class. [Deceptive Decoy Mage] would disappear, along with [Light Conjuration] and [Light Haze]. Gods, she was even going to lose her progress that allowed her to create [Homunculus of Light], since it hadn¡¯t originally been a part of [Magissistant]. But she refused to back down. She had spent her entire life pursuing her dreams. ¡­She just hoped Tatius and Pupius would understand. Her guide delivered the blade. The class was exactly what it had once been, back when she first classed up. The blade felt far too light in her hand, like something meant for a child far smaller than she was. She had grown. And she was determined to grow in the direction that she desired. ¡°I¡¯ll be back for [Metal Menace], to upgrade it.¡± Ranthia promised, before she turned and left the world within. Ranthia woke up again and Pupius noticed immediately. He started to say something, but Ranthia ignored him and immediately fell back within herself to class up her second class. Her options were better that time. There was a weird Mantle sidegrade that would have allowed her to conjure blunt weaponry to hit things with¡­ which felt like a complete wildcard since it had no relation to anything she had ever done. But, in the end, she took [Steel Doll], which was more-or-less a straight upgrade of [Metal Menace] that improved the decoys further. ¡­And it, at the very least, was pale orange in quality. ¡°I really hope Tatius and Pupius will accept my decision¡­¡± Ranthia hesitated before she left, suddenly nervous. ¡°It¡¯s not like you can change your mind at this point. Go on, I¡¯ll see you soon.¡± Her guide replied coolly. The woman had been slightly frosty ever since Ranthia had thrown her tantrum during her prior class up that resulted in her reset. Ranthia sighed and nodded. She still took a moment to compose herself while she reminded herself that there was no way Tatius and Pupius would abandon her. She knew that she was being selfish¡­ but her goal was important. ¡­Not that the men truly understood it, but she had always kept quiet about just who she truly was and¡­ Before she managed to lose her nerve, Ranthia left the world of her soul once again. Pupius was gone by the time Ranthia woke up again. ¡­At least both classes had been [Mage] classes, so it wasn¡¯t like her tag changed, because now her Metal class was in the lead. Fortunately, she hadn¡¯t received an Advanced class yet, so it wasn¡¯t like her eye color had changed. For a few terrible moments, Ranthia considered just lying to the men rather than admitting to the reset. But after she took a few deep breaths, she was ready to throw aside that terrible¡ªand frankly unworkable¡ªidea. She needed to be honest with the men.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 12]
[Mana: 2360/2260]
[Mana Regen Rate: 897]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 3]
[Strength: 22]
[Dexterity: 153]
[Vitality: 253]
[Speed: 59]
[Mana: 236]
[Mana Regeneration: 138]
[Magic Power: 348]
[Magic Control: 212]
[Class 1: [Magissistant ¨C Light (8)]]
[Light Affinity: 8]
[Light Manipulation: 8]
[Light Resistance: 8]
[Spell Reworking: 8]
-
-
-
-
[Class 2: [Steel Doll ¨C Metal (129)]]
[Metal Affinity: 129]
[Metal Conjuration: 129]
[Metal Manipulation: 129]
[Steel Decoys: 129]
[Puppeteering: 116]
[Basic Armaments: 129]
[Restore Doll: 1]
[Doll Deployment: 1]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 129]
[Combat: 129]
[Knives: 129]
[Dodging: 129]
[Boosted Reflexes: 129]
[Fast Learner: 92]
[Silent Steps: 93]
[Cute: 71]
Gods and Goddesses, her stats were a mess. She had lost all of the free stats that she had ever received through her first class¡ªaside from when she was a [Child of Pallos]¡ªand she hadn¡¯t really consciously considered just how badly her mana regen rate depended on the boost from her Light element. She wasn¡¯t much of a [Mage] and she promised to be an even worse combatant than ever. She rejected her regrets, but they gnawed at her no matter how she shoved them aside. She had made her choice! This was for the best. ¡­Wasn¡¯t it? It wasn¡¯t like she could undo what she had done though. But she hoped¡ªand very nearly broke her own rules to pray¡ªthat she hadn¡¯t just effectively destroyed herself. Tatius and Pupius had to understand. Because if they didn¡¯t, if they abandoned her, she wasn¡¯t convinced that she could survive as she had just become. The duo weren¡¯t angry¡­ but they were displeased and Ranthia couldn¡¯t fool herself for a moment into believing that they weren¡¯t. No one had yelled. Neither of them had accused her, and if they were judging her harshly they managed a remarkable job of keeping it off their faces. But she knew they were disappointed. With her first class reduced back to level 8, her already tenuous contributions to their Adventurer jobs were further limited. Worse, her stats had been skewed in ways that she wasn¡¯t used to, her instincts on her mana regeneration, magic control, and to a lesser extent her physical prowess were all off. That meant there would be further time lost to retraining herself. Privately, Ranthia suspected that Pupius seemed to be impressed by her reasoning. It was¡­ a difficult decision to burn your present for the sake of your future, and Ranthia knew for a fact that most people wouldn¡¯t have had the gumption for it. Though Ranthia still had [Steel Doll] to lean on, life promised to get harder, and their prospects promised to get leaner for a time. But, in the end, the men accepted her decision. There was no discussion¡ªvocal or otherwise¡ªabout abandoning her. And Ranthia promised herself that she would never forget that. She needed to be forever grateful to the men for giving her such a precious opportunity. And, of course, she was grateful to Xaoc for His role (however indirect it might be, and Ranthia refused to speculate about that) in leading her into the care of the duo. Without them her life would have promised to be¡­ difficult. But Ranthia wasn¡¯t dead in some ditch, not yet. She could still improve. She would find her way back to the path she intended to walk, no matter what it took. Book 1 - Chapter 11 - Covenant Money in Remus was relatively straightforward, simple iron coins. Counterfeiting wasn¡¯t too big a deal because, typically, the cost of trying to make your own coins cost more than you¡¯d make. Enough iron for a single iron coin cost, typically, roughly an iron coin (maybe a smidge less, but time has value too!). That didn¡¯t stop the odd Metal classer from trying to make fake coins, but such scams rarely went on for very long before they were caught. In most towns in Remus a modest meal typically cost roughly 1 to 2 coins, 3 for those that were especially ravenous. Sure, it was easy to spend more if you wanted to¡ªor were easily fleeced¡ªbut most people survived just fine on less than 10 coins a day. Ranthia was pretty sure she had endured off roughly 2 coins a day¡ªtops¡ªwhen she had lived in Perinthus. For the wealthy, money stopped getting measured in coins. 64 coins fit on a metal rod to create¡­ well, one rod. All said and done across Ranthia¡¯s entire time in Aquiliea she earned less than a full rod hunting wind weasels nearly daily. She earned plenty of money to pay for the odd meal, finance entry into the baths, or visit the stylist from time to time, but it wasn¡¯t a path to wealth. The payment for most Adventurer jobs was measured in coins. A single job usually offered a bit better than what Ranthia pulled in, total, from hunting wind weasels a couple of years ago, but there were overhead costs involved in most jobs too. Even when they managed to escape without injuries that necessitated the use of potions or downtime, there were always costs involved. And then, when they turned in their latest job in a town called Deva¡ªhey it was an easy name to remember, especially when Pupius insisted on singing a dumb little song he heard in the past that was mostly the city¡¯s name repeated over and over with a few other words sprinkled in¡ªthey were surprised by the Guildmaster of the branch when he popped down. ¡°Ah, excellent, it is your group! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you.¡± The man was tall¡ªintimidatingly tall, even Tatius looked small next to him¡ªand covered in tattoos which, along with his beard, marked him as being from Laconia. Remus was, basically, the whole world so far as any Reman knew, but Laconia was the bit of Remus that wasn¡¯t part of the Republic of Remus. Pupius absolutely refused to travel there for reasons that he refused to explain. The Laconic people were often considered barbaric, and they probably had a lot to do with why Remus¡¯ men were clean shaven without exception. Beards were uncivilized, unless you were from Laconia. Still, the not-quite-a-nation was functionally Remus¡¯ only neighbor, so it wasn¡¯t like the odd individual couldn¡¯t be found within Remus. They were just a rare sight. Almost as rare as a knife-wielding [Mage] child. ¡°For what?¡± Ranthia asked the man, nonplussed by his appearance. Pupius looked like he was in the grip of a fight-or-flight impulse, while Tatius had gone rigid with attention as he fell back on his military training. ¡°Oho, I almost forgot these good lads had a portable good luck charm, hello there little one!¡± The large and, clearly, boisterous man bellowed. Ranthia just waved back at him while she waited for an explanation. ¡°Your father¡ªI do have that right?¡ªand his¡­ friend have been promoted to B-Ranked Adventurers!¡± The man explained with a large grin. And just like that, their job options and rewards expanded. B-Ranked jobs listed their rewards in rods more often than not. Which was a bit of a shame since Pupius had just been forced to pass on a pair of beautiful Noric Steel short swords that were, if anything, better than the Legion-issued pair he had been forced to trade away for something¡­ less obviously illegal. That had been their job before this, escorting the blacksmith¡¯s apprentice to sell the last work the blacksmith¡¯s father had created before his passing. Pupius had wanted them so badly she half expected him to somehow will them into his possession, but instead they escorted the apprentice to a larger town where he sold them without issue to some jerk that probably stuck them on his wall. But still, more money! Struggling to kill a velociraptor was embarrassing. Sure, they were reasonably quick, but they came up to her waist. Even in a group velociraptors were only vaguely intimidating, if you were unarmed and wounded. They scavenged and stole bites from the kills of their betters. They were such a non-threat that Deva¡¯s Guildmaster decided to let her take the job, even though she wasn¡¯t truly an Adventurer. The job had languished for too long as it was. And thus, she faced the dreaded Biter of Dogs. Note: It was not a killer of dogs, it merely bit them. And then ran away as fast as it could. After Ranthia had been forced to reset her class, she realized something. The kind of thing that was so obvious in hindsight that she couldn¡¯t believe it had never dawned on her before. Her classes had refused to merge because she wasn¡¯t using them as two parts of one whole. She had used Light, or she had used Metal; she had always merely selected which class suited the immediate need. Ever since the reset, she tried to combine them. [Homunculus of Light] had never returned to her repertoire¡ªthat was part of the risk of a reset, you weren¡¯t necessarily guaranteed to be able to recreate skills that you had made yourself¡ªbut [Life by Light] worked better for her new purposes. Even if the name sounded more like something a [Healer] should have gotten, it wasn¡¯t. [Life by Light], created using [Spell Reworking], enabled her to paint over objects¡ªsay [Steel Decoys]¡ªwith Light to give them more small movements that monsters mistook for life. It would never fool a human¡ªthough the glowing armor and sword might make them overestimate the threat posed by one of her relatively weak and clumsy [Steel Decoys]¡ªbut it worked wonders with stupid beasts. It also, mercifully, didn¡¯t require much mana. Her regeneration rate was bad enough already. The velociraptor¡ªshe refused to call it by its pseudo-title¡ªonce again attempted to run away. [Steel Decoys]¡ªsent at range using [Doll Deployment]¡ªwas followed by [Life by Light] to throw an obstacle in its path. Then she had her obstacle move toward the dumb beast with [Puppeteering]. The creature veered to the side¡ªwhere it very nearly brained itself on a tree¡ªbefore it turned back to rush the target that its pitiful mind had determined was less dangerous. Ranthia just smiled as she and the beast closed in on each other. Over the years of hunting dinosaurs¡ªand other monsters¡ªwith Tatius and Pupius, she had developed and honed a number of instincts. One of those was the ability to tell when a beast had set itself on its target and intended to attack. It was an ability that had saved her life numerous times, and one that had helped [Boosted Reflexes] out. And her instincts said that the feathered menace had finally decided to attack her directly. Which was good, since that last use of [Steel Decoys] had almost emptied out her mana. Had the dumb creature attempted to escape yet again, she might have lost it. Failure stung, but Pupius was always there to make sure to grind salt into the wound. It was either going to swipe at her with its wing-claws or try to bite into her. Ranthia adjusted her stance and readied her knives under her cloak. Only to blink when the thing suddenly leapt at the last instant. Its dexterity was clearly higher than she had expected, but she had no time to appreciate that. She swung her left knife while she tried to dodge around the leg claws that kicked at her. Which was almost exactly the wrong thing to do. She dodged under the leg claws easily enough, but then its neck crashed into the edge of her knife. Ranthia had neither the strength nor the class skills to cleanly sever its head, and the force of the impact wrenched her arm to the side painfully due to the momentum and weight of the small dinosaur. Which allowed it to kick the side of her head, shoulder, and then torso as they crashed into a bloodied heap. Pain wasn¡¯t an unfamiliar companion. Ranthia grit her teeth through it and hurriedly pulled away from the dinosaur before she rolled to her knees, her right knife held up defensively. Her left was either under the feathered fiend or still stuck in its neck. She was pretty sure she¡¯d broken a couple of fingers on her left hand when the knife was wrenched out of her grasp. So freaking embarrassing! Her quarry thrashed, but it slowed visibly while she watched. She still maintained readiness until¡­ [*ding!* You have slain a [Velociraptor] (Wind, level 114)!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Magissistant] has reached level 32! +2 Mana, +2 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration from your element.] [*ding!* [Light Affinity], [Light Manipulation], and [Life by Light] have reached level 32!] Ranthia heaved a sigh of relief and approached the carcass. Velociraptor was edible, but it was the kind of edible that kept it out of most markets. She still fully intended to butcher it and carry the meat back. She was going to cook it that night, no matter how much Tatius and Pupius grumbled. It would be her first task once she classed up. The fourth and fifth fingers on her left hand were broken. That was an easy fix, a bit of wood and some of the roughspun she kept on hand for bandages to make a splint and keep them still until they healed. Her cloak had suffered a few gashes, far from the first. Those could be stitched later. The kick to her head had cut her forehead and part of her scalp. More challenging, forehead wounds tended to bleed an obnoxious degree and it was hard to investigate the scope of the damage. The small mirror of polished metal that she had bought in Aquiliea wasn¡¯t nearly as clear as something a Mirror aspected classer could conjure, which didn¡¯t help. She washed the wound out as best she could with water and dumped a blood clotting potion on it. The cut to her shoulder was basically superficial after her cloak blocked most of it. She washed it with water and otherwise let it be; it wasn¡¯t quite bad enough to warrant the expense of another blood clotting potion. The cut on her back didn¡¯t look too bad in her mirror either, so she decided to leave it as it was. She couldn¡¯t really reach it to clean it with water very well. If it was worse than she thought, the men could always boil a bit of wine to clean it after the fact. Leaving it to wait wasn¡¯t going to kill her such a short distance from town. The injuries still slowed down her efforts to reduce the velociraptor to its meat and useful parts. The sun hung lower than she would have liked in the sky before she made it back to the town. The fact that her knife had apparently hit a major artery on the dinosaur and somehow blocked off the blood flow enough that there was just enough pressure built up when she removed it¡­ Well, washing her cloak was on her to-do list. There wasn¡¯t much she could do about that in the wild; she wasn¡¯t even sure where the nearest body of water was, unless she wanted to walk all the way over to the Nostrum Sea. Deva was closer anyway. ¡­Of course, Deva also had an obstacle that Ranthia was beginning to think she was a bit cursed with. ¡°Halt!¡± The guard at the gates shouted when she tried to walk past. ¡°Yes?¡± The blood-covered not-quite-a-teenager asked sourly. ¡°What¡¯s your purpose for entering town?¡± The guard asked warily. ¡°Just completed a job for the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, here to report that and class up.¡± Ranthia answered tactically. ¡°You expect me to believe that you¡¯re an Adventurer?¡± ¡°Not especially, yet I was allowed to take the job and completed it.¡± Gods she just wanted to lay down. ¡°You¡¯re a [Mage].¡± ¡°Oh, good eye.¡± Whoops, she was seriously trying to keep her attitude in check, but that just kind of slipped out. ¡°Expunge your mana.¡± ¡°I already did, why do you think I look like this?¡± ¡°Expunge it again or I can¡¯t let you into town.¡± Ranthia bit back her curse and grudgingly formed a few small metal balls with [Metal Conjuration] and allowed them to drop. ¡°Is that it?¡± The guard asked warily. ¡°I told you I was tapped out!¡± Ranthia snapped. In truth she had already regenerated nearly half of her mana pool, but expending mana was so pointless. Most [Mages] regenerated enough to kill someone dead in short order, and a [Warrior] or a [Ranger] was just as deadly while they got to traipse right through checkpoints. ¡°Anything to declare?¡± She was pretty sure the guard was just trying to find ways to delay her at this point. ¡°I declare that I am exhausted, my wounds ache, but the dinosaur has been slain.¡± Ranthia answered, her grasp on her attitude clearly showing signs of failing. ¡°Any contraband?¡± ¡°Does anyone ever like¡­ just go ¡®oh yes, I have contraband, let me show you!¡¯¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Not really. Well?¡± ¡°Not unless dino meat got illegalized at some point since I left this morning.¡± Ranthia lied. Her knives were absolutely contraband. They were Legion issued, stolen by treasonous folk, then gifted to a little girl in a well-meaning but absolutely problematic bit of generosity. She had established a backstory to explain them, but without Tatius and Pupius there¡ªor the proper backing of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild¡ªit was dubious whether anyone would believe it. ¡­Well, okay, she had established a backstory that Tatius and Pupius had¡ªafter they stopped laughing¡ªhelped to polish into something actually believable. In her defense, she hadn¡¯t known at the time how ridiculous the idea of a formorian assassin was! She had no way to know the formorian menace, Remus¡¯ ancient enemy and the opposing side to the never-ending war, were just¡­ insects. Mindless giant insects that threw themselves in an endless tide against Remus¡¯ Legions. The guard finally sent her on her way, mercifully. ¡°Hey kid welcome ba¡ªHa! Did you seriously get torn up by a fucking ve¡ª¡± Ranthia silenced Pupius by throwing her sack of raw meat at him. ¡°Prep that for me, I¡¯m cooking it after I class up and wash up. ¡­And don¡¯t you dare try to cook it yourself, I don¡¯t want to eat charred chunks of velociraptor!¡± Ranthia snapped irritably. While Pupius sputtered indignations about not being her servant, Tatius reached out for her, then seemed to think better of it. ¡°Good luck.¡± He finally said, before he sat back down. ¡°Thanks!¡± Ranthia answered with false cheer before she headed upstairs for their room. Her nerves built up with every step she took. She had no idea what to expect from her class up, not really. In theory resetting your class allowed everything from this class up to be improved¡ªor even different¡ªbased on what she had accomplished¡­ But the truth of the matter was that resetting from level 128 wasn¡¯t impressive. In all truth she couldn¡¯t say she had really accomplished anything of merit since she had reset either. Much of what she had done was barely¡ªand arguably¡ªassisting Tatius and Pupius while they handled threats or messy tumbling messes that ended in a bad kill and more injury than she should have ever suffered. ¡°If I haven¡¯t gotten a good Mirror class by level 128, I¡¯m giving up. Life as a supporter for Tatius and Pupius isn¡¯t so abhorrent.¡± She promised herself. And yet the mere thought of such a life made her want to cry. Ranthia settled into the bed Tatius had rented for her and sighed. Well, here I go. Ranthia sent to Xaoc as a little prayer. The sentiment she received from her god arrived immediately and it made her smile (which had the unfortunate side-effect of allowing those tears she was restraining to escape). There were no words, but the sentiment was clear. You¡¯ve got this. Ranthia fell into the world within herself immediately. ¡°[Deceptive Decoy Mage] is available, with increased stats, if you prefer, but¡­¡± Her guide set down the short sword that she carried. The hilt was wrapped in red¡ªnot the usual pale red that she was all too used to, at least¡ªthough the guide kept her hand over the pommel until she glanced at Ranthia¡¯s eyes before she slowly lifted it. The light caught gold. Pyrite! The gemstone that represented the Mirror element! Ranthia took a sharp intake of breath, then carefully set her hand on the short sword. She absorbed the details of the class that it represented in silence. She couldn¡¯t help it, she unleashed a girlish squeal and hopped up to get her knees on the counter so she could hug her guide tightly. [Reflection of Chaos ¨C Mirror]. You seek to become ever closer to chaos and your skills now, at last, reflect it. Wreak havoc on the senses of your foes as you grow anew. +1 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +1 Speed, +4 Mana, +4 Mana Regeneration, +4 Magic Power, +4 Magic Control per level. Ranthia released the guide before the woman could retaliate and took up the blade with a smile. She couldn¡¯t wait to show¡ª ¡°Ahem?¡± Ranthia blinked and turned back to her guide. ¡°You owe me your other sword if you intend to take that class, it is a merged class after all.¡± Her older self admonished. Ranthia blushed lightly and sheathed her new sword before she drew the one that represented [Steel Doll] and offered it hilt-first to her guide. ¡°Right, and so you owe me a second blade too.¡± Ranthia acknowledged with a grin. The woman nodded, and the armory behind her twisted in some way that threatened to give Ranthia a headache if she dwelt upon it. The guide accepted the blade and placed it into the returns basket¡ªwhere [Magissistant] had been just a moment before¡ªand stepped back into the armory. ¡°I presume the plan is unchanged?¡± The guide called back while she examined the plentiful blades, now laid out entirely differently from how they had been a moment before. ¡°Yeah, give me the best Dark aspected [Warrior] class I can get, with the caveats that I need it to be compatible with my knives and, preferably, absorb as many of my current General Skills as it can. ¡­Er, specifically [Combat], [Knives], [Dodging], [Boosted Reflexes], and maybe [Silent Steps].¡± Ranthia half-shouted in answer. ¡°Wait, only those five?¡± Her guide asked while she approached. ¡°Well, yeah. I¡¯d rather keep [Fast Learner] separate. And I don¡¯t want to touch any [Warrior] class that absorbs [Cute]!¡± Ranthia explained with no small amount of sass. Her guide shrugged and resumed her search. Ranthia just smiled and waited while she eagerly thought about how Tatius and Pupius were going to react to the good news! ¡­Wait¡­ ¡­Fuck! Ranthia¡¯s mind had slammed into the realization that she was about to emerge from her class up as a level 32-ish [Mage], effectively losing over a hundred levels. ¡­Well, it was the proper step forward, at least. And her [Warrior] class promised to¡ªfinally¡ªhelp with her knife work and her survival. Also, since it was a merged class, that meant that she still kept the stats from [Steel Doll] and its predecessors, so it wasn¡¯t as complete of a setback in her combat power as it sounded. Still, it was awkward. Her guide returned and the woman seemed apologetic, for some reason, while she handed over the bold red-wrapped level 8 class that best suited their goals. Ranthia raised an eyebrow at her older self¡¯s reticence¡­ at least until she touched the blade and absorbed its story. [Knife in the ¨C Dark]. The clever know that the true strength of a blade is not found through matching it against their opponent¡¯s own weaponry, the true strength of a blade lies within a single, decisive blow that strikes without warning and without being challenged. Seek out that blow with your newfound potential! +3 Strength, +6 Dexterity, +1 Vitality, +4 Speed, +1 Mana Regeneration per level. The class name was so bad that it burned. It was awful enough that Ranthia¡¯s respect for the System dropped multiple notches. ¡­But the class admittedly did everything she wanted. It promised to absorb [Combat] and [Knives]¡ªwhich would suck in the short term due to the level losses¡ªbut ultimately, she would be all the stronger for it as the class developed. Though Ranthia found it slightly odd that the class didn¡¯t seem to want to absorb [Dodging] or [Boosted Reflexes], at least not immediately. Ranthia wasn¡¯t quite petty enough to pass on a great class just because of a stupid name. Overall, despite the name, Ranthia was more than just happy. She had, at long last, finally found the first true first step toward the direction that she had long planned. She had reached the starting line. [*ding!* Congratulations! You have upgraded your first class ¨C [Reflections of Chaos ¨C Mirror]!] Mirror at last! [*ding!* [Light Affinity] and [Metal Affinity] have merged into [Mirror Affinity]!] [Mirror Affinity]: The power of Mirror reflects something within you. Put it to use. Eh, it was the starting line, she could accept that. [*ding!* [Light Manipulation] and [Steel Decoys] have merged into [Image of Self]!] [Image of Self]: Create false images of your own appearance. Increased range and duration of images per level. That was a nice upgrade over any of her prior inhuman decoys. [*ding!* Notice ¨C [Light Resistance] has been lost.] Okay, so the Mirror element didn¡¯t have a corresponding resistance skill, or she somehow hadn¡¯t qualified for it. Not too big a loss. [*ding!* [Life by Light], [Metal Manipulation], [Puppeteering], and [Basic Armaments] have merged into [Twisted Images]!] [Twisted Images]: Twist and bend images to emulate movement. Increased realism and decreased risk of the image breaking per level. Ranthia eyed that one with mixed feelings. More lifelike images was good and all, but ¡®twist and bend¡¯ was an unappealing descriptor. [*ding!* Notice ¨C [Metal Conjuration], [Restore Doll], and [Doll Deployment] have been lost.] So, she was going to have some holes in her new class, not entirely surprising for a fresh level 32 class. [*ding!* Congratulations! You have replaced your second class ¨C [Knife in the ¨C Dark]!] If she ignored the class name, she was happy. She was a [Warrior] at last! Blessed physical stats! [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Dark Affinity]!] [Dark Affinity]: Darkness lies in all things and is hidden everywhere around you. Acknowledge it and put it to use. As expected of any class, gotta have the affinity skill. [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Prowess]!] [*ding!* Your skill [Combat] has merged into [Prowess]!] [*ding!* Your skill [Knives] has merged into [Prowess]!] [*ding!* [Prowess] has evolved into [Knives & War]!] [Knives & War]: Every time a warrior draws her knife, it is an act of war. Carry your expertise forward, and bravely face any odds that come at you. Increases your combat prowess while using knives against all types of opponents. -658 Mana Regen Rate while wielding one or more knives. That was another notification set that she needed to figure out how to simplify and streamline, but that could wait for another time. [Combat] and [Knives] had been consumed, at long last! And¡­ Wait, HOW MUCH MANA REGENERATION?! [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Shadowed Strike]!] [Shadowed Strike]: Cover your blade with shadows, making its reach and shape difficult to discern. Increased density of shadow coverage per level. Well, that was non-exciting. Perhaps it was more useful than it sounded? Then again, Ranthia knew that the Dark element should include the ability to increase cutting power, so it was worth seeing if the skill ever evolved for her. Ranthia leapt out of bed¡ªright, the covering and blanket needed to be washed as well, she had kind of forgotten about the blood¡ªand hurried downstairs, she was eager to tell the men about her unmitigated success! ¡°¡­So, you¡¯re back to level 32 in one class, and level 8 in the other?¡± Tatius asked with a flinty expression on his face. ¡°I swear kid, you¡¯re the only person I¡¯ve ever even heard of that keeps getting weaker after every class up.¡± Pupius muttered. Ranthia glared at the duo. ¡°Don¡¯t you understand? I¡¯ve finally taken the first step towards my goals! This is what I¡¯ve been trying for since before I even left Perinthus!¡± She snapped. ¡°Yeah, great. Which means you¡¯re still not where you want to be.¡± Pupius retorted. ¡°¡­She is young.¡± Tatius mumbled, as if he was speaking to himself. ¡°Black Crow take you both! I came out last time with nothing but setbacks and you supported me, yet now that I¡¯ve finally emerged with everything I dared dream you sit there and complain?! Well, I¡¯m happy enough for all three of us, so there! If you¡¯ll excuse me, I have washing to do!¡± Ranthia stomped off after she shouted at the duo. ¡°She¡¯s going to be a total nightmare when she starts to bleed, any day now.¡± Pupius grumbled. Tatius considered the words carefully, then nodded his agreement. Night had fallen before Ranthia had finished washing her tunic¡ªeh, it wasn¡¯t too badly torn¡ªcloak, and bedding. The meat still waited for her, as far as she knew, but she was in a strange mood torn between her own joy and her outrage at the men. When in doubt, pray. And thus, she ventured to the temple¡ªthankfully open all hours, unlike some cities¡ªand knelt down before the altar to Xaoc. Deva¡¯s temple was modest, yet well loved. The altars were carved wood with simple stone accents, carefully tended by the local priests and priestesses. Those that worked the temple wore simple, yet comfortable and practical garb. It was one of Ranthia¡¯s favorites. While Ranthia prayed to Xaoc, her mind wandered and seemed unfocused. The words just kind of bubbled up when she paused what she had been saying, distracted by the impulse. ¡­The words came to her as a whim, if she was honest. She hadn¡¯t knelt there planning to utter them, yet she found herself pledging the words to Xaoc, without preparation or rehearsal. It was impulse, off-the-cuff, and raw. Which meant that the words were perfect. Whether I am your Paladin or just another blade, I will always accept Chaos and carry it with me. I will do what I can to reject the stagnation of Order, and I shall endeavor to spare those that cause true Chaos. I shall never accept those who court the final form of Order, destruction, for their actions may briefly be chaotic but they ultimately deny Your goals. In every place I visit, every battle I bring havoc to, every life I touch, I shall do my utmost to add a little more Chaos into our world. And you may always call upon me to exert your will upon this world, I was and forever shall be your Paladin and herald, even on this path. You gave me a second chance and an opportunity to sculpt myself anew, And so, this life is hereby pledged to the service of Chaos and to You. Xaoc listened. His attention focused on Pallos sufficiently that a bit of chaos seeped into the area. The small flames in the temple braziers and candles danced and twisted as if they were in a maelstrom. In the tavern nearby a bone die that was being used for gambling landed perfectly on its corner and spun until the table¡¯s leg quite suddenly failed, spilling and comingling the funds the trio gambled. A city guard carried a trap with a notorious feral tom cat that had¡ªafter seasons of effort¡ªfinally been caught, or at least it had been, until the bottom of the trap just suddenly fell off, which allowed the beast to hiss at the guard and scamper away. Ranthia felt her god¡¯s attention and felt him accept her words just as she did. And then his focus withdrew. He had never manifested nor sent an agent down, but the full focus of any the five great gods was practically a miracle in and of itself. Ranthia, in the aftermath, sighed with satisfaction as the words settled into her mind, body, and soul comfortably. She had always meant to swear a vow or oath to Xaoc, and in light of her recent achievement the time abruptly just¡­ felt right. Despite all of her efforts beforehand, she had never really managed to figure out what she wanted to swear, but somehow doing it as a stream of consciousness felt significantly more proper than something carefully planned. Xaoc was, after all, the God of Chaos. The words rang true to her in a way nothing she had rehearsed ever had. And she wasn¡¯t even slightly surprised when¡­ [*ding!* You have made the pact [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc]! Would you like to accept this General Skill? WARNING: Pacts are binding.] [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc]: He offered you a second chance, and you have pledged yourself anew to live it in His service. Go forth and spread chaos while you watch over those who follow similar paths! Reduces mana costs for Mirror class skills by 50%. Further reduces mana costs by an additional 0.01% per level. This skill does not affect the mana regen costs of passive skills. -1037 Mana Regen Rate. Defying this pact has severe consequences.] She accepted the new skill with barely another thought. The words fit her wishes and desires perfectly. No, the words embodied who she was. And to get a boost from her own beliefs? That was a wonderful added bonus! She was barred from becoming a [Paladin], but she still served. In her own way.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 12]
[Mana: 3340/3340]
[Mana Regen Rate: 419]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 0]
[Strength: 11]
[Dexterity: 144]
[Vitality: 248]
[Speed: 29]
[Mana: 334]
[Mana Regeneration: 253]
[Magic Power: 409]
[Magic Control: 268]
[Class 1: [Reflection of Chaos ¨C Mirror (32)]]
[Mirror Affinity: 32]
[Image of Self: 32]
-
[Spell Reworking: 32]
[Twisted Images: 32]
-
-
-
[Class 2: [Knife in the ¨C Dark (8)]]
[Dark Affinity: 1]
[Knives & War: 8]
[Shadowed Strike: 1]
-
-
-
-
-
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 32]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 1]
-
[Dodging: 32]
[Boosted Reflexes: 32]
[Fast Learner: 32]
[Silent Steps: 32]
[Cute: 32]
Book 1 - Chapter 12 - Violence Visited The next day, while Tatius fussily tended to Ranthia¡¯s wounds¡ªthey were fine!¡ªRanthia explained her plans further, while Pupius¡¯ gaze bounced around the room desperately trying to avoid her partially undressed form. ¡­Not the stuff about Xaoc and the [Paladin] she had once been, that was private. But she finally told them about the truth of her build goals. She told them that her goal was to achieve [Mirror Spirit] and always have an escape route from danger. The response was¡­ not what she was expecting. Neither man had heard of an elemental spirit skill. In fact, she learned that neither of them had heard of the prior tiers for the affinity skills either. ¡°The elemental affinity skill is the most basic level there is. Advancing affinity skills isn¡¯t easy, but I can¡¯t believe you¡¯ve never heard of it. Affinity, authority, mastery, then spirit.¡± Ranthia explained. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I don¡¯t believe you kid, but¡­¡± Pupius was usually all about eye contact when he spoke to someone, so it was kind of funny to watch him squirm as he fought against his instincts. ¡°Hold still.¡± Tatius admonished her while he dressed her wounds. Ranthia sighed. That was the problem with keeping the whole ¡®so yeah, funny story, I¡¯ve died once¡¯ thing under wraps. Neither man knew where she pulled her unusual sources of System information from. Neither had asked either. If she was lucky, they¡¯d assume she had received it from Xaoc, which was close enough to the truth. She¡¯d also accept that she¡¯d learned it from the Rangers; the men knew that she¡¯d kinda half-stalked them back in Perinthus. If she was unlucky, they were assuming that she got it from an unreliable source. Worst case, they might even assume that she was merely guessing. She needed them to believe in her plan. She needed them to believe in her. Rumors got weird. A city destroyed by a volcano, except supposedly two Sentinels somehow stopped the destruction. Absurd on its face. When rumors came that the formorians had overrun the Legions, Tatius and Pupius outright laughed. They had seen the defenses and didn¡¯t believe them for a second. Then rumors claimed that the formorians had been annihilated. Tatius and Pupius also found that unlikely, but it was impossible to miss that the men became¡­ nervous. Two different sets of major news out of the eternal war seemed ominous, even if they were contradictory. When news¡ªmultiple confirmed reports¡ªof the legions marching through Remus broke, the trio were forced to abandon their current job. They bought passage on a ship and circumnavigated the Nostrum to avoid whatever was happening. It was nothing good. Then the weirdest rumor yet spawned. The Night of the Flickering Moons, they called it. Some people swore the moons disappeared. Others claimed they changed color, and while accounts varied a bit about what colors they had turned¡­ these seemed to be the majority of the rumors. Ranthia personally didn¡¯t believe them, no matter how many men and women had claimed to see it for themselves. Ranthia, Tatius, and Pupius had been sound asleep, indoors, when the alleged night occurred. There were even rumors that the red on the moons had been powerful moon monsters that gathered and fell to Pallos! Ranthia loved Pallos¡¯ gorgeous moons and was, honestly, more than a little annoyed at their disparagement. It was almost as offensive as that damn bard song she heard all too often about Perinthus¡¯ plagues that never mentioned the Ranger [Healer] that had saved them all! Worthless minstrels. Ranthia¡¯s chaos-granted knowledge from¡ªpresumably¡ªher prior life had major holes in it. She had no idea what formorians were until she learned from Tatius and Pupius. No one knew what an elf was, yet Ranthia¡¯s knowledge insisted that they should be around and were somehow distinctive and impossible to miss. She had sickened herself on poisonous mushrooms a couple of years ago because she just knew they were edible, despite Tatius¡¯ insistence that they were not. She had no knowledge that might have explained the alleged Night of the Flickering Moons (the rumor just refused to quit). And just last season she had faced a rough lesson because she hadn¡¯t known that velociraptors liked to leap at their prey to attack. Nearly five years of walking Pallos as Ranthia helped. Tatius and Pupius were fonts of wisdom that she had long since drained of basically all useful information and lessons. Life taught her more as well. And so, her menarche was something she had, conceptually, known about. Not from her prior knowledge or anything that Tatius and Pupius had proffered, but from things she had overheard or¡ªin rare cases¡ªbeen outright asked about in Remus. It was not something she was prepared for, when it, quite auspiciously, struck 8 days before her 13th birthday. ¡°Xaoc, I love you, but puberty was a mistake.¡± It was a comment that promised to escape her lips often over the next few years. Never in prayers, but she was sure Xaoc heard her either way. Not that He apologized. Once puberty got its claws into her, Ranthia felt like she was in a never-ending growth spurt. The scrawny, malnourished child she had once been was all but gone. Ranthia was lean and fit, and she was already taller than even some of the boys around her own age. Yet her body continued to grow and change almost literally every single day. Tatius started to treat her differently. He still bought her sweets for her birthday, but there were dozens of little changes. He had less patience with her when she was childish. He shielded her from the world a little less. He, with extreme awkwardness, attempted to give her a lecture about sex and pregnancy, which she hurriedly circumvented and escaped. Then, one day, when Pupius recommended a man hunt mission, Tatius hesitated, but he didn¡¯t refuse. By the time the trio listened to the litany of crimes that the man was accused of, their blood boiled. The rogue classer had entered one of those tiny villages that dotted Remus, the sort that no one bothered to record on a map since the settlements were often abandoned or overrun by monsters. He had set himself up as a king there and abused the population until the town was left empty. Only a single traumatized old man was left to speak of the fiend¡¯s deeds. He was either an Earth or a Metal [Mage]. Level estimates put him in the low two hundreds, which meant that¡ªin theory¡ªat least Tatius out-levelled him. Tatius had crossed the level 256 class up recently in his first class. Pupius had fallen a bit behind, with his preference for minimizing the risk when he made his attacks. Grim-faced, the men accepted the job. To their credit, the men had only recommended that Ranthia remain behind once. They accepted her refusal and incorporated her into their plans. They made sixteen different plans, two of which Ranthia contributed, depending on their mark¡¯s reactions and the terrain. He was easy enough to track. He had dragged bulky furniture and other loot from the empty, bloodstained village, which left a clear trail. The Adventurer¡¯s Guild only had a crack at this mission because no Ranger team was in the vicinity. The powers that be in the region wanted the man eliminated for his crimes before he struck anywhere else and, ultimately, Adventurers were more likely to get the job done than a force of guards sent into the woods. This wasn¡¯t what guards were trained to do. But it was what Adventurers were born to do. They just had to race the messenger that was dispatched to seek Rangers or one of the nigh-mythical Sentinels. It was nearly nightfall before they found the villain¡¯s camp. He had set up an oversized tent atop a hill, which was normally a solid idea, but he hadn¡¯t had the sense to clear away the trees or thick undergrowth that surrounded the hill. He had made it trivial for someone to sneak up on him. They simply waited in the woods until dark had fallen, then moved closer. Plan #3 was their cleanest plan, and they couldn¡¯t believe it was actually going to work. They got within range and Tatius had strung his seldom used bow. Ranthia was so sure that something was going to go wrong. Some trap. Some defense. No one was stupid enough to leave themselves that vulnerable. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Yet their target walked out to the side of the hill. Tatius loosed the arrow. [*ding!* Your allies have slain a [Ripping Stones] (Earth, level 219), [Master of Men] (Earth, level 173)!] ¡°Well, that was anti-climactic!¡± Pupius called out as he stood. Only for Tatius to shout a curse and lunge forward while he threw his bow aside and grabbed, desperately, for his shield. The world felt like it moved in slow motion as Ranthia, still crouched in the underbrush, watched several small projectiles¡ªstones or balls of metal¡ªstrike Tatius¡¯ armor. Blood flew from wounds before he got his shield in place. ¡°Move!¡± Tatius bellowed. He was covering Ranthia first and foremost. Ranthia cursed and moved. Pupius was already gone; he was far faster than she was. And he had the sense to know that he was in the way. Ranthia was nowhere near as slow as she had once been, but even Tatius still had more speed than she did. Not that he could use it. Instead, he backed away slowly, behind his shield, while she made her escape. Haunted by the sounds of nonstop pings and dings from Tatius¡¯ shield and armor. Sharp stones and metal balls ripped through the woodlands around them, sending up a spray of splinters and shrapnel that pelted them both. But, at last, Ranthia made it back to the tree line and got behind a large tree. Pupius was behind another nearby. Tatius found his own, where he nearly collapsed, gasping for air. Gods, he was hurt! She couldn¡¯t even tell how bad it was between the gloom and the ongoing barrage! Pupius made a sound, which finally drew her attention to him. His hands moved. They didn¡¯t have any sort of language established for silent communication, but some gesticulations were unmistakable. Two more targets. He was going to go for them. He invited her to join him. Ranthia was on the cusp of refusal. She was terrified. They needed to get out of there, they needed to check on Tatius! The job was fucked, there should never have been three [Mages]! But escape wasn¡¯t an option. Not really. The [Mages] showed no sign of stopping their barrage. Tatius was down, and she wasn¡¯t even sure if he could get back up. He needed them. He needed her. She wasn¡¯t going to abandon him, not after everything he had done for her. What had even gotten into her? She was no coward. She wanted to live, yes, but she was a survivor. Survivors faced danger and overcame it. A [Mage]¡¯s barrage might be deadly, but she had her own tools. Ranthia steeled herself and nodded to Pupius. Trying to strategize in the dark¡ªthe crescents of the moons offered only some light¡ªwithout words was just stupid. Instead, nearly immediately, Pupius and Ranthia silently decided to trust one another and adapt off of each other. Ranthia made the first move. [Image of Self] to make it look like they broke cover and tried to run for another tree. Some of the images were shredded by stones¡ªdreadfully quickly¡ªbut after repeated uses of the skill she finally had the barrage aimed away from where they were. How on Pallos were they still going? Small rocks and metal balls were cheap to conjure, but¡­ Ranthia drank one of her pricy mana potions¡ªgods and goddesses those tasted foul¡ªand slipped out from her hiding place and moved. [Silent Steps] had been a part of her General Skills for ages, something to allow her to sneak around while her decoys drew attention. The skill wasn¡¯t quite as helpful with thick foliage, but that was what her dexterity was for. ¡­That and a bit of care. Ranthia still sent out images to distract them while she moved, until at long last her line of sight was broken. The barrage continued to tear apart the vegetation where she had last sent an image, but they were on a timer at that point. Ranthia started up the hill, only to have to fight down an urge to scream when Pupius suddenly showed up next to her. Bloody speedsters! Together they moved up the hill while Ranthia tried her best to pretend that she wasn¡¯t completely certain that he was moving with her for a dreadful purpose. He intended to sacrifice himself if they were caught, it was the only reason he had to match her pace and stay just ahead of her. When they crested the hill, they finally separated to circle the multi-person tent that the trio of killers had established. Their targets had kept a bit of distance between them, so they could spread their barrages out a bit. They knew they were against more than one opponent, though they presumably had no idea just how many. Ranthia¡¯s heart hammered in her chest as her target came into view. He was in his late 30¡¯s, short, plump, and covered in perspiration. His blond hair was long and wavy. He looked like any number of commoners that aspired to pretend to be wealthy, men she saw almost daily inside any city of decent size. [Mage] in that awkward shade of red that wasn¡¯t quite pale nor bright red, a healthy pink. Level 204, her familiarity with the color spectrum told her. Well over twice her level, with her first class at level 74. If he saw her, she knew that there probably wasn¡¯t anything that she could do. She¡¯d just die. So, she moved slowly and carefully. She crossed past a fire where meat roasted¡ªnow overcooked and charring¡ªand wove around chairs. She reached his back and hesitated while she tried to plan the best way to attack a taller adversary. 49 strength wasn¡¯t enough that she was willing to go for the heart; she wasn¡¯t guaranteed to pierce through the ribs unless she aimed perfectly. She only had one shot. [*ding!* Your allies have slain a [Aspiring Artillery Mage] (Earth, level 187), [Metal Murderer] (Metal, level 237)!] Her adversary started to turn, drawn by the wet gurgle and sound of his friend collapsing. Ranthia struck. Her left knife, encased in [Shadowed Strike]¡¯s shadows, came around him and slashed inwards toward his throat, even as she thrust her other knife into his kidneys. Desperately she willed the shadows to be sharp and to erase. The biggest problem with killing a [Mage]? If you only mortally wounded them, most [Mages] could dump the last of their mana into a final effort to take their killer with them. Pupius had told her as much, long ago. Tatius more recently. And her own Xaoc-blessed knowledge even told her as much. Yet there she was, rolling the dice as a 13-year-old. The [Mage] howled when her knife pierced his side. Then her other knife tore through his throat in as savage a blow as she could inflict. His head stayed on. It wasn¡¯t enough! The man whirled to face her, his face a mask of brutality that promised death, even as his lifeblood flowed down his pretty green toga. The man witnessed his killer. A young girl, barely a teenager. And he hesitated, just for a moment. [*ding!* You have slain a [Pierce the Heavens] (Metal, level 204), [A Follower with Fangs] (Earth, level 161)!] An instant later, before Ranthia had even had time to parse her victim¡¯s classes, Pupius¡¯ blades took the man¡¯s head. Ranthia grumbled at Tatius as she struggled to bandage his wounds. The normally tough and stalwart man squirmed and whined as she roughly applied the poultices that they had bought before the mission and then he managed to outright writhe as she tried to tighten the bandages. Normally she enjoyed teasing him about how bad his pain tolerance was after a job was completed, but the process of trying to treat wounds on the man was ridiculous. He could take a hit with barely a grunt of acknowledgement, but as soon as the battle was done, he started to whine. He wasn¡¯t even bad with lingering pain, but there were children that were better about letting their injuries be dressed! She had been one of them. ¡°You could have taken that [Field Medicine] skill you were offered.¡± Tatius grumbled. His wound wasn¡¯t terrible, not only would he live but he wouldn¡¯t even be down for more than a week or two¡ªprobably less given how stubborn he was¡ªbut his pride obviously was devastated even worse than his armor, with how he moped. ¡°Sorry, not dropping [Silent Steps] until my class up.¡± Ranthia retorted. Ranthia finally finished with the bandages¡ªnot her best work, but at least the wound was bound¡ªand stood up with a grin¡­ only to blink as Tatius suddenly seized her by the shoulders and looked meaningfully into her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry that we had to make you do that.¡± The man whispered with an intense expression. ¡°¡­What? Decoys and sneakiness are my specialty! Don¡¯t worry about it, I was fine.¡± Ranthia tried to wave her personal guardian off, extremely weirded out by the sudden intensity. She carefully left out how easily the [Mage] that she killed could have taken her out too. If he hadn¡¯t hesitated¡ªor been surprised, whatever had stayed his hand¡ªshe would have been killed. Despite her earlier cowardice, oddly the brush with death just didn¡¯t bother her much. She accepted her mistake and vowed to do better next time. It was as simple as that. Probably. ¡°You¡¯re still so young. We should never have ended up in a situation where you had to kill someone, not so soon. I am so, so sorry for forcing that upon you.¡± Ranthia blinked, thrown off. She hadn¡¯t even considered it, but¡­ that was the first time she had killed a human herself. ¡­At least in her current lifetime. She had seen Tatius and Pupius take lives a couple of times, but she had never really considered the obvious explanation for how much Tatius had tried to shy away from jobs that might require killing. She¡¯d assumed it was a personal distaste on his part. In deference to him, Ranthia allowed herself to take a moment and consider whether or not she was bothered¡­ And she wasn¡¯t. For whatever reason she felt certain that she had killed before in her past life¡ªnot that she remembered ever doing so¡ªand she was absolutely certain that these men needed killing. Each had some of the features the old man had described, so clearly all three of them had been involved in those horrors. Pallos was far better off without them. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I¡¯ve known for years that I¡¯d take a life someday. Besides, those men were baaaarely human at best.¡± Ranthia finally replied, with a grin. Tatius sighed, but he nodded and accepted her answer. Finally, he released her shoulders, which was definitely a mercy thanks to the force he was using. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s hard to believe how mature you can be. You¡¯re not the scrawny child we first inherited, not anymore.¡± He muttered. ¡°It¡¯s getting easier to tell she¡¯s matured; I mean she almost has tits these days. Sort of, at least!¡± Pupius called out. Pupius was returning from investigating their camp. Most of the goods were bulky¡ªand stolen¡ªso they intended to leave them for the guards to recover. None of them were exactly optimistic that any of it would end up delivered to the next of kin of those [Mages]¡¯ victims, but it was the best course of action that they had. And, well, that way who¡¯s going to know if a few of the smaller bits went missing? Ranthia was busy presenting him with a middle finger for his comment about her¡­ development. He, as usual, wholly ignored it. ¡°Well, that explains their barrage. Turned out there was a big solid chunk of arcanite under a blanket in their camp, right between where they stood.¡± Pupius grumbled. Naked greed alighted within Ranthia. ¡°Did you¡­?¡± She asked with no small amount of glee. ¡°No way, the thing weighed a ton. It¡¯d even weigh down tall and turtle-y here.¡± Pupius replied, before he flopped down. That was too bad. Arcanite was special because the mineral naturally gathered¡ªor maybe generated¡ªmana. Anyone could attune themselves to arcanite and absorb mana from it, which meant that it effectively served as backup mana pools. It was the best option around. Mana potions, theoretically, filled a similar niche but their effectiveness was completely worse. But they were considerably cheaper than a decent sized arcanite stone. The larger the piece of arcanite, the more mana it held. Bizarrely, even if you cracked a stone perfectly in half, each half would provide far less than half the mana. Which meant that the tiny flecks of arcanite that Ranthia could actually afford were of no interest. She sighed, maybe someday. Book 1 - Chapter 13 - Sudden Success ¡°So, you¡¯ve memorized the name of the town we¡¯re traveling to?¡± Tatius asked, and not for the first time, while the trio wandered down the road. The roads out in this part of Remus tended to get a bit wild. There were still ruts where wagons and convoys traveled through, but traffic was minimal enough along the roads that nature struggled to reclaim them. Major roads got paved with stones. Nothing was major out in these wilds. No one had even sprung for fresh gravel in a very long time, it seemed. ¡°Jiaguo.¡± Ranthia answered after visible hesitation. ¡°Impressive, a couple of the sounds were almost right.¡± Pupius sneered. ¡°Sardonia.¡± Tatius repeated once again. ¡°Seriously, how is she so bad at this? I mean, I thought it was a bit for years!¡± Pupius complained. The town¡ªwhatever it was called¡ªwas on the outer fringe of Remus¡¯ territory, butted up against some badlands that were generally considered impassable. It was a long ways removed from other towns or significant transport routes. There was only one reason it existed: the mines that were located a short distance further into the badlands. The companies that owned the mines had a camp dedicated to that, but in the first decent patch of space on the way from the mines they decided to build a mining town. Supposedly the companies periodically tried to lure immigrants and businesses in, but the town was minor enough that it was barely on any maps in spite of its age. They were traveling there for her sake, as odd as it sounded. Shortly after she had classed up her second class to [Sudden End], a sneakier class that finally gave her a proper Dark attack, Ranthia rushed to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild to tell Tatius and Pupius and, instead, ended up trapped in conversation with the Guildmaster. It had been tedious in the extreme, but the man did share one fascinating nugget of information. The Guildmaster of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in¡­ er, their destination town, had once been the Guildmaster of Ariminum and in charge of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild as a whole before he retired to a quieter post. He was supposedly progressive and cared more about merits than the letters of rules. In other words, it was the best shot she had at finally getting recognized as an official Adventurer and getting her own rank. She wanted to make a solid first impression, thus she was trying to memorize the name of the town so she could address him by his proper title. ¡°This is so much further than it looked. You¡¯re lucky we like you, kid.¡± Pupius groused. Ranthia rolled her eyes. The men had practically salivated at the chance to go to an out of the way, largely forgotten place. Whatever was going on in Remus wasn¡¯t looking good. Town criers claimed that Remus was no longer a Republic¡ªwhatever that meant¡ªand it had an Emperor now. There was unrest. There were people making dark mutterings about some nonspecific part of their life being upheaved. There were rumors of active rebellions. Ranthia, of course, chose not to remind the man of that while they prepared to set out for yet another day on the road. ¡°I¡¯m already taller than you are, so you should lay off the ¡®kid¡¯. It just makes you look small.¡± Ranthia quipped instead. Why make rational points when she could start problems instead? Tatius just looked exhausted as he led the trio. Ranthia was still nursing a split lip, but she¡¯d actually managed to give Pupius what had to be a nice bruise across his back when he overcommitted to a punch that she¡¯d managed to evade. They had enough sense to not arm themselves to brawl, but the scuffle was sort of a language of affection for them. Pupius had never really acted like a father figure to Ranthia¡ªnot even during the brief time that the two men had attempted to date, in deference to the situation they found themselves in because of her¡ªand she appreciated the immersion into the culture of Adventurers. Now that she was older, Pupius was all too happy to treat her as a proper party member. As an equal. Tatius was exhausted, but Ranthia and Pupius were animatedly discussing their not-a-spar. Then, after another bend in the road, they found themselves in view of Sardonia¡¯s walls. It wasn¡¯t the tallest or most impressive set of walls that she had seen, but the logs harvested from the surrounding woodlands with sharpened points were practical in their own way. The gates were shut, but even from there they could see the gong and the large pictographs that illustrated striking the gong and the gates opening. ¡°Guess they don¡¯t get enough visitors to warrant posting guards at the gate.¡± Ranthia commented. ¡°I¡¯m just focused on how wide these walls are. Isn¡¯t this supposed to be a small town?¡± Pupius replied. That¡­ was a good point. Sardonia¡¯s walls stretched far. They had walled off a decent city¡¯s worth of territory, yet everything they had heard suggested that the town had¡ªat best¡ª128 people, give or take. It was a strange incongruity. ¡°Could we have missed the city and found the mining outpost?¡± Tatius asked. ¡°No way, look at the terrain. We¡¯re still in the flat area, this matches how¡­¡± Ranthia grasped, she failed. ¡°¡­the town was described. The mining outpost isn¡¯t on flat land.¡± ¡°Sardonia.¡± Pupius reminded her. ¡°Right, Sarconia.¡± Ranthia reminded herself. ¡°Closer, but swing and a miss.¡± Pupius muttered. Tatius groaned aloud and put on a bit of speed, bound for the gong. He was determined to get them into the town before Ranthia and Pupius managed to start something again. Ranthia and Pupius wisely chose to drop their fight before it began and followed. The gong echoed through the morning air. The trio waited as its echoes slowly faded away. Just before Ranthia¡ªthe most impatient member of their party¡ªdecided to strike it again, they heard the sounds of the gate being unbarred. The gates opened partially before a wary guard poked his head out and eyed the trio. ¡°Purpose of visit?¡± He asked. ¡°Adventurers, bound for Sardonia.¡± Tatius answered, while gesturing Ranthia back. She and guards just didn¡¯t get along very well, she was the first to admit it. It was instinctive. They mistrusted her and she tended to run out of patience swiftly with people that cared more about the structure of rules than they did the effects those rules had when enforced without conscious thought. ¡°What¡¯s your ranking?¡± The guard asked. That wasn¡¯t a standard question. It caught all three of them off-guard for a moment, before Tatius answered. ¡°Both I and the gentleman next to me are B-Ranked, my daughter is currently unranked.¡± Honestly, the sooner Ranthia bore her own rank the better. Ranthia¡¯s face had absolutely zero resemblance to Tatius¡¯ now that she had further matured. They always got a strange look when he introduced her as his daughter, at least when the other party was paying any attention whatsoever. Children that took after one parent for the most part weren¡¯t unheard of, but the total lack of resemblance had grown too pronounced to ignore. Ranthia could usually shut up anyone that made their doubt plain enough if she beamed brightly and boasted that she took after her mother, before she twisted her face into a sad and faraway look. ¡­Which was easy, she just had to think of her real mother; the woman¡¯s rejection still hurt, even after so many years. Still, she was ready to be done with the need to explain her presence. The guard¡¯s gaze swept to Ranthia and¡ªafter the all too customary dip down to check for curves that her cloak completely hid¡ªseemed to focus on her split lip that still leaked a little blood. ¡°There was a bear.¡± Ranthia blurted out, having gone with the first excuse her mind came up with. ¡°A bear.¡± The guard echoed. ¡°Yup, but it won¡¯t trouble the area anymore.¡± Ranthia continued smoothly, without a hint of hesitation. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The man eyed her for several long moments before he sighed. It was one of those sighs that just radiated the fact that he wasn¡¯t paid enough to deal with this nonsense. ¡°She needs to cast something to satisfy the rules, then come on in.¡± The guard announced, before he pulled his head back inside and started to push the gate open wide enough to admit them. Ranthia conjured two [Images] and dismissed them before she followed the men in, grateful to have a guard that clearly wasn¡¯t an absolute stickler for the letter of the rules. There was no grand ¡®Welcome to Sardonia,¡¯ just a vast array of empty houses and boarded up businesses. Clearly the business interests that, for all practical purposes, owned the town had delusions of extreme grandeur. The town was sprawling, with prebuilt facilities both grand and humble. And only its centermost space was more than sparsely in use. The Adventurer¡¯s Guild was easy enough to find. The Guildmaster wasn¡¯t available, but they learned that the adjacent building was also owned by the guild and provided housing at a fair rate for Adventurers. ¡­Actually, a downright generous rate, to Ranthia¡¯s reckoning. The Guildmaster¡¯s husband owned the inn and either he or their boyfriend could be found in the attached tavern selling warm food and alcohol any time it was open. Tatius and Pupius sprang for two rooms, and they settled into Sardonia. After an incident with a door that hadn¡¯t been latched as well as Ranthia had thought, Tatius made the executive decision to get Ranthia her own room. In her defense, she had assumed the men were staying in the tavern and hadn¡¯t noticed that Tatius had left his coin purse in the room. And, well, puberty hit hard and her interest in women was no longer abstract. Ranthia was certain that the Guildmaster was testing her. For days now, Tatius and Pupius had announced new jobs and then acted strangely deferential to her. They acted with her plans. They encouraged her to take more aggressive roles. She enjoyed the experience¡ªand the levels¡ªbut the men weren¡¯t quite as subtle as they seemed to think. Then she was granted a few unofficial little tasks. She scouted for signs of goblins that one of the miners claimed he had seen. She was trusted to find some herbs on her own. A few little patrols. Ranthia was a bit over halfway through her 14th year of life. She had reached level 124 in her first class, driven mostly by her use of her magic to distract the two [Mages] which had given them a chance to kill the duo. The System loved nothing more than a deadly clash between people, it seemed. Her second class had languished a bit while she assisted the men, though the recent days had brought it up to 76. And she was invited to roam out and level until she was ready to class up. [Megaraptor] was what [Identify] reported¡ªafter a strange delay¡ªand it was level 157 given its pale red hue. The dinosaur was taller than she was¡ªthough not by too much, at least while its head was down¡ªand she was giving serious consideration to whether she wanted to take it on. The light breeze shifted oh-so-slightly, and suddenly the decision was made for her when the dino spun to face the bush she was behind, snarling. She really missed having comparatively little body odor when she was younger. [Shadowed Steps]¡ªher former [Silent Steps] had evolved into a directly superior Class Skill¡ªdidn¡¯t help when things could smell her! [Image of Self] sent an image of her next to the bush. [Image Anima], which she gained back at level 96, had made her images match her breathing and allowed the image to move when coupled with [Twisted Images]. The dinosaur followed the image, with its eyes, then turned toward it and charged. Ranthia moved while she was out of the dinosaur¡¯s line of sight. [Shadowed Steps] kept it from hearing her movement. The first image dissolved as soon as the dinosaur snapped at it. But Ranthia had already sent out a second, which she used to reposition the beast. [Sudden End] wasn¡¯t quite the same class [Knives in the] had been. The evolved class encouraged a single, devastating strike. Rather than distracting or misdirecting her opponents, it gave her lethality. [Blades of Darkness] coated her blades in Dark, not to conceal, but to erase material that she cut. [Critical Strike] helped her find vulnerabilities, even where she had less familiarity with the anatomy of her foe. Ranthia allowed her skills to guide her. Three images were created to distract her adversary, and she made her strike, clean into its side. She received some sort of notification, but it wasn¡¯t a kill notification. Ranthia hurriedly silenced non-kill notifications while she shifted to the side and left an image where she was¡ªan image that the dinosaur promptly attempted to eat. The only problem was that it spun in the opposite direction from what she had expected, and she had the tail coming straight at her. Ranthia made a snap judgment and decided to cleave her knives in a crossed slash while she activated [Blades of Darkness] again. The impact nearly wrenched her left knife out of her grasp, but she managed to sever the dinosaur¡¯s tail. It¡ªunsurprisingly¡ªnoticed that and went straight for her, but she dodged and wove around the snaps of its mouth while she backed hurriedly away. A final image, manifested beside the dinosaur, distracted it while Ranthia hurriedly grabbed two bottles of mana potions, bit the wax that sealed the fragile clay vessels off, and downed their contents. She had gotten dangerously low on mana. The dinosaur was fixated on her again and she knew that it would be harder to distract from there on. It had locked onto her and wouldn¡¯t give her up easily. For a brief time, Ranthia fought as a proper [Warrior]. She dodged and countered, inflicting shallow cuts across her opponent¡¯s head. She wanted it used to how she fought, she wanted to establish a pattern. After all, the easiest way to deal with a beast was to make it expect one thing and then do something else, especially if she managed to make it angry enough. Finally, her instincts told her it was time. The dinosaur had just reared back from another miss, wary of her knives. So, instead, she created images on either side of its head, point blank. Just as she hoped¡ªshe had plans for other movements, but it truly was the ideal act¡ªthe dinosaur reared back and raised its head. Ranthia wasted no time closing in and lashed out with two clean strikes across its neck with [Blades of Darkness], guided by [Critical Strike], then made a follow-up pair of slashes while she backed away. The beast was too stupid to realize that every breath it heaved flowed out of the gash in its neck. Every move it made forced more of its lifeblood from its body. Ranthia dodged the beast as it made several attacks in retribution until, at last, it slowed enough that she was able to put it out of its misery. [*ding!* You have slain a [Megaraptor] (Wood, level 157)!] ¡°My proverbial empire for arcanite.¡± Ranthia grumbled when she checked her remaining mana. The sound of clapping drew her gaze and Ranthia was more than a little annoyed to see Pupius standing a short distance away. ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence.¡± She groused. ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t butt in, did I?¡± He replied with a smirk. Ranthia ignored him and checked her suppressed notifications. [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has reached level 46!] Then, after the dinosaur died¡­ [*ding!* Congratulations! [Reflection of Chaos] has leveled from 124 to level 128! Per level: +1 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +1 Speed, +4 Mana, +4 Mana Regeneration, +4 Magic Power, +4 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration and +1 Magic Power from your element.] [*ding!* [Mirror Affinity], [Image of Self], and [Twisted Images] have leveled from 124 to level 128!] [*ding!* [Image Anima] has leveled from 43 to level 49!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Sudden End] has leveled from 76 to level 79! Per level: +5 Strength, +11 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +7 Speed, +2 Mana Regeneration, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana from your element.] [*ding!* [Dark Affinity], [Knives & War], [Blades of Darkness], and [Shadowed Steps] have leveled from 76 to level 79!] [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has reached level 47!] [*ding!* [Identify], [Dodging], and [Boosted Reflexes] have leveled from 124 to level 128!] ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± Pupius asked. It was kind of impossible to miss when someone¡¯s eyes unfocused while they read notifications. ¡°I think [Critical Strike] is sulking that I didn¡¯t manage to kill it in one hit. Only got a single level out of the skill.¡± Ranthia replied in a lilting tone that suggested that she knew well that she wasn¡¯t answering the real question. ¡°Skills that have moods are the worst, my condolences. But seriously¡­?¡± ¡°Ready to class up!¡± Ranthia replied with a broad grin. Ranthia and Pupius butchered the dinosaur and hauled its meat and useful parts back to town before he waved her off to hit her room and class up. [Soups & Stews] wasn¡¯t going to get many levels while they lived in Sardonia, the Guildmaster¡¯s family were excellent cooks and were all too happy to buy ingredients from the local Adventurers. Ranthia just doffed her leather cloak and snuggled into her bed in her room¡ªwhich was still so nice after years spent sharing a room with at least one man¡ªbefore she triggered her class up and fell into the world within herself after a brief prayer to Xaoc. Ranthia looked her older self in the eye and handed the guide her current Mirror class, hilt first. ¡°As far down the Affinity line as I can get, without sacrificing the class¡¯s purpose.¡± Ranthia requested. She wasn¡¯t nervous. Completely not. She definitely wasn¡¯t trying to keep her breathing calm while her guide puttered around the colorful arsenal. She wasn¡¯t at all terrified that she¡¯d get another class that was a bare upgrade, probably red, and still had [Mirror Affinity]. Gods, even Sardonia¡¯s Guildmaster was nowhere close to unlocking his third class! Why was she so sure there were levels beyond 512? How did her former self know so much? Was it literally just god given knowledge? Was it all just¡­ ¡°And how in Xaoc¡¯s name did you manage this?¡± Her guide sounded almost accusatory as she set down the short sword with the orange-wrapped hilt. Ranthia was snapped out of her introspection and quirked an eyebrow at her inner self. Slowly, she reached for the blade that was the path forward from [Reflection of Chaos ¨C Mirror]. Almost immediately she gasped and released the blade with a start when she realized what had prompted the question. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s no mistake, right?¡± Ranthia asked, almost breathlessly. Her guide shook her head, as both aspects of herself stared at the representation for the class for a long moment. Ranthia then was seized by impatience and snatched the blade up eagerly. She had to see this in the real world, because her goals were no longer something she had to aspire to in the future. She sheathed the sword, without even the courtesy to say another word to her guide, and ran for the exit. [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror]. Their senses tell them you are everywhere, now it simply becomes true. +1 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +2 Speed, +7 Mana, +9 Mana Regeneration, +7 Magic Power, +7 Magic Control per level. By what had to be a boon from the hands of Xaoc, her goals had come to pass. Somehow her level 128 class up jumped her all of the way to [Mirror Spirit], she had bypassed Authority and Mastery entirely! Ranthia completely missed it when her guide turned back to the armory. The surprisingly colorful armory. Colors far beyond mere orange or yellow were present. ¡°Seriously, what did you do?¡± The guide asked pointlessly, shortly before she and her world faded from existence. Book 1 - Chapter 14 - Adventurer I Ranthia woke up with her heart hammering in her chest. It was real, wasn¡¯t it? [*ding!* Congratulations! You have upgraded your first class ¨C [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (128)]!] Yes, yes, very good, whatever! Ranthia ignored the rest of the notifications, aside from where it was necessary to accept or reject new skills, and pulled up her sheet. She was impatient and very near trembling with how electrified her nerves were.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 14]
[Mana: 8760/8760]
[Mana Regen Rate: 3434]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 2]
[Strength: 269]
[Dexterity: 1049]
[Vitality: 554]
[Speed: 552]
[Mana: 876]
[Mana Regeneration: 864]
[Magic Power: 846]
[Magic Control: 618]
[Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (129)]]
[Mirror Spirit: 129]
[Scattered Reflections: 129]
[Echoes Reflected: 1]
[Reflective Motility: 1]
[Persistent Imagery: 1]
[Mirrored Moves: 1]
[A Looking Glass: 1]
[Reflections of Reality: 1]
[Class 2: [Sudden End ¨C Dark (79)]]
[Dark Affinity: 79]
[Knives & War: 79]
[Blades of Darkness: 79]
[Critical Strike: 47]
[Shadowed Steps: 79]
-
-
-
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 129]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 39]
[Soups & Stews: 63]
[Dodging: 129]
[Boosted Reflexes: 129]
[Fast Learner: 68]
[Crafting Traps & Alarms: 11]
[Cute: 49]
[Mirror Spirit]: You embody Mirror to the extent your soul has practically become reflective. A perfectly clear connection has been established between the element and your skills. Additional resistance to Mirror aspected abilities. Minor sense for Mirror classes and Mirror skills around you. Increased Mana Regeneration when immersed within all that is Mirror. [Scattered Reflections]: Create a perfect Mirror image of yourself in any pose or position you want. Your images will react realistically to wind and other weather, though extreme weather may cause the image to break. The maximum range and maximum number of images that can be simultaneously created increases with level. [Echoes Reflected]: You¡¯re able to speak through a Mirror image. Complexity, length, and clarity of spoken words increase with level. [Reflective Motility]: Mirror images can be moved and adjusted. The percentage of your dexterity and strength that the images can reflect increases with level. [Persistent Imagery]: Mirror images take slightly more punishment without breaking. The percentage of your vitality that the images reflect increases with level. [Mirrored Moves]: Allows Mirror images to duplicate other skills you possess. No actual elemental or skill effects will occur, only the skill¡¯s appearance will be mirrored. Efficiency and accuracy of recreation increase with level. [A Looking Glass]: See through the eyes of your Mirror image. Maximum duration and clarity increase with level. [Reflections of Reality]: A Mirror image of your choice becomes your real body, while your former body becomes a mere Mirror image left where and as you were. All items on your person will be transferred, to an extent. This swap is permanent and will not be automatically reverted. Swaps become faster and range increases with level. [Blades of Darkness]: Apply darkness along the blades of any bladed weaponry you wield to erase that which you cut. Potency increases with level. [Critical Strike]: You have an eye for weak points, exploit them. -436 Mana Regen Rate. [Shadowed Steps]: Your steps are quieter as darkness erases sound. At increased levels, traces that you leave may be partially erased. -672 Mana Regen Rate. [Soups & Stews]: You enjoy nothing more than a warm soup or stew, whether on the road or at an inn. Now make them edible. [Crafting Traps & Alarms]: Perimeter alarms and hunting snares are the nicest things you can do with a little time and some materials. It had to be a boon from Xaoc. Her goals had¡­ come to pass, in full. Somehow her level 128 class up jumped her all of the way to [Mirror Spirit], she had bypassed Authority and Mastery entirely! Before she ever opened her eyes, Ranthia just smiled and studied her new sheet. How far she had come, in only 6 years. Surely no one else had ever achieved such feats so quickly, she convinced herself. Briefly she felt smug, until she realized that the pretty¡ªmmm, so pretty, maybe even [Pretty]¡ªRanger [Healer] that saved her life so long ago had been about her age at the time, if not younger¡­ and she had been over level 150. Worse, each level beyond 128 took significantly more effort than the prior levels. Ranthia¡¯s advantages were kind of absurd, but¡­ Well, somehow, she doubted that the Ranger had been attached to Adventurers¡ªor Rangers, for that matter¡ªsince she was 8. And there was no way that lovely young woman had the backing of one of the five major gods¡ªthough admittedly even Ranthia herself was aware that she likely attributed too many events in her life to Xaoc¡¯s hand. So, yeah, maybe the tasty-looking [Healer] had been more impressive than she was. That was fine! Ranthia was very happy with where she was now. Ranthia made use of her privacy and practiced her new tricks until she got the hang of them. There were quirks this time around. [Scattered Reflections] immediately earned the label of a ¡®weird¡¯ skill. It created mirror images of herself that felt passably real¡ªand only passably¡ªbut only so long as she used a soft enough touch. Any real pressure applied revealed a firmness beneath that, with further force, just broke. Similarly, the mirror images wore her clothing and equipment¡ªthankfully, she¡¯d never have lived down a skill that forced her to flash everyone¡ªbut when she tried to lift the clothes or pull open a pouch on the image¡¯s belt there was the same bit of give, then firmness, then the image shattered. At least the skill promised that durability could be further enhanced as they leveled, so long as her vitality continued to grow. Also having weather reactivity was huge, the skill even by itself was better than her old kind of flat images even bolstered with [Image Anima]. [Reflective Motility] was a bit of a mixed bag. She swiftly discovered that she struggled to move more than one mirror image in an even remotely believable way; even small, idle motions took an alarming amount of focus. It was all too easy to lose the thread of control needed for minor, regular motions like breathing or blinking. [Mirrored Moves] made the situation even worse! In addition to the regular movements¡ªwhich already took the bulk of her focus¡ªthe skill provided yet another thing she needed to micromanage. Still, the potential it gave her to fake out a smart foe with a mirror image that seemed to be attacking with [Blades of Darkness] promised to be invaluable, so it wasn¡¯t like she was disappointed. It just was a lot that she¡¯d need to practice. Of course, the real happy surprise was [Reflections of Reality]. The skill was the embodiment of everything she had hoped and dreamed to do with her build. It was her goal that she had created. And it took a ton of willpower to put off experimenting with it, because she knew she¡¯d have glossed over everything else had she started with it. But, at last, she was¡­ done enough with everything else. Ranthia smiled and faced her image, close enough that they were almost touching since the fresh level 1 skill¡¯s description mentioned that its range increased with level. This was it; it was time to embrace success! Ranthia triggered the skill and¡­ Nothing happened. Okay, wow, it seriously required touch range at level 1? Eh, so long as it expanded from there, that was fine. Ranthia laid her hand on the image and activated the skill! Yet nothing happened. Something¡¯s wrong. Something¡¯s wrong. Something¡¯s wrong! The unhelpful words flooded Ranthia¡¯s mind as she rushed to try again and again, pressing her body closer and closer against the image until the image broke from the light force being applied. Then she just kind of stood there, staring dumbfounded for several seconds¡­ Then she finally took a (proverbial) step back and had to laugh at herself while she tried to release the tension that she had inflicted upon herself. She was being ridiculous! She needed to relax and work through it¡ªit was a problem to solve, that was all. And she was great at solving problems! Her entire career path was about solving problems, after all. Not that her knives would be all that helpful with this problem. Ranthia created a new image a short distance in front of her. The System wasn¡¯t a vacuum of detached functionality; there was feedback from skills. She usually ignored the feedback since she knew how skills worked, but this one clearly wasn¡¯t quite so intuitive. So, she just needed to work through it, step by step. The image was a valid target, that part was easy. The range was valid too, which meant her prior display was even stupider than it had presumably looked. The skill was trying to activate, but then it failed. That seemed odd. Ranthia tried to focus and parcel it out. The skill was trying to activate but her mana hadn¡¯t even budged¡­ Oh. Ranthia just kind of stared into the distance once it dawned on her. [Reflections of Reality] was trying to pull more mana than her magic power provided?! She had never run into that before! Sure, her magic power gated how solid and large her metal decoys had been, but she had been grateful for that; higher costs would have wiped out her mana pool far too quickly. This meant that the System had given her a skill that was impossible to activate?! Ranthia was on the cusp of declaring that the system wouldn¡¯t provide skills she couldn¡¯t use¡­ yet something told her it was possible. Ranthia paused to vent a short tirade of obscenities until she felt better and had a (slightly) clearer mind. The problem was she had no idea how close or far she was. Was she a level or two away from being able to use the skill? She had no foundation to calculate from! [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Mechanics Calculations]! Would you like to replace a skill?] [Mechanics Calculations]: You wanted a skill, got it, and then realized you had no idea what you were asking for. This seems reasonable. To avoid these problems, take this skill and improve your grasp of math and mechanics with each level. -56 Mana Regen Rate when you manage to use your mind. Ranthia¡¯s immediate response was outraged bitterness, but she forced herself to consider the offered skill. Yes, the System was taunting her¡ªincredibly unsubtly¡ªbut it was still tempting. Her chaos-given knowledge was a lifesaver, but there were clearly gaps, even in her System knowledge. The skill might help with that. Though on the flip side, she had to ask herself how often a bit of math helped when her knowledge fell short. It was relevant here, but¡­ But was it actually relevant? It was valuable if the question was how long she had to wait to level to cast it. But that wasn¡¯t the real question. When Ranthia turned her mind to how can I cast this now she unexpectedly had an answer. She could channel! It was a realization that solved everything, but it was also a realization that solved nothing. She knew, somehow, that channeling was possible but that didn¡¯t mean the System automatically offered it up. Still, it was a direction so Ranthia rejected [Mechanics Calculations] and started to try to figure out how to practice for a skill she didn¡¯t even have. Night had fallen before Ranthia finally had her breakthrough, one that was painfully obvious in hindsight. It was the exact same process most¡ªinsufficiently pious¡ªpeople used while praying; she needed to parcel her mana and, instead of offering it to a god like someone might offer their damned dog a treat, she had to shove it at the skill. Nothing actually happened when she did that of course, but if she did it long enough¡­ [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Channel]! Would you like to replace a skill?] [Channel]: Sometimes, for reasons that are never your own fault, simply unleashing a spell may not be an option. Take this skill and instead think really hard about using a skill until you finally get to! Increased control over the mana fed into the channel and marginally decreased mental effort required to maintain the channel per level. Ranthia shuddered slightly while she wondered if she had managed to annoy the System. She had no idea how intelligent the System was, but if it could sass it could probably get angry. ¡°Thank you so much for supporting me through this.¡± Ranthia loudly announced. She wasn¡¯t crazy, she was just making sure the incorporeal thing that governed her existence and survival was content. She ditched [Crafting Traps & Alarms] as soon as she finished expressing her gratitude and reassuring herself that doing so was completely reasonable. There was barely any nausea, not that she was entirely surprised. She had gotten very little use out of the skill, and it was seriously under-leveled. She had only taken the skill at her guardians¡¯ insistence; it wasn¡¯t like she needed it to make a passable hunting snare or string up some pots¡ªshe had done so for years without the skill. Ranthia¡¯s stomach had been growling for a while and her bladder was starting to get insistent, but she was so close! She promised herself she¡¯d test the skill once, then attend to her own needs. Mentally Ranthia tapped [Channel] and pointed it at [Reflections of Reality] while she faced the image she had left standing there for Xaoc alone knew how long. Her mana began to drop in chunks of 846, roughly every heartbeat or so. ¡­Well, every couple, but her heart was beating a touch faster than normal. Ranthia had been sure 2,000 mana would have been enough, but her mana pool continued to get funneled into the channel. Once she passed 4,000 mana she began to wonder if she was doing something wrong. The skill didn¡¯t feel ready to use but surely 4,000 mana¡ªalmost five times as much mana as she had ever thrown at any single casting¡ªshould have been enough! Her mana pool was oh-so-nearly emptied before the drain stopped. That was¡­ less than ideal, but Ranthia released the skill the instant it felt ready. She¡¯d worry about the rest later! It was¡­ amazingly intuitive. Something about [Reflections of Reality] seemed to remove the disorientation she had expected from an abrupt change in her position and stance. Everything felt so smooth and natural. The skill fit her like it was made for her. One moment she had been standing in one spot, and the next she was in her image. And yet she still felt like herself! Ranthia whooped a delighted laugh and gleefully sent a prayer of thanks to Xaoc while she tested out the false body. It was exciting! She seemed to still have her full range of motion and capabilities. Even [Blades of Darkness] still worked just as she expected while she was in the image¡¯s body! Ranthia ran through some exercises, but no matter what she tried it felt just like being inside her true body. It was everything she had ever dreamt! Ranthia smiled happily. She was definitely going to test more, but first she was ready to eat something! She turned back to her true body and attempted to shift back to it¡­ ¡­Not that anything happened. ¡°Oh godsdamnit, returning to my true body requires the same fucking cost?!¡± Ranthia snapped. Even with [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] the skill took almost her entire mana pool. That was far from ideal. Mana potions were expensive, and it seemed she¡¯d be as reliant on them as a purple flower addict was on their next hit. Still, it just served to highlight how incredibly powerful the skill was. She could only even use it by the grace of Xaoc! ¡­Wait, had He known? She honestly had no idea whether her [Covenant] was granted by Xaoc or the System. The vow was made to Xaoc, but while deities had some influence over classes like the [Paladin] one she was barred from taking¡­ she had no idea at all if that extended to skills. It was an interesting mental puzzle, but¡ªlike questions about her prior self¡ªit was one that Ranthia would never ask about. Whether Xaoc sent the skill or the System acknowledged her commitment to the deity was irrelevant: it had meant everything to her. And now it meant even more. It was as simple as that! Unfortunately, this still meant she¡¯d have to wait nearly two of her blocks of a twenty-fourth of a day¡ªor almost a twelfth of the day¡ªto get back to her true body. She was hungry and she had regrets about testing the skill before she ate. Oddly her bladder wasn¡¯t protesting though, she hadn¡¯t even noticed until she thought about it. Of course, she had options. She could have gone downstairs in the false body and over to the tavern portion to seek food. But she hadn¡¯t tested how far she could get from an image before it vanished¡ªand she was reasonably certain there was a maximum range. She figured it was possible to carry her true body down, but her images were so fragile that it felt dangerous in the extreme. She was not going to take stupid risks, not with her true body! Her stomach could wait. At long, long last Ranthia was reasonably certain that she had enough mana and began to [Channel] again. It turned out that she was slightly premature, but it only took another few hundred heartbeats for her mana pool to regenerate the last bit she needed. It wasn¡¯t that hard to maintain the focus required for [Channel], it seemed. She had been a bit concerned about that with how the skill described itself, but she was confident that she could manage that much. And Ranthia at long last returned to her true body. Only for her bladder to immediately and insistently assert its urgency. Ranthia ran, dismissing the image she¡¯d been testing as she went. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. If anyone had asked, Ranthia would have insisted that she made it to the public outhouses without incident. Her visit to the well afterwards and her sodden state when she grabbed a bowl of stew¡ªsadly it was creamy pork, no rabbit stew on offer¡ªwere completely unrelated. Mercifully she never ran into Tatius or Pupius, and soon enough she was secure back in her room with a fresh tunic. Ranthia ran through her thoughts while she hungrily ate. Her brush with the difficulty of returning to her true body had raised a major concern that nothing about the skill description addressed. What would happen if her real body was damaged while it was a mere mirror image? Would it shatter like the false images? The odds were high that it would; the description did state that her true body became a ¡°mere¡± Mirror image. It was absolutely not something she was going to test, but realistically she decided that she just needed to be careful. She couldn¡¯t imagine that she would be able to live forever as a mere image. If her true body was destroyed, in all likelihood she was doomed. But she could work with that! Death was always a danger in combat, but now she had a way to minimize it, so long as she was careful. So long as her body was stashed safely, she was fine. She was more than fine, possibly. Ranthia dreamt up new ideas for things to test while she slowly ate her stew¡ªand the oversized portion of absurdly over-buttered bread she had bought to go along with it. Pupius would have given her crap for eating so much, but she was ravenous and fully intended to consume every last morsel. She needed time for her mana to regenerate, after all. She was so not going to get any sleep that night, there was no way. There were just far too many things to discover about her kit, the kit she had wanted for years! The next test was to confirm that she still suffered harm while she inhabited one of the mirror images, just like she would if it was her normal body. She escalated her experiments to make certain, but in the end the nasty gash across the forearm of one of her mirror images proved her initial results held true. It had hurt when she cut her entire forearm, but her real body was unblemished when she returned to it. There were no consequences when she dismissed the damaged image either. Though a smarter Ranthia would have waited until after her mana regenerated before she inflicted such a wound on herself. If she wasn¡¯t wearing all of her equipment the cost she had to [Channel] was reduced before [Reflections of Reality] triggered. It never became a cost she could activate without [Channel]ing, but it gave her an emergency option to reduce the mana she needed by an amount that might save her life. Similarly, if she shifted to a mirror image and then undressed or set down her knives, when she switched back to her original body she was suddenly missing whatever item she had set down, even though her true body still seemed to have the item while it was merely a mirror image. Shifting back to it triggered the change. That was weird, but it was reasonable. It wasn¡¯t like she really expected her Mirror class to hand her a way to generate limitless wealth, which both seemed like it fell afoul of the System¡¯s rules and was definitely something someone else would have figured out resulting in the element being wildly illegal. Fortunately, that wasn¡¯t the case. The items did seem to be unchanged, though she still made a point of switching back to the mirror image and redressing or retrieving whatever items she dropped to recover them for her real body. Better to be safe than have something go wrong! And yes, the mirror images seemed to be¡­ entirely accurate under her clothes while she inhabited one of them. Bizarrely¡ªand she just chalked it up to magic being magic¡ªher hunger persisted when she switched bodies. Similarly, if she held her breath, changing bodies didn¡¯t remove the need for air. Which made no sense because she could injure herself while in a mirror image¡¯s body, and then was suddenly pain and injury free when she switched back. Sure, sometimes there was a brief moment of phantom pain, but bodies did weird things sometimes when they were suddenly healed. On a related note, she confirmed that any blood spilled from her mirror image body also vanished when the mirror image was dismissed. Her range to swap bodies measured to be 15 paces and when she finally¡ªafter most of the night spent practicing¡ªgot a single level in the skill it increased to 16 paces. This was mildly frustrating when she was certain that she was able to put images a fair distance away from herself. This meant that, until the ranges of her images and her shifting caught up to one another, that it would be yet another thing she needed to track. For not the first time she wished there were skills to handle some of the data tracking for her. Now she needed to keep the different ranges in mind¡ªon top of the mental efforts of channeling and the constant focus [Reflective Motility] required. It was getting to be a lot, but unfortunately she had never heard of a Skill that would help with keeping track of everything. That hardly eliminated it as being possible, but the System had never offered her a skill like that either. Her knowledge was murky on whether or not it was possible, though she hoped that it was. [Channel] could be held once she had fully charged [Reflections of Reality]. It wouldn¡¯t activate until she was ready, which meant she could hold the skill ready for use before she started an engagement! She could even allow her mana to recover or¡ªwith some difficulty splitting her focus¡ªuse other Skills in the interim. That opened up some exciting possibilities. By the next nightfall, Ranthia¡¯s mana had regenerated, and her basic tests were concluded. She was ready to show Tatius and Pupius her new tricks! She had been impatient to show off ever since she had woken up from her class up, but it, tragically, was entirely sensible for her to take the time to figure the mechanics out for herself so she could give a better showing. Practicality was boring! Ranthia¡¯s attempts to locate the two men turned out to be a winding, roundabout quest that would have been completely averted had she actually just checked the first place she would have looked had she not asked someone if they had seen them. The men, as it turned out, were in the training ground beneath the Adventurer¡¯s Guildhall, where they often were. They were not at the tavern, not still running errands around town, nor were they at the long since closed for the day apothecary, and they certainly weren¡¯t hanging out at the mining guild¡¯s offices for some bizarre reason. Ranthia should have known better than to trust other people for information, truly. Her frustration did not help the background mental strain she suffered while she held [Channel] fully primed and ready. Had she known the process would be so ridiculous she wouldn¡¯t have held it while her mana regenerated! Frustrated or not, she was ready and eager to show off! Hurriedly, before she was noticed, she ducked behind an empty bin, created a mirror image, and at last released [Reflections of Reality] so she could inhabit it. Immediately she began to [Channel] again, draining her mana pool anew while she choked down a mana potion. It was a flagrant waste of money, but she was showing off, it was important! In her mirror image body, she approached the sparring area where Tatius and Pupius sparred and waited for them to notice her. Tatius was the first to notice, which allowed Pupius to land several swift blows on his distracted opponent. This left the smaller man unjustifiably smug when they walked over to Ranthia. She was all grins, which had the men looking cautiously optimistic. She had convinced them that her days of class ups that left her¡ªtemporarily¡ªweakened were done. ¡°I want to show you both my new class, I think you¡¯ll agree it¡¯s been worth it.¡± She announced, completely cocky and confident. ¡°Alright, want to make it a spar?¡± It was Pupius that offered, unfortunately. As a speedster he was much faster than Ranthia¡¯s oddly balanced build was, with a reaction speed that still far surpassed her own. She was confident¡ªor was just cocky¡ªthat she could have taken Tatius at that point, but Pupius would be a far greater challenge. ¡­Not that Ranthia ever backed down from something merely challenging. ¡°Sure!¡± Ranthia answered, without losing her cocky grin. She approached the ring and paused, mentally doing some quick math. Her true body should be fine where it was, but she needed to be careful not to let herself get thrown out of the far side of the dueling area. Tatius approached and handed her the weapons she preferred to use while training. Ranthia accepted the pair of training knives¡ªblunted metal, they were heavier but were similar in size to her own blades¡ªand assumed a ready stance. Pupius had his own wooden short swords of choice ready and was clothed in the padded armor he used for training. It was bulkier than he liked, but it helped minimize bruising. Both men had to independently get her to refuse padded armor, especially since she had left her leather cloak back in her room. She had to reassure both of them that she was fine before they finally, somewhat grudgingly, accepted her word. Honestly, she grumbled inwardly. She was an adult; they didn¡¯t need to look after her so much. By Remus¡¯ (eternally terrible) logic she should have been married and, at a minimum, pregnant with her first child by then. Pupius was at level 251, so very close to his next class up and, worse, she knew for a fact that both of his classes were roughly the same level. The hard life of an Adventurer had been good for him and Tatius, at least in terms of levels. Their wealth generation could still use more work though. It was the curse of being an Adventurer¡ªevery time you started to pull ahead some expense always cropped up. But she was done being an expense and burden on the men. She was determined that, starting with that spar, she was going to become properly independent at last. It was time to pay the men back. ¡­In a good way! Pupius came straight at her at speed, the instant Tatius called for them to start. Ranthia only barely managed to create a mirror image behind him and release the [Channel] so that she transferred into it with [Reflections of Reality] before the flat of one of his longswords smacked the shoulder of the body she had just left. His eyes widened as that body shattered beneath his blow and he turned just as the tip of the knife that she slashed at his back barely touched the padded armor. Pupius barked a laugh¡ªa tiny sign that she had impressed him¡ªwhile he hopped away from her strike and faced her directly. Ranthia threw a new mirror image out, crouched at his side and had it jab at him with its knife. He reacted far too quickly, and casually blocked with his short sword before he kicked the image in the chest¡ªshattering it¡ªand swept forward at the real Ranthia. So much for her plan to distract him! Still, Ranthia grinned a smug, challenging grin at him while she parried his strike and backed away while two other mirror images were created on either side of her. Not quite surreptitiously, Ranthia drank another mana potion and started a new [Channel]. Fortunately, Pupius seemed content to wait for her until she was ready. The three charged as one¡ªsomewhat uncoordinatedly, admittedly¡ªbefore Ranthia threw an image behind Pupius and shifted to it just before they reached the faster man. Someone whistled from the sidelines while she hurriedly drank a mana potion¡ªagain¡ªjust as the clash was joined again¡­ however briefly. Pupius¡¯ short swords cleaved straight through all three images, which caught him off-guard. Ranthia took the opportunity to create another image at his side, and had it feint an attack while she tried for the man¡¯s back again. She had done her best to keep the mirror image¡¯s attack realistic, but either Pupius noticed something was amiss or he sensed her presence behind him; instead, he crashed straight through her mirror image while he dodged her new attack. Pupius looked haughty when he turned to face her, but honestly Ranthia was still kind of elated. He was outperforming her, but she was actually¡ªalbeit just barely¡ªkeeping up with the man¡¯s speed. It wasn¡¯t enough to get an edge, but she still had a card she hadn¡¯t played yet, [Mirrored Moves]. She simply needed to get the man used to what she was doing first, same as she¡¯d weaponized against the dinosaur a couple of days ago! Then she had the tool to open up a real opportunity. Unfortunately, the trick would be somewhat marred by the fact that everyone knew that she couldn¡¯t seriously use [Blades of Darkness] in a friendly match since the dark element would go straight through that padded armor as if it wasn¡¯t even there. Still, she just needed to catch him off-guard and make him second guess¡ªeven just for a moment¡ªwhich body she was in. Ranthia pushed herself to be faster. She drove back in with an aggressive series of mirror images and alongside her own strikes as she tried to create an opening. Pupius, of course, was too quick and kept deflecting or evading her real strikes, even when she began to add additional mirror images to the training ground to sow confusion. No matter what angle she tried, her blades tasted air or met one of his own. It was a strange sensation to fight all out with [Reflections of Reality]. Physical fatigue was relieved when she shifted to a fresh image (which would be wonderful once she could shift more frequently, mana potions were so slow), but the mental toll of how much she had to keep track of wore her down just as severely. Which was troubling since she wasn¡¯t even using [Channel] yet, she hadn¡¯t regenerated enough mana¡ªthough the thought reminded her to drink another expensive potion. Ranthia was already glistening with sweat while they maneuvered around the sparring grounds as she desperately tried to counter his speed with skill and trickiness. Time was one thing she had no spare mental energy to track. Once she felt as if she would soon grow sloppy if they continued much longer, Ranthia played her trump card, since she had just barely recovered enough mana for one last shift. She charged at Pupius and, at the last moment, stopped herself and instead rushed to throw out three new mirror images while he hesitated, one behind him and one to either side. At last, Ranthia activated [Mirrored Moves] for the image at his left and it drove toward his side with a blade enveloped in darkness. She also had the other two make the best normal thrusts she could manage, then, an instant, later made her own strike toward his front. [Boosted Reflexes] screamed in her senses. Ranthia never even saw the blade that came at her, but her other senses tracked it just enough to let her bring her other knife up into a defensive position. She kicked off the ground to throw herself backwards, but there was no time. The blow that [Boosted Reflexes] warned her about struck her blade with enough force that it smashed the back of the blade into her arm even as the force tore the knife out of her grip. Pupius had his own trump card, [Dervish], which was named after the core skill of the several skills that made up the technique. It allowed him to spin in a full circle at an absurd speed, which drove his blades with an unholy amount of force. A single combat technique that let him punch up significantly higher than his level¡ªbriefly. He seldom used it in practice, though it let him shred through most defenses; the last time he had used it they had been forced to purchase new swords for him since neither blade had survived the impact. And Ranthia had, inadvertently, forced him to use it against her. Ranthia swore as she backed off, the knife had been sent flying and she¡¯d completely lost track of it. She tried to shake out her arm even as an angry Pupius came to a stop, in an effort to get rid of the strange numb feeling. Instead, there was a disgustingly uncanny flopping sensation when she shook her arm. The pain hit about then, the blow that she had just barely managed to block had still managed to snap¡ªor worse¡ªher forearm and her hand was clearly mangled. Pupius was covered in sweat, but when he saw her arm, his mask of fury vanished. The short man paled and dropped his blades as he swore. She also heard Tatius calling her name. Her mind wanted to go fuzzy, and the pain was excruciating. Ranthia shoved her willpower against the mental fog; she just needed to force herself to ignore the pain and hang on for a bit longer. Thank Xaoc she hadn¡¯t wanted to risk adding the mental weight of [Channel] on top of her attack gambit. She stumbled back towards her true body as she tried to focus on the [Channel] through her aching arm¡ªand head¡ªeach moment a struggle¡­ Until at long last, she felt the bliss of relief as she slipped back into her own, intact body. Immediately, her body decided to soak itself in a cold sweat, but she shook her head and stepped out of her hiding place. This placed her a bit behind Tatius as he and Pupius desperately interacted with the image that she had abandoned. She dismissed her gruesomely mangled mirror image just before either hesitant man could touch it. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ okay! I¡¯m over here, that wasn¡¯t my real body.¡± Why was she so breathless? Her head throbbed and just calling out the reassurance had forced her to gulp air like she had just finished a particularly grueling training session. The men seemed to be momentarily puzzled, so Ranthia welcomed the opportunity to try to catch her breath on the stuffy air of the training ground while the men recalibrated. ¡°That was¡­¡± ¡°By the gods¡­¡± ¡°Geeze!¡± Apparently, they had other gawkers, but Ranthia ignored them as she focused on Tatius and Pupius. The men¡¯s faces had gone through a myriad of different emotions before they settled on grins. ¡°You about gave me a heart attack little lady!¡± Tatius chuckled. He seemed to have settled in on amusement. ¡°I can¡¯t believe someone who just got their first 128 class managed to force me into a corner! What even was that?! I¡­ oh shit, I could have really crippled you if¡­¡± Pupius started impressed, before his emotions returned to chaos. She hoped he wouldn¡¯t land back on his earlier anger, which was the only reason that she didn¡¯t point out that she had reached level 128 twice before. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I¡¯m tricky, remember?¡± Ranthia tried to reassure him while she smiled something that was either reassuring or just obnoxious smugness. She had no idea where she had landed. She was so very tired and her head was a fog of agony, though not quite as bad as the shattered arm had been. ¡°That¡¯s the truth, gods¡­ Xaoc himself couldn¡¯t make such a mess out of a spar.¡± Tatius grumbled. Ranthia wasn¡¯t exactly sure if that was praise or not, but the sacrilege grated more than a little even if it was meant as a compliment. It must have shown on her face because the man held up his too-large hands in apology in an effort to stave off her words. ¡°We need to talk to the Guildmaster, I know she¡¯s still young but¡­ I say she¡¯s ready!¡± Pupius announced, rather loudly. Which disarmed Ranthia¡¯s annoyance better than anything else¡ªeven a promise of rabbit stew¡ªcould have. ¡°What, really?¡± Ranthia allowed her hopes to rise. For a brief moment, her headache was forgotten. ¡°Yeah, I agree.¡± Tatius nodded. ¡°And so do I.¡± Ranthia jumped and let out a mortifyingly girlish little noise of surprise. She hadn¡¯t even felt the man¡¯s presence behind her! The Guildmaster looked like a gentle wisp of an old man, at least if you were blind. For anyone who had a true eye for people, it was impossible to miss the signs that he was a level 389 [Ranger]. The man was, despite his advanced age, still absurdly stealthy and had an air of coiled danger about him, even if he preferred to sit in his office and handle menial management tasks so he could spend each of his nights quietly with his husband and their boyfriend. He also took pleasure in startling people and Ranthia did not miss the mischievous, happy glimmer in his eye while she recomposed herself and stepped back to Tatius¡¯s side. She hadn¡¯t spent much time with the man¡ªall of her concerns about a solid first impression never amounted to much¡ªbut she was impressed by him. The man had earned his rank. He was an Adventurer who lived his life on the field until he was thrust into command by sheer merit. It was too bad that she only met the man after he retired into a quieter life. ¡°You all saw the spar. This young Adventurer has been with our Guild¡ªunofficially¡ªfor many years and proven herself again and again as a tagalong. Now we just witnessed the feats of this match. And one thing I want you all to bear in mind: she held back throughout the match, and, in the end, our Whirling Edge did not! She has fought one of our local best evenly, and I will not tolerate any who would disparage her for her age or sex. If you have problems with me making her an Adventurer, speak now!¡± The Guildmaster¡¯s voice filled the training area and, for the first time, forced Ranthia to realize just how many other Adventurers and staff had come down to watch her match. No one spoke out against her, several even called out in support. Oh Xaoc, it¡¯s happening! It¡¯s finally happening! Ranthia sent as a prayer¡ªalong with the last dregs of her mana¡ªwhile she struggled to keep her face proud and neutral. She was almost happy enough that it made the headache worth dealing with. She just needed to play it cool. ¡°Then as Guildmaster of the Sardonia branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, I hereby welcome Ranthia officially to our organization! And, by luck, I even have the perfect first quest to issue her that I had yet to stick on the board,¡± he made a show of holding up and unrolling the scroll, ¡°You are to head into the local wilderness and retrieve at least ten bunches of two different herbs that grow there!¡± The Adventurers cheered, loudly, as she underwent one of the oldest traditions of any branch of the adventurer¡¯s guild. The greatest honor that they could bestow upon any newly accepted member of their ranks. A boring job that barely paid enough coins to be worth doing if you had absolutely nothing better to do. Ranthia had been assured that both herbs were still available, even though it was currently winter. Bright and early the next day (she was excited but sleep was not at all optional), Ranthia left Sardonia¡¯s walls for the first time as a true Adventurer on her own merits. The age requirements to be an Adventurer were loosely defined, at best. They required the potential Adventurer to be wholly independent, and that was all. Every other Guildmaster that Ranthia had met had refused to consider her a proper independent. Some branches required their members to be sixteen, others eighteen. Few of them had ever treated her poorly, but it was a massive relief to finally find one that truly seemed to see who she was and what she needed to be. Ranthia was entirely unsurprised that she had to begin from the most basic ranks as an Adventurer, like any new member. She had expected as much. ¡­A small part of her still fumed about it though. The first weed medicinal herb was a grass that grew in small patches in rocky crags around the mining region. The second was, naturally, in the opposite direction, and was a moss that grew on the oldest trees deep in the woods. A significant portion of the day later, with two of her belt pouches probably permanently fragranced from the plants, Ranthia made her way to the apothecary that issued the request. It wasn¡¯t one that Ranthia or her guardians usually patroned. It was in one of the newer districts of Sardonia, those that Ranthia tended to largely treat as abandoned and uninhabited. Sardonia wasn¡¯t quite as small as they¡¯d been told by people that had never been there, but it was definitely nowhere close to being a large town. Supposedly the apothecary was new¡ªon occasion people still fell for the mining companies¡¯ bullshit, apparently¡ªso Ranthia made a mental note to check its prices and quality while she was there. Their usual potion dealer was decent enough, but Ranthia kind of desperately needed a cheaper source of mana potions. And maybe, just maybe, the new shop was run by a peerless alchemist that had performed a miracle. A mana potion that didn¡¯t make her tongue want to retreat down her throat and throttle her for inflicting such an offense upon it? That would have truly been miraculous, a feat worthy of the gods themselves. Behind the counter of the tidy¡ªif excessively aromatic¡ªshop was a positively ancient looking man with milky, unseeing eyes. Wooden shelves were lined with tiny clay bottles and jugs of all shapes and sizes, stopped with tallow. Beneath the goods there were little wooden signs hung that showed the more-or-less standardized symbols for each type of potion, followed by neat script that, presumably, described their full effects. Ranthia, like Tatius and Pupius, could read a few basic, fundamental things. Life as an Adventurer had, effectively, required her to learn a few select bits, but there was precious little contained within the descriptions of the potions that she could make sense of. Obnoxiously, there seemed to be no prices listed for any of the potions on display. It wasn¡¯t unheard of, but Ranthia always hated shops like that. There was no reason to add hurdles to a transaction! The man was [Artisan] tagged and 148. Uncharitably, Ranthia figured that could have been his age too. The Guildmaster was¡ªno doubt¡ªolder, but he was in far better condition than the fading man behind the counter. More levels meant more vitality, and more vitality meant a longer, healthier lifespan. ¡°Good day! I¡¯m the Adventurer that just completed the job you requested. I¡¯m here with your herbs.¡± Ranthia greeted, with her best customer relations voice. She might not be impressed with the man or his shop, but she was an Adventurer! ¡°Eh? What was that? Speak up boy!¡± The old man demanded. Ranthia was¡­ dumbfounded. She had literally never, in her life, been mistaken for a boy by anyone that got more than a fleeting glance at her from a distance. She kept her hair cut short, yes, but clearly [Cute] had always managed to power through, despite its paltry level (life as an Adventurer, even a tagalong, left few opportunities to truly be [Cute]). And her voice had always been quite feminine! It¡¯d been girlish, but she was proud of her increasingly womanly voice. She was caught off-guard¡ªand insulted¡ªenough that she literally had no idea how to respond. She wanted to protest, she wanted to correct him, but she also just wanted to get the money and go give the guild its cut. Ordinarily for most jobs she would have brought the herbs to the guild, and they would pay her before they handled the exchange. Unfortunately, first jobs usually made the Adventurer play the role of the middleman. ¡­Which meant the Guildmaster had taken the job ahead of time, planning to make her an Adventurer! The realization filled her with pride and did quite a bit to offset the annoyance she¡¯d been struggling with. ¡°Grandfather, don¡¯t tease the poor girl! She¡¯s very lovely and isn¡¯t even a little boyish.¡± A young woman with silky, long blonde hair¡ªan autumnal shade that might be mistaken for light brown in a darker environment¡ªemerged from the back area of the shop, exasperation writ plainly upon her face. She was attractive, in a muted way that made Ranthia suspect the girl hadn¡¯t taken an appearance skill and was maybe a year or so older than Ranthia. ¡°Pah, I don¡¯t even know why I hired you if you¡¯re just going to ruin all of my fun.¡± The old man grumbled. ¡°You hired me because you knew you¡¯d just run off all your customers again and have to move somewhere else. Again.¡± The blonde sighed and shook her head before she approached Ranthia. The young woman gave her name¡ªwhich Ranthia promptly managed to forget despite her best efforts¡ªand apologized for her grandfather¡¯s antics. Ranthia was trying¡ªdesperately¡ªto decide whether the young woman had been flirting with her defense of Ranthia. This left her more than a little distracted and she, belatedly, answered the young woman¡¯s apology with what was supposed to be ¡°it¡¯s fine.¡± ¡°It¡¯s don¡¯t fine.¡± Ranthia managed to blurt out instead. A moment later she went scarlet. The young woman giggled a wonderful little giggle in response. Ranthia wanted to be angry with herself, but she needed to know if the blonde was flirting with her. Unfortunately, all too soon, Ranthia found herself with the coins for the job in hand and found herself outside the shop, her pouches freed from the tyranny of the strongly scented herbs. She had been so enraptured with the potential for romance, at long last, that she had managed to completely forget to ask about the potion prices too, which she spent some time kicking herself over when it dawned on her just over halfway through her walk back to the guildhall. She was entirely too tempted to head back¡ªit was a great excuse!¡ªbut, in the end she decided to play it cool and visit another day. Ranthia was a mature, cool Adventurer. She was the one that women swooned over; she wasn¡¯t some lovesick puppy in need of affection. ¡­Yeah, she didn¡¯t believe her self-affirmation either. The worker at the front desk of the Guild took the Guild¡¯s cut of the coins Ranthia earned and stamped the quest, then told her that her father wanted her to meet him at the tavern. Ranthia¡¯s hormonal mind was so afflicted with thoughts of the nameless young woman that she met that she oh-so-nearly asked ¡®who¡¯ in response, but she managed to catch herself and thanked the man. ¡°The woman of the day!¡± Pupius called out as she opened the door to the tavern. Ranthia blinked as her eyes adjusted to the comparatively dim indoor light. The majority of the men and women that made a living as Adventurers in Sardonia were scattered across the tavern. Even the tavern¡¯s usual staff were seated, with the owners¡ªthe Guildmaster¡¯s husband and their boyfriend¡ªboth busy in the cooking area in the back. Their kitchen was visible to the whole tavern, since they prided themselves on cleanliness and presentation. A wonderful smell made its way to Ranthia¡¯s nose. It was a scent she knew well and always craved. ¡°Please tell me that¡¯s rabbit stew, I¡¯m starving!¡± The crowd laughed and Pupius motioned for her to join him and Tatius at a table. Moments after she sat, someone placed a positively massive bowl of fresh, hot rabbit stew in front of her, along with a generous portion of fresh bread and¡ªsurprisingly¡ªa flagon of beer. Ranthia quirked an eyebrow. Tatius had always stopped her from having anything that wasn¡¯t heavily watered down, other than a bit of spiced mulled wine that was only tolerated during the colder season. ¡­Not that Remus ever got extremely cold, but campsites were more exposed than home with a good hearth. Tatius shrugged and muttered something about her being a full Adventurer now and how that was good enough. His tone made it clear that he had been bullied into it. Beer was fine. It wasn¡¯t exactly a taste that she immediately craved more of, but it wasn¡¯t awful. She took sips here and there, but she declined the chanted urges to convince her to chug it. There was no way that she was going to get drunk beyond sense when the rabbit stew was that incredible. The meat had been perfectly cooked and flaked apart in her mouth, the vegetables were all cooked properly and were clearly fresh, and even the seasoning was on point. She had a new benchmark for her own attempts, [Soups & Stews] had never gotten her even close to such perfection. In ones and threes everyone present made their way over to Ranthia to congratulate her while she enjoyed her dinner. The young woman that had stolen her hormonal heart was almost¡ªbut not quite¡ªforgotten while Ranthia enjoyed the camaraderie. She felt truly and widely accepted in a way she had never felt before in her life. Fortunately, at the moment, the sentiment just made her feel warm and happy. She could do without tears on the day everyone finally accepted her as an adult and part of their group. She was proffered other beverages as well. Posca was just as terrible as ever and Ranthia threw the mug at the man that slipped it to her. It wasn¡¯t even properly alcoholic! Honeyed wine and mead were both so overwhelmingly sweet that she struggled to tell the difference between them. Regular red wine in a couple of different strengths. Then there was even a small bit of white wine proffered to her, which immediately earned jealous sneers from the other Adventurers. Ranthia plainly preferred the reds, but she made as much of a show as she could of enjoying the white. Later that night Ranthia retired to her room, definitely not drunk. She had finally, properly, on her own merits, earned a place for herself. She had a full belly, a full heart, and a head filled with all sorts of thoughts and fantasies about the young woman that she had met. Life was good and Sardonia was, without a doubt, the greatest place in Remus. Book 1 - Chapter 15 - Adventurer II The problem with being a bottom-ranked brand new Adventurer was that it did not give her a large assortment of quality, glamorous tasks to undertake. It was an obvious lesson that she had managed to forget from back when Tatius and Pupius had to do the same. It was predominantly scut work, and sometimes quite literally. In what universe was hammering fence posts into the ground something Adventurers should have posted as a job? No amount of complaining prevented her from taking it though, it paid better than the other jobs she had to choose from. Level 80 in [Sudden End] had granted her a new skill, [Strengthen Blade], which made her knives more resilient to harm. It came as a relief; she loved her knives and every bit of damage they sustained was painful. She knew well that knives were tools, and it was inevitable that the knives would someday fail her. She knew and understood that, but they were still precious. And the skill promised to help her keep them in hand for a bit longer. The job request had claimed a full goblin infestation of an abandoned mining tunnel. No one believed the middle manager that had sent the job, so it ended up on Ranthia¡¯s end of the job board. It required far too much time¡ªand precious daylight¡ªfor Ranthia to work her way down to the formerly sealed entrance. There had been roads, at one point in time, but the roads had been thoroughly reclaimed by nature in the intervening years since the mine had been in service. Naturally, she hadn¡¯t known that, so she¡¯d been holding [Channel] the entire time. She was already beginning to feel the pressure in the back of her head from the consistent concentration when she finally reached the entrance. Inside she found¡­ Four goblins. Short, filth-covered creatures that squatted around a halfway rotten carcass that was skewered over a small fire in the surprisingly short mineshaft that had clearly been abandoned shortly after it was started. Most likely the vein of whatever they started to dig for proved to be significantly less valuable or deep than expected. Obnoxiously, the job paid per goblin slain, and with there only being four of them¡­ Well, that wasn¡¯t going to exactly leave her swimming in coin. Oh well, she was there. The job had been a gamble, and she knew this was a real possibility. She might as well clean them out to earn a few coins, plus even four goblins were a threat to quite a few people in the area. The beasts hadn¡¯t even noticed her presence. [Shadowed Steps] could be unfair¡ªand it was true that goblins weren¡¯t exactly renowned for their intelligence¡ªbut Ranthia expected more out of them. If you looked into what killed the most Adventurers¡­ Okay, bad question; what killed the most Adventurers was usually equipment problems. But if you looked into what monster killed the most Adventurers every year, the answer was probably goblins by a wide margin. They were relatively small, often weaker than humans, overly aggressive, and barbaric; that much was true. But they also possessed a sort of low cunning and tended to weaponize their numbers in surprisingly creative ways. There was always a sneaky one too. It was almost like the gods had crafted them into creatures that were all too easy for people to take lightly and end up fatally surprised by. Which was why Ranthia had no intention of taking them lightly. [Identify], strangely, took a moment, but each of the goblins was well under level 90, with the lowest leveled member of the little group only at level 63. Ranthia tucked her real body behind a mostly intact support beam, then sent a mirror image a bit behind the highest-level goblin. She released [Channel] and shifted to it, then, with a single [Blades of Darkness] empowered slash she ended the threat it posed. Such as it was. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin Raider] (Earth, level 88)!] It only had a single class, strangely. Ranthia really expected (allegedly) intelligent monsters above level 64 to have their second class. Then again, they were just goblins. Hey, she wasn¡¯t going to underestimate them stupidly, but that didn¡¯t mean she was going to respect them. The other three goblins reacted. One leapt at her, unarmed. Another picked up a sharpened bone and hissed at her. The third grabbed two handfuls of the foul-smelling meat that they had roasting over their little fire and tried to flee. Ranthia threw a new mirror image in front of the meat-greedy goblin that fled¡ªsince it was bound towards her real body¡ªthen threw a second image in front of the only armed goblin. She didn¡¯t want to burn her mana¡ªor deal with [Channel] mid-battle while she was still getting used to the skill¡ªto shift a second time, so instead she leapt over the fire, dodged around the unarmed goblin, and ran down the fleeing goblin. With another use of [Blades of Darkness] she cleaved through its spine in a single slash, before she turned back to the other two. It went down but didn¡¯t immediately die. In the interim, the goblin that had lunged at her was so overcommitted to its lunge that it crashed into the ground making confused noises. The goblin armed with the bone had backed away from the static image that menaced it. She hadn¡¯t even had the focus to animate the image, yet it still held the goblin in check. Ranthia reached the goblin that had hit the ground while it was still picking itself up and sliced cleanly through the goblin¡¯s neck. There was no need to burn the mana required to enhance the attack with a skill, not with such a perfectly presented target. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin Grappler] (Wood, level 72)!] The goblin with the sharpened bone continued to hiss and face off with her still under-animated mirror image. Ranthia skulked behind it with [Shadowed Steps], not expecting much, yet the stupid thing never even seemed to notice her presence behind it. In the end, she was able to drive a [Blades of Darkness] enhanced blow through the back of the goblin¡¯s head unchallenged. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin Bonecaller] (Dark, level 63)!] Ranthia paused for a moment while she wondered what the heck a [Goblin Bonecaller] did, before she got the final notification over the goblin that she had severed the spine of. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin Thief] (Fire, level 80)!] Yeah, that fit. It sure seemed like typical thief behavior to snatch your friends¡¯ food and try to leave them to die. Ranthia immediately started using [Channel] until she was able to shift back to her original body and spent some time investigating the cave and the immediate area, to ensure there were no other goblins lurking around or signs of a larger group. Only once she was convinced that it was clear (so much for there always being a sneaky one) did she return to collect the ears that would serve as her proof of kill for the guild. Not that anyone really wanted to handle goblin ears, but an Adventurer¡¯s Guild couldn¡¯t function entirely off the honor system. Once again Ranthia entered her favorite apothecary and picked up a bottle to replace the blood clotting potion she had lost. Not that she had used it. Embarrassingly enough, she had managed to accidentally stumble and took a bit of a tumble while she tried to catch a rabbit for dinner. She got overconfident and tried to catch it alive. Overall, the attempt had not gone nearly as well as she envisioned. She made it to the counter with her purchase before the old man could grumble about her lurking around without buying anything this time. He confirmed the potion by touching the odd little marks they made on the back of the bottles and grumbled out the price, which she paid without a single complaint despite the fact that he had obviously added five coins to the price. Her lack of protest seemed to annoy him even more. ¡°Oh, Ranthia!¡± Ranthia was wholly unable to completely stop the silly grin that formed on her face when the object of her interests emerged. ¡°Hi! I accidentally smashed one of my potions and figured I¡¯d pick up a replacement on my way home.¡± Ranthia lied; she had travelled clear across town to buy the replacement from this particular shop. ¡°Oh no! Oh, I do wish we could manage a more durable bottle, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s difficult to adventure with such delicate clay vessels.¡± The young woman looked so apologetic. ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s actually super handy to have the bottles easy to break,¡± Ranthia¡¯s mind clawed desperately for an example that supported her lie, ¡°it lets us access them more easily in an emergency.¡± A bit of a lame attempt, she admitted to herself. Though the young woman seemed relieved. Ranthia still hated herself for managing to miss the young woman¡¯s name, especially since it hadn¡¯t come up again. ¡­That she had noticed, at least. She was absolutely certain that the woman was flirting with her in her more recent visits, which was extremely distracting. Some visits she managed to forget to even flirt back! ¡°Well, if you say so¡­ Oh! I was actually just going to convince my grandfather to close up shop for the night so I could go to the market before it closes. Would you care to join me?¡± The young woman asked. ¡°Yes!¡± Ranthia replied, with entirely too great a volume. [Cute] loved an evening spent arm-in-arm with a lovely young lady and got its first levels¡ªplural!¡ªin ages. They giggled and wandered about the shops as they slowly filled the lady¡¯s bag with the items she needed. She even coerced Ranthia into spending far too much coin on one of those silly green dyed women¡¯s tunics because she described the prospective Ranthia that wore it as ¡°perfect.¡± Ranthia¡¯s mood was very nearly ruined at the end of the evening when she got mistaken for a man for the second time in recent memory. It was brief and the woman swiftly corrected herself. Ranthia even knew that it was because she was arm-in-arm with a far more traditionally feminine young woman (Remus was accepting of same-sex couples, but there was always a presumption of standard child-bearing relationships), but it still stung. Of course, the young lady salvaged Ranthia¡¯s grumpy mood when she declared that she had fun and the two of them simply must spend more time together. Ranthia, emboldened by the lovely nameless young lady¡¯s approval, vowed to put real effort into leveling [Cute] further. [*ding!* [Cute] has leveled from 49 to level 53!] The next morning Ranthia visited the baths in town, instead of making use of her scrubbing bucket in her room. She had completely cut herself off from accepting financial assistance from the men now that she could take her own jobs properly, but she had swiftly found that it had made her a bit of a miser when it came to spending coin on ¡°non-essentials.¡± Still, she forced herself to pay the cost for access to the baths and scrubbed herself with cloths and scented oils until her skin was undeniably cleansed while she soaked in the vast, steaming tub. ¡­And inwardly admitted to herself that she just might have been committing a grave mistake by writing the baths off as a non-essential. [*ding!* [Cute] has reached level 54!] Two days and one well-paying¡ªfor her rank¡ªAdventuring job later, Ranthia found herself outside the only building of its kind in Sardonia. The most non-essential of non-essentials. It was a location that she never thought she¡¯d set foot within. Ranthia fingered nervously at her nice, dyed women¡¯s tunic that her paramour had picked out for her. And, at length, she worked up the courage to enter the salon. The man at the counter directed her into a side room where a large, curvy woman waited. The woman positively beamed at her and guided her into a chair as she introduced herself pointlessly; not that she could have known that Ranthia was a terrible person who was almost pathologically incapable of remembering names. Ranthia had felt intimidated, but the mature woman¡¯s boisterous charisma broke through her guard and soon enough had her opening up. When she learned that Ranthia had [Cute] and its level, the woman, quite reasonably, assumed Ranthia had only recently acquired it. Ranthia had to shyly answer that she had taken the skill at unlock but had been terrible about doing anything that the skill actually liked. The woman promised that together they would fix that. Ranthia was impressed with the woman¡¯s zeal and chose to believe. The woman continued to engage Ranthia in conversation while she fussed over the youth. In her skilled hands (literally, skills were involved), Ranthia¡¯s short dark brown hair became a cute, stylish cut that added no length. It also gained a healthy gloss that her abuse had long prevented. Unwanted body hair¡ªmostly still unfamiliar to her¡ªwas eliminated as if it had never dared sprout. Her tanned skin even looked healthier. ¡°So let me guess, you¡¯re renewing your look because you met a cute guy, yeah?¡± The boisterous woman finally, now that Ranthia had relaxed enough, went for the obvious. ¡°¡­Girl, actually.¡± Ranthia confessed. ¡°Ooh, you just have to tell me all about her!¡± The woman smoothly responded. Ranthia¡¯s final defenses crumbled, and she responded eagerly. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. In the end, she bought an assortment of creams and scented body oils from the woman that promised to help keep her hair and skin looking their best and grant her a more appealing aroma. The next morning, an overpoweringly scented Ranthia returned to get clarification on dosages. That very evening Ranthia brought the lovely young lady just outside of town. They shared some sweets that Ranthia had bought¡ªher romantic interest liked them, she could deal¡ªwhile they relaxed together and watched the sunset. The girl sought Ranthia¡¯s hand. When the stars started to emerge, Ranthia sought her lips. The two shared their first kiss while the last bit of sunlight disappeared over the horizon. [*ding!* [Cute] has leveled from 67 to level 69!] [*ding!* Would you like to evolve [Cute] into [Sexy]?] [Sexy]: You have matured both physically and mentally and have embraced your femininity. Now wield it to draw more eyes and capture more hearts! -24 Mana Regen Rate. Had Ranthia gotten the joke involved in the upgrade offer she might have rejected it out of hand, but instead she happily accepted. Part of her¡ªthe part that remembered, in some vague sense of the word, that she was (probably) once an adult¡ªbalked a little at the notion of a not-quite-15-year-old being [Sexy], but the rest of her quashed that sentiment mercilessly. Besides, she had just shared her first kiss with her girlfriend. She was ready for the second. And many, many more. Ranthia restrained herself from taking the relationship quite as far as she had sorely been tempted to. Not that she¡ªor her girlfriend¡ªheld out very long thereafter. After that stage in their relationship, Ranthia was positively bubbly for weeks, which amused Pupius almost as much as it annoyed Tatius. She redoubled her efforts on her Adventuring though, with vague dreams of earning a vast pile of rods and marrying her sweetheart. She mostly operated solo, but on occasion she teamed up with her¡ªlargely former¡ªguardians when the right job came in. [Reflections of Reality] had proven to be downright obnoxious to level. The skill seemed to spit out the rare level only grudgingly when she really risked life and limb against a threat that could end her with ease if it could get past her tricks, made worse by how rarely she was able to use the skill. Mana potions had become her largest expense by a huge margin, which made it all the more difficult to earn excess coin. At some point, arcanite was a better investment, but the stones were rare and egregiously expensive out in Sardonia. None of the local mines produced it, and relatively few merchant caravans bothered to come out so far. And, naturally, those that did weren¡¯t exactly paragons of great bargains. More than once Ranthia got to briefly experience what it felt like to be maimed or crippled before she shifted to another mirror image body¡ªor her original body¡ªand threw herself back into the fray. Pain quite rapidly became familiar. It wasn¡¯t always a warning of something best avoided any longer; with her build it was just another obstacle to the optimal flow of battle. Her combat style was often aggressive, so recklessness was just a spice that she could finally indulge in. ¡­So long as she was cautious about her mana and her ability to [Channel]. Ranthia¡ªtogether with Tatius and Pupius¡ªhad taken on a job to investigate a missing supply convoy that should have arrived several days earlier. In all likelihood there was just some delay, it would have been far from the first, but it always paid to check. Not that it stopped them from having a bit of fun. Pupius and Ranthia raced, not that Ranthia stood a chance even when Pupius restricted himself to moving backwards and hopping. Still, it was fun, and Ranthia gamely pushed on until they erupted into a clearing that was often used as a campsite for convoys, located just off the road. Pupius had won, but when Ranthia reached him¡ªeager to catch her breath¡ªshe completely missed how still Pupius had become. ¡°Ornithocheirus!¡± The man screamed. There was raw horror in his voice. Ornithocheirus were the winged dread that all within Remus feared. Every errant cloud caused every man, woman, and child in its path to freeze and look up. For many who had endured an attack from one of the swarms, a single bird in the sky triggered such dread and terror that they had to rush indoors until the sky cleared. Ranthia knew of them¡ªher chaotic knowledge even vaguely noted the danger they posed¡ªbut she had never actually dealt with a swarm. She had only seen them from a distance, bound in a different direction. She had never truly respected what they represented. Death. There was pure panicked terror sculpted onto the faces of the men while they all desperately fled. Ranthia¡ªbriefly¡ªtried to disrupt the pursuit of the flock of murderbeasts with her usual tactics but they just¡­ swarmed. [Reflections of Reality] was a suicidal tactic, utterly useless in the face of the wonton destruction and absolute presence of the flock. Her images were destroyed¡ªoften by a mass of divebombing beasts¡ªfar faster than she could shift even if she actually had the [Channel] primed. [Boosted Reflexes] wasn¡¯t fast enough to give her warning, if she relied on it, she¡¯d just end up killed. The damned things even divebombed faster than Pupius could handle. Over and over, Ranthia desperately sent out images with [Scattered Reflections] as far away from them as possible while the trio crashed through the woodlands in a desperate attempt to escape. Unfortunately, the bulk of the flock seemed to favor what they perceived as the largest concentration of food. Ranthia wasn¡¯t able to get enough images together at once to distract the bulk of the flock before they were destroyed by the odd few dinosaurs that went for them. Ranthia¡¯s lungs burned. For the first time in her second life, she knew true immediate terror. She would have prayed to Xaoc for a miracle had she just had a single moment to spare¡ªher usual rules be damned¡ªbut the slightest distraction promised a swift end. If she was struck, Tatius and Pupius couldn¡¯t save her. And she hoped they wouldn¡¯t sacrifice themselves to try. They escaped, but it wasn¡¯t unscathed. Pupius had a nasty wound from a near miss by one of the accursed divebombing murderbeasts that had just¡­ erased a chunk of flesh from his forearm, along with the leather armor that had protected it. Tatius had abandoned the bulk of his gear, having thrown it at some of the winged horrors. All he had left was his spear and the bits of armor that he couldn¡¯t remove while on the run. All in all, between the lost (and subsequently destroyed) equipment and Pupius undeniably in need of a [Healer], the mission was an incredibly expensive failure. That was part of being an Adventurer¡ªRanthia knew well that the profession was notoriously risky¡ªbut Ranthia had never quite appreciated the truth of how thin a line lay between success and financial ruin. It was the first time since their first kiss that Ranthia wasn¡¯t even in the mood to do more with her girlfriend that night than just cuddles beneath the stars. She was just fine, they all were. Even Pupius was fine after a visit to the town¡¯s solitary [Healer]. Still, Ranthia had to continually remind herself of that while she spent time with the young woman that was the object of her affections. She knew without a single doubt that she¡¯d still cringe every time that a bird flew overhead for a long while and that she had forever joined the population in wary checks of the sky any time a cloud blocked the light of the sun or her beloved moons. But for that moment, she was just fine and was happily cozily entwined with her girlfriend. After Tatius, Pupius, and Ranthia pooled their funds¡ªand they finished judging her for just keeping her coin in a box under her bed¡ªthey had just enough money that they could resupply Tatius with the bare essentials. It had been a near thing though, after the expense of Pupius¡¯ healing. Unanimously, they decided that they needed to find another job the moment that Tatius was confident with his new equipment. The best job they could take was slightly old, a manhunt for a Water [Mage] that was wanted for drowning multiple people across several different towns. It was a rare job to clean up where Rangers had failed, though it promised to be an obnoxious hunt with a trail so cold. They had seen the job on the board before, but had never been interested in it. It was a risky blend of dangerous and investigative, but they needed the money. Naturally, on their way out of town the trio passed by the ¡®missing¡¯ supply convoy. The convoy had just run late after all. It was the first time any of them had set foot in Remus proper¡ªSardonia was in Remus, but it was so isolated that they might as well have been removed from their ¡®empire¡¯¡ªin over a year. None of them had planned to settle down, but it just kind of happened. The men seemed to be glad to be back on the road, but for Ranthia she was just struck with a sort of loneliness that she hadn¡¯t felt since she landed in the care of the men. She still loved them, they were great, but they weren¡¯t her girlfriend either. At least it was only temporary. There was still unrest and apprehension in nearly every town they passed through as they sought information about their mark. Many were still hesitant about their new emperor, and there were rumors of some controversial new policy that was slowly spreading throughout Remus that ¡®changed everything.¡¯ At least the rumors made it easier for Ranthia to convince the men to return to Sardonia once they found their mark. It was, allegedly, fairly typical. The one that led them to their target was a jilted lover that the target had left heartbroken. The (literally) [Pretty] young man gave them clear details about where to find his (impressive profanity omitted) ex. Their mark had allegedly upgraded at least one of his Water [Mage] classes into the advanced element, Mirage. Using his new abilities he had supposedly replaced a ¡®missing¡¯ wealthy investor¡ªno doubt yet another victim¡ªand lived inside the man¡¯s estate. According to the jilted young man, their mark¡ªLacintus¡ªwas still not entirely great with his Mirage abilities and struggled to convey realistic emotion with his duplicates. Also, allegedly, Pupius was exactly the man¡¯s type. Not bad for freely volunteered information. They hadn¡¯t even needed to intimidate or bribe the young man! Life as an Adventurer meant sometimes that trivialities like laws needed to be set aside. They were on a proper official job from Remus as a whole, which meant in theory that they had the right to coordinate with the town guard. In practice, none of them wanted to try to convince the guard to participate in an unannounced intrusion into a wealthy man¡¯s estate based on the word of one (1) emotional young man. Instead, late one moonless night, Pupius picked a lock¡ªa skill Ranthia hadn¡¯t known he possessed, she solicited a promise from him to teach her another time¡ªand the three crept into the estate. There was only one word to describe an estate that was wholly devoid of staff or slaves in the dark of the night: creepy. The trio soon separated as they checked individual rooms and parts of the estate. They kept to the same general area to stay within rapid response range of one another, but the estate was too large for them to stay together while they searched. It would have been all too easy to miss their mark entirely if they had. Plus, the guy was estimated to be approximately Ranthia¡¯s level, with an advanced element that couldn¡¯t kill anyone in at least one of his two classes. They were fine. Ranthia opened her 16th bedroom door¡ªseriously why would anyone ever require so many large bedrooms¡ªand found herself face-to-face with a man that looked exactly how Lacintus had been described. Somewhere between her height and Pupius¡¯, blond hair, pointed chin, pale blue eyes. The man had a stricken, panicked look on his face and froze in position. ¡­Except [Identify] returned nothing. Even when Ranthia gave it a moment, just in case the skill was being weird again. ¡°Nice try, you¡¯re better at your Mirages than I heard.¡± Ranthia snarked, before she turned away. He had to be clo¡ª The blow made Ranthia stumble into the wall. Momentarily she was knocked senseless when the thick¡ªand likely expensive, which seemed like a strange thing for her to fixate on¡ªvase was smashed into the back of her head. The man shoved her as he ran past, but she still refused to go down. She just braced herself against the wall and shook her head until it cleared. ¡°He¡¯s here!¡± Ranthia called out as soon as she was able. Ranthia forced herself to pursue and her footing stabilized quickly once she started to move. Her head throbbed and she was sure she¡¯d feel blood if she checked her hair, but she wasn¡¯t down. She had enough vitality to shrug off even that shattered bit of expensive pottery, at least for the short term. The fact that [Identify] hadn¡¯t recognized the man as there was¡­ strange. She had no doubts that the one that had attacked her had been exactly the man she shrugged off as an illusion. There were only two possible explanations. The first would have, under ordinary circumstances, been the only possibility: their mark had some sort of skill that helped him hide from skills like [Identify]. ¡­But her skill had been oddly delayed enough times in recent memory that she hesitated to completely write off the second possibility. Was there something wrong with her [Identify] skill? ¡­The skill that claimed to have been bound to her by a wholly impossible act. The odds felt high enough that Ranthia decided not to call out a warning that the man might be resistant to [Identify]. There was no room for distractions like arguing with the men about whether or not a Skill could go ¡®off.¡¯ Pupius caught up to her swiftly. They had both levelled more than once since Ranthia last asked, but she and Tatius had very similar speed stats at that point, which meant that the heavily geared man would be hard-pressed to catch up. Pupius took point as they wound through the dark hallways¡ªsaved from collisions at every turn by the glory of dexterity¡ªand soon found themselves bolting out a doorway that led beyond the town walls. ¡­Seriously, how did anyone consider giving someone rich a way to bypass the city walls and checkpoints a good idea? Pupius came to an immediate halt. A thick fog had engulfed the entire area. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have dared to come after me, Rangers!¡± Their quarry called out. He seemed to be operating under some severe misconceptions, but neither Ranthia nor Pupius seemed inclined to correct him. Slowly, they got a bit of distance from each other while they peered into the wispy depths of the fog. Not that they could see much, between the fog and the lack of light. Naturally, Tatius was the only one of them that carried a torch. ¡°There!¡± Pupius suddenly roared as he lunged into the depths of the mist. Ranthia hurled a curse after him. Of all the reckless, stupid¡­! Pupius¡¯ voice could be heard from the depths while he called out, over and over again, that he had eyes on their target, but Ranthia couldn¡¯t see him or their target. Ranthia moved slowly through a shallow area while she awaited Tatius. They needed more illumination, and they needed to stick together in such a quagmire. [Boosted Reflexes] warned her before her eyes caught the movement in the mist. Ranthia trusted herself to her skills while she turned. Her knife caught the short sword and, while she lacked the strength to turn it aside, it gave her the leverage she needed to dodge out of the strike¡¯s path. Ranthia counter-attacked with a string of profanity, which helped Pupius realize that he¡¯d almost run her through before he even made out who he saw through the mists. ¡°Gods, Ranthia I¡¯m so sorry, I saw him running this way, and¡­¡± Pupius stammered, ashen-faced. ¡°He¡¯s using Mirages, you idiot! Illusions! The fog makes it easy for him!¡± Ranthia lambasted him, once she was done with her curses. Their quarry laughed, somewhere in the mists. ¡°We can¡¯t just let this shit escape!¡± Pupius declared, practically half-ready to lunge back into the mists. ¡°No! Bad, stay!¡± Ranthia snapped. ¡°¡­I¡¯m not a dog.¡± Pupius all but whined. ¡°What¡¯s your plan, then?¡± Tatius¡¯ voice reached them shortly before he did. Ranthia just smiled into the mists. ¡°Poor guy has no idea who he¡¯s challenging.¡± She promised the men. Now that they were, finally, both present and accounted for, Ranthia was able to begin her counterattack. As swiftly as [Scattered Reflections] allowed, Ranthia sent image after image into the mists. Her skill required line of sight, and the fog proved to be a strange partial obstacle. It restricted how far she could initially send an image, but she had no trouble using her other skills to manipulate the images. [Reflective Motility] allowed her images to walk further into the depths of the swirling mist. [Echoes Reflected] still let her cackle through her images, albeit with a strange, inhuman crackle due to the distortion of the low level skill. Ranthia sent as many images as her current skill levels allowed into the mists and had them roam about, knives drawn, intermittently unleashing random cackles. [A Looking Glass] wasn¡¯t useful, since it distorted and limited what she could see on top of the low visibility from the lack of light and the thick fog, but she didn¡¯t need it. She just needed to wait for one of her images to find the guy. After all, if all of her other skills still worked¡­ [Reflections of Reality] would bring her straight to their quarry, and all she needed to do was find him. She absolutely wasn¡¯t going to start using [Channel] yet though, she was having enough trouble focusing on keeping so many images mobile. She might have seriously underestimated how much of an obstacle the focus [Channel] required could be. Time ticked by. Pupius was all too quick to point out every bit of movement that he thought he saw in the fog, but Ranthia was patient. She just focused on her task and trusted Tatius to keep the man from doing something (else) idiotic. And then, at long last, the fog vanished as if it had never been there. ¡°P¡­ please! I give up! Just no more knives! Everywhere I look there¡¯re cloaked women with knives!¡± The small, desperate voice of a broken man cried out. Ranthia had one of her images confirm that he was real, then finally Pupius was unleashed to restrain the guy. Ranthia was nursing a bit of a headache from managing so many images¡ªeven if the fog had reduced a lot of the overhead effort that she usually had to expend on realism¡ªbut it was worth it. Bringing the guy in alive was probably worth a bonus. Book 1 - Chapter 16 - A Void of Her Own Making Life as an Adventurer meant that you were always one bad day away from utter ruin, assuming you even survived. There was an obvious flipside to that though, sometimes you were just a good day away from a sudden reversal of fortunes. The powers that be were very grateful to receive Lacintus alive. And, for a rare¡ªbut very welcome¡ªchange of pace, gratitude directly correlated to cold, hard coin. Which was great, because Ranthia had basically turned every coin they had left into food and inhaled it while the men got paid. She was thrilled to be able to have seconds too; expending large quantities of mana for a prolonged period of time required a lot of nutrients. Then, of course, there were other things that delayed their journey back home a bit, but it was worth it. In the end, Tatius was fully reequipped, and his new armor was far more durable and resilient than his old gear had been. He mostly nerded out over his new bow though, during their return trip. Ranthia learned more than she had ever wanted to about the materials that bows could be made from. It was kind of cute to see the man so energized and excited about a topic though, since Tatius tended to be so reserved normally. Ranthia had waived the opportunity to buy her own armor. It would have put them back into lean finances, it would have delayed them considerably to get something customized for a woman¡¯s build, and Ranthia wasn¡¯t entirely sure how much further her body would develop. Plus, she just didn¡¯t like the armorer, even if the man did solid work for Tatius. It was the same old thing with the armorer. The worst part about being a woman and an Adventurer was that everyone made the exact. same. jokes. Often repeatedly, because nothing made poor attempts at humor more endearing than endless repetition. Was ringing the gong with a jump kick even remotely necessary? No. No, it was not. Tatius was yelling as much at her while he sprinted to catch up, just in case she was somehow unaware. But she was impatient! The gate opened a short time later, before the ongoing echoes of her unconventional gonging had ceased. ¡°Adventurers, returning successfully from a job abroad!¡± Ranthia announced loudly. ¡°Yes, I remember you three; it¡¯s been less than a season since you all left. I was already opening the gate.¡± The guard grumbled. ¡°And it¡¯s great to see you again too, guardface #3.¡± Ranthia replied sweetly, even as she tried to dodge around the man to get inside the city. ¡°My name¡¯s Primus, and you called me guardface #2 last time!¡± The guard moodily retorted. ¡°Didn¡¯t ask~¡± Ranthia quipped, already sprinting into town. ¡°You still need to do something magical!¡± The guard called after her. Ranthia leapt into the air and twirled¡ªwhich allowed her cloak to billow out impressively¡ªbefore she landed and continued her sprint toward a certain apothecary. She had a girlfriend to kiss. ¡­Among other things. She¡¯d let the men debate whether her impressive bit of style counted as magical. Adventurer Names were an ancient tradition, or so everyone liked to claim. No one got to choose their own name, of course. Their peers granted them their moniker. And no one was allowed to call themselves by their own moniker, they would be taunted mercilessly if they did. It was even taboo for someone in the same party to use it, unless the person in question truly hated it. The moniker was something for others to use for¡ªor against¡ªthe owner. If you were lucky, you got named after an impressive move that was relatively unique, or some great feat. Most people got names they hated, because people¡ªin aggregate¡ªwere jerks. Pupius got Whirling Edge. He claimed it was silly, but Ranthia never missed the subtle little grin he got when someone used it. Tatius got Prickly Turtle. Because he had Snapping Turtle, then got prickly and cranky over it and thus it became worse. When he was having a bad day, sometimes Pupius and Ranthia made a game of trying to work the component words into as many sentences as they could manage. It always cheered him right up. That, of course, was sarcasm. But true friends were able to savage one another when necessary. Ranthia hadn¡¯t quite gotten a name yet. Periodically people recommended Screamer for her. Which was unfair because that was her girlfriend, not her. Direct your noise complaints elsewhere! But the big reason why the name hadn¡¯t stuck was Ranthia, unlike Tatius, understood how to change Adventurers¡¯ minds. She only had to send someone to a [Healer] once. And so every time there just strangely wasn¡¯t enough consensus to leave her stuck with Screamer. Ranthia gritted her teeth and concluded her [Channel], finally shifting back to a mirror image that she had thrown out near Tatius. In theory, she should have been a perfect counter for this beast of a dinosaur. In practice, its thick armored hide seemed to turn aside even her [Blades of Darkness] enhanced strikes with minimal harm. The dino was a simple herbivore, just another ankylosaur, but the blighter was absurdly territorial. It had become a bit of a local menace for that area¡ªone that the Rangers would have likely been asked to handle the next time a team came through¡ªand then it attacked a full merchant convoy. The officials for the town were prepared to recommend that the town just bunker down and close the roads off until the Rangers arrived, but some son of some wealthy merchant was killed in the attack. Between that and the loss of goods¡ªknowing merchants there was no telling which was the dinosaur¡¯s greater sin¡ªthe merchants decided to put up a sizable bounty. The local Adventurer teams failed to take it down, so they sent a call out to other branches of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild and Sardonia¡¯s Guildmaster decided to throw the best team he had on-hand at the problem and see what happened. The trio were more than a little flattered to be called the ¡°best team,¡± even with the qualifier. Pupius and Ranthia were raring to go and all but dragged Tatius out of town, eager to become lauded heroes once again. Unfortunately, both Ranthia and Pupius seemed to be able to do little more than piss the raging creature off, which was admittedly still a minor accomplishment with how furious the beast already was. Tatius was armed with his brand-new weapon, a gigantic war hammer that had a vicious spike instead of a flat head. That weapon, at least, promised to do real damage to the dino¡­ if Tatius managed to ever get a good hit in. The dinosaur seemed to be aware of which one of them actually posed a threat and kept its distance from him, even when Ranthia and Pupius tried to draw its attention. Something that big and that resilient had no business being so damned quick. ¡°This!¡± Pupius roared, as he activated [Dervish] yet again, but the dino simply spun along with the blades, yet again, which meant they did little more than draw a thin, harmless line across the beast¡¯s hide. Again. ¡°Is not!¡± Pupius grunted as he fled the dino¡¯s attempt to crush him beneath its club-like tail in response. ¡°Going well!¡± Pupius finished, once he had enough breathing room away from the angry dinosaur. ¡°It¡¯s obnoxious enough that I keep double-checking that it hasn¡¯t spontaneously gained a class.¡± Ranthia muttered, as she triggered [Identify] yet again. ¡­And got no response, once again. For an instant Ranthia could have sworn that the skill¡¯s presence seemed to fuzz in her status for a moment, then suddenly it resumed working. And, once again, showed the dinosaur had no class, just the comparatively monstrous level of 437. ¡°Maybe if we keep whittling it down, I can manage to get a real hit in.¡± Tatius was always the optimist. ¡­Wait, no, that wasn¡¯t right. Ranthia was pretty sure the man was usually the one saying they should stick to safer jobs and give up on the more dangerous ones before someone got seriously hurt. They had been fighting for long enough that it almost hurt to think of anything outside of the immediate battle and the huge amount of datapoints that she had to track. So Ranthia refocused and tossed aside her concerns about Tatius¡¯ weird mood. She had more mana potions to choke down after all as she tried to hurry her mana back to useful levels. Once her mana was ready¡ªthough her stomach was feeling very sour over the mana potions¡ªRanthia started to [Channel] once again. While she did that, one by one, five more images were created using [Scattered Reflections]. Three moved to attack, two of which used [Mirrored Move] to activate false [Blades of Darkness]. At that point Ranthia¡¯s head felt ready to split, but she tried to focus through the pain, she just needed to hang in there a bit longer (no matter how clumsily her images were moving). The dinosaur was clever enough that it recognized skill uses and responded to them, though the how was always in question. The instant that [Boosted Reflexes] and [Knives & War] agreed how the dino was reacting, Ranthia released the [Channel], triggered [Reflections of Reality], and shifted to a mirror image near the dino¡¯s head. As swiftly as she could, she lashed out with [Blades of Darkness] for the beast¡¯s left eyeball, but it ducked its head just enough that she instead scored an all-too-shallow bloody gash across its headplate. Ranthia hurriedly retreated while the dinosaur crashed through all of the images that she had placed near the beast and was only narrowly able to run away¡ªin large part thanks to Pupius¡¯ efforts¡ªwhen the accursed creature tried to run her down. Pupius was still swearing over her attack failing, even as she fled. They knew that if they could just eliminate even just one of the beast¡¯s eyes the fight would have become so much easier. Ranthia just released her frustration; her aching mind had no space for anything else. Instead, she drank yet another mana potion while she watched for her next opening. Pupius had already closed in yet again and once again Tatius was, quite uselessly, trying to close in on the beast. Drinking so many mana potions was a bad idea. Two or even three were usually fine, but, at some point, everyone started getting far less out of a potion than they should. The body was slower to absorb it, and the effects were diminished. That got worse and worse the more you tried to cram in. Plus, every potion was, at least to some degree, a poison as well. At least every time she was able to shift to a new body it relieved the pressure on her bladder. That was the other downside to drinking so many potions. The battle raged on. Pupius savagely attacked and accomplished precious little other than drawing a little more blood. Ranthia tried to find opportunities to engage and, all too often, ended up forced to fight longer than she wanted to. Once again, she was reminded of the pain of having half of her lower body trampled by something that weighed more than a fully loaded wagon. Another shift¡ªone that she nearly lost her grip on the [Channel] for¡ªsaved her life, and another mana potion was consumed. She wasn¡¯t even sure if she was getting any benefit out of them anymore. It was getting to be almost impossible to focus on the numbers through the agony of her mind. Once she had enough mana for another shift¡ªjust how long had the fight been dragging on?¡ªRanthia focused on her [Channel], unable to even bother with another image anymore, while she waited for her next opportunity and Pupius fought on with clash-and-retreat tactics. And then Pupius was clipped in the side by the beast¡¯s tail. He had, ever so slightly, lost his footing on a bit of blood on the grass, which slowed him down just a little too much. The man hit the ground and rolled. Tatius shouted. Ranthia probably screamed. The dinosaur went straight for Pupius. He looked so small in that moment, face-down in the grass, with a gigantic, armored fiend of a beast bearing down on him. She needed [Reflections of Reality] to be instant, but it was never instant. Ranthia threw an image directly into the dinosaur¡¯s path, midway between it and Pupius, concluded her [Channel], and shifted to it without even thinking. All her tortured mind could focus on was how many heartbeats it had taken. She lunged straight for the beast¡¯s right eye with both knives, completely confident that it was going to turn left to evade. She just had to land her strike with one of them¡­! [Knives & War] led her astray, the beast instead turned right. Her knives missed its head entirely. And, instead, her [Blades of Darkness] enhanced knives both slid perfectly into a soft spot near where the right front leg met the torso. It sure didn¡¯t look like a soft spot, nor had [Critical Strike] ever noticed a vulnerability there, but her knives bit in deep. Then Ranthia¡¯s knives ended up ripped straight out of her hands as the monstrous dinosaur howled in pain and stumbled away. The beast shoulder-checked Ranthia as it went, but she wasn¡¯t badly hurt when she hit the ground. Bruised ribs at worst. ¡­Okay, maybe one of them was broken, but she wasn¡¯t in desperate need to shift yet. Not that she had enough mana to shift again either way. The hobbled beast stumbled and struggled to keep its balance. It looked between Ranthia and Pupius, as if trying to decide which of them it wanted to reduce to red paste first. Pupius was slowly finding his feet, and, to Ranthia, the dinosaur seemed to select him. And then, at long last, Tatius closed in and brought his weapon down into the dinosaur¡¯s head with a vicious crack. The dinosaur tried to jerk away, but Tatius followed it doggedly and continued to repeatedly hammer away at its skull, while a bloodied Pupius¡ªwielding only a single sword¡ªhacked at its uninjured legs, in an effort to slow it further. The sounds of Tatius¡¯ spiked hammer were as beautiful as they were brutal. Crack! Crack! Crack! CRUNCH! [*ding!* Your group has slain an [Ankylosaurus] (Mountain, level 437)!] Ranthia just rolled onto her back once the party kill notification came through, exhausted and lightheaded. There was the thought that her ribs hurt, followed by increasingly detached thoughts. Were they even her ribs? What even defined ¡®her¡¯ while she was shifted? Would she even be able to recognize her own body when she returned to it? Slowly the feverish thoughts faded away and Ranthia¡¯s eyes reopened once she fought her way back to the then and there. Momentarily, Ranthia panicked that she¡¯d fainted or been knocked out during the battle. She was halfway to her feet¡ªhyperventilating¡ªbefore she finally recalled that they had killed the foe. Gods and goddesses, total exhaustion was awful.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. With no small amount of effort, Ranthia finally oriented herself and found where her true body was hidden. One [Channel] later¡ªwhen had her mana regenerated, had she really been down that long?!¡ªshe shifted back to it and, confident that she was herself again, dismissed the remaining¡­ image. Singular. That had been closer than she had known. A short distance away, Tatius rotated a chunk of dino meat, impaled on a branch, over the fire. A few paces further away from the fire, Pupius remained face-down, now butt naked, in the cool evening grass. Occasionally the newly clothing-challenged man groaned, muffled by the ground, about how sore and tired he was. ¡°Little Mage.¡± Tatius greeted fondly when she joined him. Ranthia eyed the roasting meat with disdain. To her, it seemed a terrible waste to not use such fine meat for a hearty stew. But she knew better than to give voice to that thought, Tatius would lecture her in a heartbeat if she complained about a hot meal. And she had nothing left in the tank to argue with anyway. Pupius asked a question into the ground. When no one answered, he repeated it. Then, at length, and with visible effort, he lifted his head enough to ask his question without it being garbled into nonsense. ¡°Did. You. Level?¡± And back into the grass his face went. After a moment, [Identify] worked again¡ªthe skill really seemed to be getting worse¡ªand she realized with a start that both of them had gained multiple levels each. Eagerly, she checked her own gains from the fight. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Sudden End] has leveled up from 87 to level 91! Per level: +5 Strength, +11 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +7 Speed from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana from your element.] [*ding!* [Dark Affinity], [Knives & War], and [Blades of Darkness] have leveled from 87 to level 91!] [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has leveled from 60 to level 63!] [*ding!* [Strengthen Blade] has leveled from 38 to level 73!] ¡­Whoof, she had abused her poor knives. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Shards of Reflection] has leveled up from 156 to level 164! Per level: +1 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +2 Speed, +7 Mana, +9 Mana Regeneration, +7 Magic Power, +7 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration and +1 Magic Power from your element.] ¡­What? [*ding!* [Mirror Spirit] and [Scattered Reflections] have leveled from 156 to level 164!] [*ding!* [Reflective Motility] has leveled from 86 to level 99!] [*ding!* [Persistent Imagery] has leveled from 45 to level 57!] [*ding!* [Mirrored Moves] has leveled from 29 to level 42!] [*ding!* [Reflections of Reality] has leveled from 11 to level 26!] [*ding!* Would you like to merge [Channel] into [Reflections of Reality]?] [*ding!* For reaching level 160, you have unlocked the Class Skill [Distorted Likeness]! Would you like to replace a skill?] [Distorted Likeness]: A subtle change to a mirror can entirely change the image that it reflects. Now you will be able to create and modify the images reflected by [Scattered Reflections]. More dramatic modifications possible with increased level. [*ding!* [Identify] has leveled from 156 to leve¡ª] [*ding!* [Identify] has leveled from 156 to level 164!] [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has leveled from 39 to level 40!] [*ding!* [Dodging] and [Boosted Reflexes] have leveled from 156 to level 164!] ¡°What in Xaoc¡¯s name?!¡± Ranthia screeched, not entirely sure about which wild or bizarre thing she was screeching about. [Reflections of Reality] felt all but impossible to level, yet it had gained 15 levels from a single battle. [Distorted Likeness] sounded ridiculously awesome if she could manage to figure out which skill to drop for it. [Identify] was really starting to freak her out with its weird issues. And, overall, just¡­ so many levels! [Sudden End] ¡®only¡¯ getting 4 levels felt unfair, but even she had to admit the class had just been wholly outmatched by the dinosaur. Her best blows did all of nothing and [Critical Strike] had completely misread her foe. Sure, her last blow had finally turned the tide, but it was a total accident. Thinking still felt hard, but Ranthia almost immediately decided to merge [Channel] in, it wasn¡¯t like she needed the skill for anything else¡ªoh Xaoc she must have been tired if she was even thinking such dangerous phrases. Still, she accepted the merger. [Reflections of Reality] kept the same name, but at the very end of its description ¡°Can be channeled.¡± was added. Which, honestly, was about all she could ask for. Both Tatius and a now upright Pupius¡ªput on some damned clothes!¡ª were staring at her impatiently after her outburst. ¡°Sorry, just¡­ a lot to process. Four levels in [Sudden End] and most of its skills, except [Strengthen Blade] which shot up like I was smashing my knives into a bony shell like an idiot or something.¡± Ranthia started. The men chuckled good naturedly at her joke. ¡°Eight levels in [Shards of Reflection], if you can believe it. With 15 new tasty levels in my beloved little skill that refuses to ever level. Plus, it absorbed [Channel].¡± That got appropriately impressed sounds from both men. ¡°But that said, my [Identify] skill seems to be getting worse. I know you two brush me off when I mention this, but something is seriously wrong with it. It stopped working entirely more than once during that fight and I got the level up notice for it twice except the first notice for it¡­ I don¡¯t know how to describe it; it was like the notification broke and the System had to try again. Plus, it didn¡¯t group the notification¡ªeither of them¡ªlike it was supposed to. And¡­ wait, how long were we fighting anyway?¡± Ranthia became side-tracked after she tried to estimate how many times she had used [Identify] during the fight. ¡°It wasn¡¯t even lunch time when we started fighting. The freaking sun had set before the stupid thing finally died.¡± Pupius whimpered. ¡°¡­By all the gods and goddesses that watch over us, no freaking wonder my stubborn skill leveled.¡± Ranthia muttered. The news seemed to add further weight to the burdens of her headache and exhaustion. ¡°Yeah, we really should head back to town.¡± Tatius suggested. ¡°Everyone probably thinks we died.¡± Pupius added. None of them made a move to get up, so Tatius returned his attention to the roasting meat. Pupius just bonelessly collapsed back into the grass. Silence descended, so Ranthia tried to make the mush that was left of her mind concentrate on her new class skill. It didn¡¯t seem like it would be essential for combat, but she still wanted it. It just sounded really fun, especially coupled with [Reflections of Reality]. Would she have made the same decision if she was in a better mental state? Irrelevant. The obvious options for replacement were [Echoes Reflected], [Persistent Imagery], and [A Looking Glass]. When she first classed up, she had kind of expected [Persistent Imagery] to be temporary, but she had gained a real appreciation for just how fragile her mirror images were. [Persistent Imagery] also was the only thing that protected her true body while she was shifted elsewhere, so it was staying. [Echoes Reflected] was the skill that let her defeat the Mirage classer, though it wasn¡¯t generally useful. Meanwhile, [A Looking Glass] had seemed invaluable when she first took the skill, but she rarely used it and she just knew that the skill¡¯s useful life was rapidly coming to an end as [Reflections of Reality] slowly leveled. Why settle for a peek when she could just shift (yes, mana gated her, but that¡¯d improve eventually too)? [Mirrored Moves] wasn¡¯t even up for consideration, the skill sounded pointless since it couldn¡¯t actually inflict damage, but the ability to fake out thinking targets was invaluable. Ranthia agonized over the choice for several long moments before her mind caught up with the fact that she had already made her decision. ¡°Losing a skill, be right back.¡± Ranthia informed Tatius and Pupius. She stood, uneasy, and shuffled a polite distance away, then selected to purge [A Looking Glass] and take [Distorted Likeness]. The wave of nausea forced her off of her unsteady feet immediately. On her hands and knees, she dry-heaved and suffered noisily for a small eternity¡ªlonger than it should have taken, but she was already in rough shape before it started¡ªbefore she finally crawled back; unable to trust her feet to carry her. Tatius patted her arm affectionately and served her a large cut of well-roasted and surprisingly tasty dino. The men drank wine while they ate, but Ranthia was completely content to just drink water with her food. She didn¡¯t trust her stomach at all at that point. She still wished that the dino had gone into a stew but promised herself that she¡¯d make some tomorrow if the meat hadn¡¯t gone too far off by then. The next day the three returned directly to Sardonia, victorious, with the dinosaur¡¯s mangled head and the carefully shorn off backplate in tow. The bony back had been Tatius¡¯ demand; he wanted to see if the town¡¯s crafters could turn it into a tower shield. They were nearly to the Adventurer''s Guild when Ranthia''s girlfriend erupted from the small crowd that had gathered to welcome them back, immediately leaping into Ranthia''s arms. The normally reserved young woman seemed to not mind the smell or the crowd, at least for the moment, while she cried and kissed Ranthia. Between frantic kisses she whined that she thought Ranthia had died. Ranthia just focused on kissing her girl until they were both reassured. That night, Ranthia slipped out of bed after she carefully disentangled herself from her lover¡¯s arms. They were sure to catch hell from the young woman¡¯s grandfather the next day over her staying the night, but neither of them had cared. Ranthia¡¯s head felt much better, finally, and she had become restless with her impatience to experiment with [Distorted Likeness]. A certain naughty part of her mind had even imagined several ways she could use the skill to surprise her girlfriend, which helped to drive her into experimenting immediately instead of being reasonable and waiting for morning. Plus, she¡¯d started channeling mana into [Reflections of Reality] a while ago¡ªit wasn¡¯t like she was using it for anything else. Ranthia figured that she should just need to focus on what she wanted her mirror image to look like when she activated [Scattered Reflections]. Skills were usually intuitive, but sometimes there was a bit of a learning curve. Gleefully, she envisioned a version of herself with some oh-so-slight, specific exaggerations. Then she activated [Scattered Reflections]. ¡­Something went wrong. Metaphorically, it was like her mental image popped like a bubble when the skill tried to grab it, and thus nothing appeared since [Scattered Reflections] failed to activate. Ranthia tried again and the same thing happened. And again. She took a deep breath; she was concerned but there was no reason to fret. Clearly the skill just worked a bit differently than she had expected. She had just been through this with [Reflections of Reality], after all. It wasn¡¯t a mana problem this time though (thankfully, she would have been so mad if she¡¯d needed [Channel] back already). Maybe she had, somehow, misunderstood [Distorted Likeness]¡¯s activation requirements; not that such a thing had ever happened with any of her skills ever before. Perhaps she needed to generate a mirror image first and then modify it. The thought calmed her, since it seemed a reasonable thing to try. Just as she always did, she activated [Scattered Reflections] to stick a mirror image just in front of her. ¡­And nothing happened, the skill seemed to reach for something that just wasn¡¯t there and failed to activate. Ice filled her veins as a cold panic bloomed at the center of her being. She tried again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. ¡°Nononono¡­ this isn¡¯t happening, this can¡¯t be real...¡± She whispered. [Distorted Likeness] had permanently altered [Scattered Reflections], it needed an image of what to create now. Desperately she pictured herself, but nothing happened. She dragged her water bucket near the window, so the moonlight caught it and tried to stare at her dim, unfocused reflection in it. Still nothing. She had been wrong, this wasn¡¯t at all like the problem with [Reflections of Reality], this was so much worse! At the edge of a blind panic, she dug through her gear¡ªheedless of the risk of waking her girlfriend¡ªfor her little polished metal mirror while she tried to think of everything she knew about her body, every single detail. She spent ages going through every single tiny feeling of when her muscles moved, every ache or pain she had felt, every little imperfection on her skin that hadn¡¯t been wholly erased by [Sexy]. Every shade of her skin, every piece of her anatomy. Her attractively styled short dark brown hair, a shade deep enough that it seemed black in faint light. Her brown eyes, a few shades lighter than her hair (though in her mounting panic she forgot the mirrored sheen that her eyes had gained when she first achieved [Reflection of Chaos] and gained an advanced element). When she could think of nothing else, nor find any other details with her too-small mirror, Ranthia shoved everything that she had assembled at [Scattered Reflections], unable to spare even a single thought to pray to Xaoc. It''d been hard enough to hold her concentration on the channel during the entire process. An image appeared where she wanted, but it was wrong. It was weirdly flat and muddied. It was worse than the images that she had created with [Image of Self] with her old class. Gods, the image¡¯s face looked more like it was drawn on, rather than part of its body. She still, impulsively, activated [Reflections of Reality] and slipped into the image. Ranthia existed within a total void. No sound reached her false ears. Her caricatures of eyes let in no light. Her painted skin had no touch. She wasn¡¯t even sure if she was able to move. At last, she panicked. But she couldn¡¯t even scream. There was no darkness, there was no light, there was no warmth, there was no coldness. All that she knew was a void, so bereft of existence that nothingness was all that it encompassed. It was a place that felt wholly incompatible with her continued existence. It denied her, it ignored her terror, and it eroded all that she was. It was oblivion beyond death. It was true void. An ageless span of existence continued as what was left of Ranthia desperately tried to channel her mana to activate [Reflections of Reality] blindly. She had no idea if she even still had the System, let alone the skill. She even tried to pray to Xaoc for guidance¡ªno, for rescue, blasphemy be damned¡ªbut she had no idea if her words could even reach beyond such an impassable void. The nothingness that she had consigned herself to. And then, quite suddenly the universe exploded into existence around her. Sound, sight, and sensation overwhelmed her as she found herself back in her true body. Ranthia collapsed against her tiny table and crashed to the floor as she screamed. There was only one whit of coherent thought within her. With a heart full of hatred, Ranthia erased the horrible, twisted prison that she had entrapped herself within and it vanished an instant before her girlfriend shot upright in bed. Ranthia was still screaming. Her mind was still overwhelmed by the endless sensations caused by mere existence as part of the world. And to her very soul she was still terrified of the true nothingness she had, however briefly, become. Even the sight of her naked lover did nothing to still her terror. The other young woman held her and tried to soothe her and assure her that everything was alright. ¡°No, it¡¯s not! I¡¯ve destroyed it!¡± Ranthia snapped angrily, once she rediscovered how to use her voice for something other than screaming. ¡°We¡¯re both fine, Ranthy-love,¡± and in that moment Ranthia hated that cutesy pet name with every fiber of her being, ¡°it¡¯s all okay. We¡¯re together and that¡¯s what matters.¡± ¡°My class¡ªmy goal that I devoted my entire worthless fucking life to¡ªis ruined! I can¡¯t use any of it anymore and I can¡¯t even hope to fix the problem for another 92 fucking levels! You don¡¯t know a damned thing! Just¡­ go! GET OUT!¡± Ranthia shrieked while she shoved the girl away. She completely ignored the hurt and confusion on the young woman¡¯s lovely, vapid face. Instead, she curled up on the floor and cursed herself. She had stupidly taken a cursed skill. Maybe she deserved to have remained lost within that void until it wore her away into nothing.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 15]
[Mana: 5466/11330]
[Mana Regen Rate: 6149]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 24]
[Strength: 299]
[Dexterity: 1278]
[Vitality: 772]
[Speed: 736]
[Mana: 1133]
[Mana Regeneration: 1238]
[Magic Power: 1095]
[Magic Control: 828]
[Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (164)]]
[Mirror Spirit: 164]
[Scattered Reflections: 164]
[Echoes Reflected: 39]
[Reflective Motility: 99]
[Persistent Imagery: 57]
[Mirrored Moves: 42]
[Distorted Likeness: 1]
[Reflections of Reality: 26]
[Class 2: [Sudden End ¨C Dark (91)]]
[Dark Affinity: 91]
[Knives & War: 91]
[Blades of Darkness: 91]
[Critical Strike: 63]
[Shadowed Steps: 85]
[Strengthen Blade: 73]
-
-
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 164]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 40]
[Soups & Stews: 66]
[Dodging: 164]
[Boosted Reflexes: 164]
[Fast Learner: 74]
-
[Sexy: 78]
Book 1 - Chapter 17 - Seeking Value and Saying Farewell Ranthia laid back down after the young woman left, but she never slept. Instead, she laid in bed and forced her eyes to stay open for as long as she could. Every blink made her shudder. When she closed her eyes, she was reminded of the terrifying nothingness that she had escaped. In many ways it was unfair of her mind. Darkness should have never reminded her of that void. Even darkness would have been something, but nothing existed there. Where there was truly nothing, not even darkness could hope to exist. Unfortunately, teenage minds were seldom known for their rationality and so Ranthia passed the remainder of the night terrified of her own eyelids. Her mind was torn in so many directions, most of them saturated with extreme levels of self-loathing. Ranthia was ultimately left unsure if she had really managed a single coherent thought as she struggled to just¡­ exist again. It hurt. Her senses still felt unfamiliar to her, even though she couldn¡¯t have possibly been trapped in the prison of nothingness that she had created for very long. She couldn¡¯t have even breathed in that prison of a body; had she been there for more than a short while she would have perished. ¡­Oh, look, she had created a new nightmare to obsess about. Had she died like that, would she have forever been trapped within that void until it finally eroded her into just another nothingness? At some point, well after the sun had risen, a loud bang echoed across the room. It scared her half to death and forced her out of her own head. The follow-ups, or perhaps echoes, of the banging seemed equally deafening. It took her many, many long moments to recall this was a perfectly ordinary sound; it was just someone knocking at her door. In that instant, Ranthia knew nothing about who she was or what she would do. She still was struggling to relearn how to exist. She was in no way ready or willing to speak to anyone or anything. Naturally, the damned knocking steadily grew more insistent. A certain less-lizard-y part of her mind whispered that if Tatius or Pupius decided something was wrong with her, the door would not be an obstacle past the point that they decided was polite. And if the door was broken down, well, that would be yet another thing she had to fix. She wasn¡¯t even sure how to fix herself, let alone something complicated like a door. Standing was an effort, even if she must have stood at some point to get herself into the bed. She was about to unbar the door and open it when she realized that she had never actually gotten dressed again after the evening¡¯s festivities with the young woman she had scorned so harshly. Somehow, she had never quite noticed, and a small portion of her mind tried to recall if she had carried her nudity over to the image she had failed spectacularly at. She squashed the thought and refused to remember. She didn¡¯t want to remember anything about her greatest failure. The barely avoided recollection still very, very nearly sent her back to bed, but the volume of the knocking further increased and successfully convinced her that she had very little time before the door became a problem. She probably should have called out to whoever was at the door, but she wasn¡¯t sure how to speak at that moment. Instead, she tugged on a men¡¯s tunic that probably¡ªdefinitely¡ªneeded to be washed and walked over and unbarred the door. It flew open¡ªfortunately it opened outward, so she wasn¡¯t maimed by the door¡ªand revealed both Tatius and Pupius. The men seemed momentarily at a loss. Ranthia just turned and returned to her bed and flopped bonelessly onto it once again. She had learned that standing took more work than just existing. Existing was hard enough. Tatius entered and came up to her while Pupius hung back. Both men seemed awkward and uncomfortable. A tiny¡ªoh so tiny¡ªpiece of Ranthia was amused by Tatius being the one that approached her, usually Pupius was the bolder one. After an indeterminate length of time, Tatius finally asked her what happened with¡­ a strange word she had never heard before? Perhaps it was some sort of name? She didn¡¯t think it was furniture or an object; she had never worked up the energy required to smash anything, no matter how cathartic that sounded. ¡°Who?¡± Ranthia finally asked. A frown and a look that she barely noted. There was intense scorn, but it washed past her without finding purchase. ¡°¡­Your paramour? We just found out you had a big, nasty argument with her. Heard there was screaming.¡± ¡°Oh, her. ¡­Wasn¡¯t her fault, don¡¯t worry.¡± ¡°Whose fault was it?¡± Tatius asked. The man was focused on his assumptions, and thus failed to ask the more relevant questions such as what happened. ¡°Mine.¡± Not a moment¡¯s hesitation there. Ranthia was sure that, if nothing else, everything was her fault. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯m worthless.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Pupius interjected, ¡°I¡¯m going to go kick that bitch¡¯s ass.¡± ¡°Stay.¡± Tatius barked. At least that saved Ranthia the trouble of trying to parse Pupius¡¯ words and figuring out if she needed to intervene. Instead, she dismissed the words from her mind. Having less to think about made existing just a tiny bit easier. Maybe she could get someone to stand near her and ask her simple questions for now on¡­ Things even she would know. Like ¡®Does it hurt?¡¯ or ¡®Who ruined everything?¡¯. Tatius sighed. With every fiber of his being, he really didn¡¯t want to deal with teenage relationship drama. It was his disinterest in having children that had been the largest part of his decision to never settle down and take a wife. But life had thrust a daughter he never asked for into his care and, ultimately, he wanted to do his best for her. And right now, she was in obvious pain; her eyes looked somewhere far, far away. ¡°Will you tell me about what happened?¡± He finally asked, as he awkwardly set a hand over hers. ¡°¡­I suppose it does affect you both. I can¡¯t be an Adventurer anymore.¡± The child¡ªstill so young¡ªanswered in her newfound strange¡­ empty tone of voice. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you can¡¯t get pregnant from another girl, silly!¡± Pupius quipped. Tatius gritted his teeth and made a note to punch his friend later. ¡°Why do you believe you can¡¯t be an Adventurer anymore?¡± Tatius asked, before Ranthia felt a need to respond to Pupius. ¡°My entire class is broken. I can¡¯t use any of the skills,¡± the pained teenager shuddered at something unseen, ¡°at least not in any way useful.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of such a thing¡­¡± Tatius prompted. She could be melodramatic sometimes. First the talk of a skill that had established behavior, namely misbehavior, and now this. For all that she pretended to act like an expert on the System and claimed to know things that no one could prove, she had some stupid ideas about it. Pupius finally came over and wedged himself in to sit on the edge of the bed, near her foot. He patted the foot affectionately. ¡°Which class was it? Just give us the details and we can work ¡®em out together.¡± Pupius offered, clearly having located his scraps of maturity. Tatius just waited, worried, while his daughter clearly struggled to formulate a response. Ranthia was silent for a while. Thinking required a lot of work for the proto-thing that her mind had degraded into, as she struggled to string the different concepts and ideas together again. It hurt, at first, but it gradually became easier to be Ranthia again. Perhaps, just perhaps, dissecting and solving a problem was something she knew intimately, something that may have been a pillar of her identity. ¡°[Shards of Reflection], I got a new skill for it, [Distorted Likeness]. Took it and dropped [A Looking Glass] for it. The new skill lets me modify the appearance of my mirror images that [Scattered Reflections] creates. What the skill didn¡¯t say is it means all my mirror images now need a complex, complete image of what they should be. I made my best effort last night; the result looked like something a child painted. Made the almost fatal mistake of using [Reflections of Reality] to enter it. Didn¡¯t think I was going to get out. I was trapped in a void.¡± Even to her own ears, her voice was cold and distant as she reported what had transpired. She struggled to keep the memories at bay while she filtered out the pertinent details. ¡°So¡­ like it was dark?¡± Pupius tried to engage her once he noticed Tatius going deep into thought. The teenager shuddered¡ªnearly outright convulsed¡ªwhen the well-intended question forced her back into that place for a terrible moment. Her mind¡¯s ability to recall would be a real problem. She needed alcohol¡ªshe had heard that it helped destroy one¡¯s ability to remember things. ¡°Darkness is something. I was in a place where there was nothing. I wasn¡¯t even sure if [Reflections of Reality] was activating as I tried desperately to use it everywhere to escape. There was no sight, no sound, no sensation, just¡­ nothingness.¡± She finally replied in a tiny voice that, perhaps for the first time ever, seemed young and vulnerable. She wanted alcohol, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to ask for it. The men just fell silent and were there for her. Tatius with his hand atop hers, not even holding it. Pupius with his hand on her foot, like a weirdo who had no idea how to be comforting. A teensy, tiny¡ªnearly unnoticeable¡ªpart of her appreciated their incredible awkwardness. In her opinion, most men in Remus seemed to be emotionally stunted and these two ex-soldiers embodied that in a huge way. But that emotional awkwardness that had become a source of comfort in and of itself. Not that the vast majority of the discombobulated mess that Ranthia had become appreciated it, but that miniscule piece of her was, ever so slightly, soothed. And all recovery started with a first, tiny act of healing. Or something. Life was weird when there were literal [Healers] that fixed the body. She just needed one that could repair her mind and soul. Everyone remained silent for a time as the men were just there, in the best way they knew how, for the girl that they had unintentionally raised for more than seven years. Neither Tatius nor Pupius could properly comprehend what had disturbed her so. But, for Tatius, it was enough that he could plainly see how it had affected her. Their individual misconceptions of what she experienced were irrelevant to what she had gone through. No soldier that had experienced the frontlines for any length of time was stupid enough to think his individual experience matched that of someone who had clearly been affected by worse. Only the upper leadership had that level of blind, willful ignorance. ¡°Perhaps with practice¡­?¡± Tatius ventured, at last. ¡°¡­Oh, you refer to the images. It took a lot of time to build that; even if it had actually worked, I can¡¯t fight like that.¡± Ranthia replied, her voice returned to the cold, distant tone instead of the scared youth. ¡°You still have your cool Dark knife class. I can help you train up your footwork better. You can dance around and wear ¡®em down with your knives while you build up your image and then bam! It¡¯ll be like an epic finishing move, worthy of the bards!¡± To Tatius, Pupius seemed way too enthusiastic about the idea. ¡°Speed is my second worst stat and anyone my level would end me with ease. A finisher is a single skill or a combination of skills. Not an entire class that provides no benefit until I can¡ªmaybe, someday¡ªuse a single skill from it.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll work on it; we¡¯ll figure it out. Together.¡± Tatius promised. Tatius never called them a family, not out loud. Perhaps the notion of a found family was too little known as a concept in Remus, or perhaps both he and Pupius were too emotionally stunted from spending the bulk of their adolescent lives in the military. Seven years spent traveling with a bizarrely mature child in tow didn¡¯t magically enrich them enough to overcome their own stumbling blocks. Had he said it, the word just might have helped Ranthia. Instead, as usual, she found herself in a position where she, ultimately, needed to save herself. Which was why she, instead, spent the next several days in bed, refusing to even eat. Eventually, she left her bed. A combination of factors drove her forward. Her gradual reassembly of herself. Hunger and thirst. The soreness that came from being prone and unmoving for far too long. The youthful difficulty of remaining still for too long. Boredom. And more than a bit of eagerness to relieve herself of her self-inflicted constipation. Also, the smell. A few days after that, once she had many bowls of over-simmered¡ªTatius had ensured a pot of it was always ready for her when she finally sought food¡ªrabbit stew in her belly, more than one long session at the baths, and just generally felt more like a complete real being again, Ranthia found herself in front of a place she had dreaded her return to: the apothecary where her (former?) lover lived and worked. Ranthia chickened out and went to the salon instead. Maybe if she was more [Sexy] and smelled lovely it¡¯d help her face the awkwardness. One session with her beautician later¡ªwith no levels for her since it was more like a return to somewhere close to where she once had been¡ªRanthia found herself back in front of the shop. She paced nervously as she tried to figure out what to do. What to say. She had very, very nearly convinced herself to leave and go buy flowers and sweets when the young woman¡¯s very old, very blind grandfather stomped out of the store and pointed directly at her. ¡°By all the gods stop making such a racket out here and get your wishy-washy butt inside and apologize to my granddaughter before I decide to just call the guards and be done with you!¡± Weirdly, that helped. A lot. In the end, Ranthia apologized politely. Her lover thanked her for the apology. They were in a strange place still, with neither quite sure where they stood. But they did¡ªbriefly¡ªhold hands again and agreed to spend time together the next day. That had to be enough to start. After, absent anything better to do¡ªthat she was willing to try, at least¡ªRanthia returned to her room, stretched, and began to practice her knife techniques for the first time since their battle against the dinosaur. The underground training area would have been too much, but this? This felt just right. Ranthia fell into a somewhat hollow routine. She divided her day into blocks. Three meals. A bath. Time spent with her lover. Time spent practicing with her knives. The order these things happened in was entirely irregular, but they were the only things she did. She steadfastly refused to try using any of her mirror skills again. Things were otherwise far from perfect as well. When Ranthia and her lover tried to spend time together as a couple, doing things other than making out or indulging in other physical acts of affection, they quickly learned that they had absolutely nothing in common. Their relationship had grown out of attraction and been almost entirely physical, with the odd romantic gesture made with the intent to lead to something physical. Ranthia had even gathered the ingredients and tried to cook for her lover, only to be mildly horrified that the young woman hated rabbit stew and, bizarrely, found hunting rabbits¡ªand only rabbits, because they were ¡°cute¡±¡ªbarbaric. They returned to just being physical together, but it was no longer the same for either of them anymore. The damage had been done. Ranthia knew that they would soon drift apart, but she lacked the motivation to truly try to stop the process. The pleasure they shared would probably be enough to keep them together at least a little longer. That had to be enough. None of her skills related to her [Sudden End] class seemed inclined to level from her formulaic training, nor did she pull out any more late natural stat points. She knew she would need to eventually do something more, but her motivation was slow to build back up. When Tatius and/or Pupius took an Adventuring job, the men made sure to track her down and invite her along, no matter what it was for. She always refused without hesitation though she, somewhat, appreciated the sentiment. Even if another part of her was exasperated that they had yet to take the hint that she wasn¡¯t an Adventurer anymore. Similarly, she made a real effort to avoid any encounter with the Guildmaster. She did flirt with other things to occupy her time. One particular project that she had become enamored with for its sheer potential as a distraction was learning to properly read and write. She could read a few basic things related to Adventurer work¡ªlike that mattered anymore¡ªand had learned to write what little she needed to for her former profession, even if her signature was simply a mark that she had invented that she presumed would be somewhat unique and recognizable. Surprisingly, the task proved to be difficult. Her lover¡ªshockingly¡ªdidn¡¯t know how to read or write either. The wooden signs had allegedly been written by her completely blind grandfather. Ranthia struggled to believe that her lover¡¯s only contribution had been to place the pieces of wood in very specific places on his desk, but, ultimately, she accepted that it would have been an extremely bizarre thing for the girl to lie about. None of the other Adventurers that Ranthia was remotely friendly with knew much more¡ªand often quite a bit less¡ªabout reading or writing. Each of them suggested the Guildmaster, but she stubbornly continued to avoid the man. Mid-autumn, there was a festival. The mines had encountered a new vein of silver, and the miners flooded into town to celebrate. The mines had been shut down while the companies brought in an expert [Surveyor] to discern the vein¡¯s size and purity, but spirits were high, especially since the miners were hopeful for bonus pay. A few small silver trinkets and simple jewelry were on sale¡ªthe bit that had been mined already¡ªwhile the town also celebrated the end of the harvest season. Ranthia danced with her increasingly distant lover. She enjoyed food. And she had a good internal laugh at the sight of a pair of silver wedding bangles that were for sale. The greatest irony there was that she could have¡ªjust barely¡ªafforded them had she still been delusional about her future with the young woman. Like most indefinite plans completely reliant on inertia, Ranthia¡¯s came to an end by force. While she was doing maintenance on her knives outside¡ªthe sunlight helped find spots she missed¡ªa female Adventurer that she respected came up to her. Bex¡ªhey, she had a cool, memorable name¡ªhad become an Adventurer young¡ªwell, older than Ranthia had been¡ªand made a name for herself until she decided she wanted to be a mother. She had a kid, raised him, then once he got old enough to gain independence, she returned to being an Adventurer. She was proof that a woman can pursue her dreams, even after childbirth. It was inspiring, even if Ranthia had absolutely zero interest in ever being a parent in any capacity. Bex nodded to her in greeting. Ranthia, politely, nodded back. Then Bex walked over, grabbed Ranthia¡¯s arm, and pulled her to her feet without saying a word. It was all Ranthia could do to sheath her knives¡ªthough she dropped her rag¡ªwhile Bex inexorably pulled her toward the Guildhall. Instinctively, Ranthia tried to throw a mirror image to the side with the intent to shift to it. The process was, obviously, unsuccessful since she lacked even the most cursory image¡ªlet alone whatever monstrosity of an image that it required¡ªin mind for [Scattered Reflections] to grab. It was just a well-worn, battle-tested instinct. And now it was useless. The fight left Ranthia, and she just allowed herself be pulled along with the woman. She didn¡¯t even ask where they were going or why. Soon enough Ranthia found herself seated in the Guildmaster¡¯s office. Bex had confiscated the knives from the wholly compliant teen just before Ranthia had been sat down and then the woman left with a grunt. Ranthia just kind of numbly sat in the chair and struggled to make herself look at the Guildmaster. ¡°I wanted to be the one to let you know. When this winter comes to an end, your caretakers are heading to Ariminum. I¡¯ve written letters of introduction for them to give to the Guildmaster there. Unfortunately, Adventurers rarely stay in the same town for more than a few years. Your guardians were promoted to A-Ranked after the battle with the ankylosaurus.¡± Ranthia very, very nearly missed the ¡®guardians¡¯ bit under the rest of her shock. Neither man had mentioned their promotion, she hadn¡¯t even been invited to their party! Still, Ranthia opened her mouth to protest that Tatius was her father, not one of her guardians. The Guildmaster held up a hand to stave her off. He removed a scroll from his desk and unrolled it in front of her. ¡°I¡¯m not as na?ve as the three of you might hope, young one. Do you know what this is?¡± Ranthia reviewed it. She caught a few words, but not enough to glean anything relevant. ¡°Nope. Can¡¯t read that well.¡± Inwardly, Ranthia cringed at how snippy she came off. ¡°Hrm, well this is a message from the Perinthus branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. You had once mentioned to one of the Adventurers that I asked to check in on you that you and Tatius had met Whirling Edge¡ªPupius¡ªthere. I only recently got my suspicions confirmed. ¡°You are a local girl who lived in Perinthus with your mother and a father that was executed by the 3rd Legion. Most whom the Adventurers there spoke to referred to you as unremarkable and ordinary, though a few, especially the children that had once played with you, noted that you seemed rather different after the plague nearly killed you. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t pry on the details about that. Seems you were saved by a [Healer] there who, oddly, wasn¡¯t in any of the songs I have ever heard about the plague. Then you and your mother left, with a few other sluggard townsfolk that would have been hard-pressed to withstand the leaner times as the town recovered. ¡°Tatius and Pupius were unknown to everyone in Perinthus, once you discount the obviously unreliable testimony. Oh, by the way, I thought you would like to know that less than a season after you left the Rangers finally located and executed a small group of bandits near Perinthus, so your hometown is now safe.¡± Ranthia¡¯s face went pale as she heard the news. The pieces clicked, instantly. Tatius and Pupius¡¯ comrades. The nice¡ªafter a fashion¡ªleader of the group that had helped Ranthia out so much and freed Tatius, Pupius and their friend to accompany the group. ¡­Shit, this meant their brothers in arms were dead. She had long since stopped treating the ex-soldiers turned bandits as noble, even in her own thoughts. They were men that wanted to be done fighting, yet the mere risk that they thought they might be sent back to the war had instead caused them to turn their blades on the very people that they were sworn to protect. The men weren¡¯t noble, even if they had supported her when no one else would.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Thank you for confirming my suspicions. Your guardians had far better control over their emotions at the news.¡± Malevolent mischief sparkled in the Guildmaster¡¯s eyes. ¡°¡­Fuck.¡± Ranthia whispered, suddenly afraid. Being disarmed suddenly took on an entirely new light. Especially now that she had inadvertently revealed she travelled with a pair of deserters who, worse, were also former bandits. ¡­And every other defensive response she had was broken, except for her evasive abilities. And, somehow, she doubted that [Boosted Reflexes] and [Dodging] could handle the level¡ªGods damn everything, why was [Identify] failing every time she needed it!? ¡°Peace,¡± the Guildmaster chuckled. ¡°Somehow, I feel like I¡¯d have a knife at my throat right now were you still armed. I don¡¯t mean any of you any harm, I just like to know about those under my charge. And, frankly, I needed to make sure I was completely certain about your situation.¡± ¡°¡­Okay¡­?¡± Ranthia was still guarded. She really had no idea how to feel anymore. ¡°You had been dragged along with a pair of men with¡­ difficult pasts, let¡¯s say. Even if you were only dragged as a tagalong since you were eight by Adventurers, even if one of them was truly your father like you had claimed, there were many potential circumstances where I would have been forced to see the men dead. ¡°Instead, I came to learn that you were not only there of your own volition, but you had specifically chosen them over your own people. You plainly thrived in your circumstances, but the important thing was that you chose them. Those men were still damned reckless, but perhaps they actually saved you from being far more reckless.¡± Ranthia had to admit, when viewed from the outside all of that made a lot of sense. The Guildmaster had a very major fact wrong¡ªher people had rejected her, after all¡ªbut the Guildmaster¡¯s take matched how she felt in her heart, at least. The Guildmaster seemed kindly and decrepit, though even she knew that was an act. He was sharp and iron-willed. ¡­If more than a little mischievous. ¡°Now that I¡¯ve settled your mind on that,¡± the scroll was rerolled and stored, ¡°allow me to return to what I was saying. Your guardians are heading to Ariminum. I cannot in good conscience write a letter of introduction for you at this time.¡± Ranthia opened her mouth, but the Guildmaster held his hand for silence and continued. ¡°I had actually quite looked forward to doing so. Yours was to be one of the finest, and most interesting letters of introduction I had ever written. You should have recently become a B-Ranked Adventurer, one with a virtually flawless track record. I don¡¯t need to tell you how unusual that is. In such a letter I would have been able to have honestly, and cheekily, stated that you could readily punch up to most A-Ranked jobs, even without your guardians¡¯ aide. As a trio, the three of you may just have had the potential to eventually surpass any of the capital¡¯s regular A-Ranked teams.¡± The Guildmaster sighed, lowered his hand and gripped his desk. The worn wood creaked. ¡°Instead, you have become lazy and accomplished nothing for weeks now. When I confronted your guardians, Tatius¡ªquite grudgingly¡ªadmitted that you had told them that you could no longer be an Adventurer. What I now want to know is why.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question; it was a demand made by the Guildmaster of his subordinate. Ranthia bit her lip and squirmed. She considered lying. Then she considered refusing to answer. She was about to insist that being an Adventurer meant nothing to her. Except... Except she knew in her heart¡ªfrom the instant she thought the words¡ªthat they were nothing but a lie. Being an Adventurer had been a dream. It suited her and fit her perfectly. ¡­Almost as perfectly as her broken class once had. ¡°I¡­ I got this new skill, [Dis¡ª¡± The Guildmaster struck his desk and shushed her before she could say more. ¡°Are you able to speak in abstractions? I would rather not know the details of your class or your skills, if possible. For your own protection, you understand.¡± Ranthia was somewhat startled, but she took a moment. It made sense; the fewer people that knew the full extent of her abilities, the better. Much could be surmised if someone watched her, but there was a clear difference between assumptions and direct knowledge. At length, she nodded and began anew. ¡°You¡¯re aware of how I was able to use the mi¡ª ¡­duplicates to counter Pupius. I gained a new skill that improved the skill at the core of that. Unfortunately, the description of the skill did not make it clear to me that it would change how the core skill worked. Now I need a detailed mental image of the duplicate¡­ but I can¡¯t do it. And certainly not well enough or fast enough for it to be¡­ viable.¡± She felt ridiculously awkward and clumsy as she tried to stick to words that seemed safe. ¡°Hrm, so it¡¯s a class where many of the skills are connected to the same core ability. Not unheard of. ¡­Apologies, I should not have voiced that aloud. However, a new skill changing the requirements to those you can¡¯t meet¡­ I¡¯ve never even heard such a thing. Would you allow me to, discreetly, make some inquiries related to this? In the meantime, while I¡¯m sure you have thought of this yourself, I want you to actually make a solid effort toward practicing these ¡®images¡¯ you mentioned.¡± Ranthia nodded her assent to his request to make inquiries. Maybe, just maybe, someone out there could help her. ¡°I¡­ can try, I guess. I don¡¯t see how I can do any better than I did before.¡± Ranthia felt much worse about his second request. ¡°Do try. Otherwise, I¡¯m afraid the Adventurer Ranthia will not have my blessing to go to any other branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild.¡± The Guildmaster gravely noted. Ranthia chose to stay silent. She didn¡¯t need his permission if she wanted to leave, but she knew better than to act out for no reason. ¡°Very well then, off with you. I will, of course, let you know once and if I learn anything useful from my contacts.¡± Ranthia stiffly nodded and exited the office. Only to run into Tatius almost as soon as she was out the door. He patted her head and gestured for her to follow him. Soon, she was sat in the¡ªsuspiciously empty¡ªtavern, with a bowl of fresh rabbit stew. Even Pupius was absent. Her knives waited for her next to the bowl of stew and she happily returned them to their sheaths. ¡°So, I take it the old man told you that Pupius and I are leaving in a few weeks?¡± Tatius began, once she tasted the stew. Ranthia nodded and ate. She knew that she really should tell Tatius that she had accidentally outed them as former bandits, but she was also more than a little mad at him for everything that he had kept from her. ¡°Mnm¡­ You have two choices. Three, I guess, actually. One, you fix your problem, get certified as a B-Ranked Adventurer and come with us. Not likely, given the timeframe, so I guess really it¡¯s just the two choices. Either you can stay here until you¡¯ve worked out your issues and gotten certified as a B-Ranked Adventurer¡­ or you can give up on being an Adventurer and come with us as just a simple teenage civilian. We¡¯ll do our best to do right for you, if you want.¡± Tatius seemed uncomfortable. Ranthia felt tears threatening to form and tried to blink them away. To buy herself time, she rapidly consumed several spoonfuls of stew. ¡°¡­Either I say goodbye, or I give up and accept that I¡¯m worthless and have no future.¡± The bitter words slipped from her mouth, then the tears came anyway. Angry and bitter, Ranthia wept into her stew. ¡°Hey, no. None of that Little Ma¡ªRanthia,¡± a bit late he probably realized that calling attention to her damaged class was a poor idea, ¡°either way you are never worthless. You¡¯re still a wonderful young woman.¡± He sighed and quietly watched her cry and poke at her slightly saltier stew with newfound disinterest. ¡°Ever since I first met you when¡ªwell, you know¡ªyou¡¯ve seemed like you were in a desperate race to grow up and become something¡­ more. You were 8 and you faced down that idiot Gnaeus with nerves of steel that even most trained soldiers lack. Trust me, I¡¯ve lived the frontlines, I¡¯ve seen far too many nerves just fail and men who came undone before the formorian onslaught. ¡°Then you sought Pupius and me out. You wanted to become an Adventurer, just like us. We brought you with us and you did everything you could to help. The damned first instant you became¡ªto your own judgment¡ªcombat capable you joined in on the fighting. Then you barely became a teenager and got a girl and started fucking constantly.¡± Ranthia shot him a glare through her tears. ¡°You do realize the complaints you got from those that live in the rooms around you went straight to me, right? Let alone the complaints from the guards and other businesses when the two of you couldn¡¯t be bothered to use your room. The two of you were never exactly quiet.¡± Ranthia¡¯s face turned scarlet. She found it wildly unfair that the awkward man¡ªsomehow¡ªobviously didn¡¯t feel incredibly awkward talking about her sex life and could be so frank about it. ¡°Look, my point is, you¡¯ve always done everything you could to be an adult. Now,¡± he paused for a sigh as he built himself up to do something that he knew would hurt her, ¡°now I¡¯m asking you to decide if you¡¯re going to do it again, or if you instead want to give up and just be young. It¡¯s your choice, but you have to do one or the other.¡± Ranthia reacted as if he had struck her. The teenager¡¯s face went through the gamut of emotions in short order, probably inventing a few new ones, given some of the weirder expressions she pulled. Tatius didn¡¯t¡ªwouldn¡¯t¡ªlaugh. This was far too important. ¡°I need air.¡± Ranthia muttered. She then got up and left without waiting for a response. She just wandered aimlessly and let her emotions flow. She wandered for a long time and eventually found herself in front of her lover¡¯s apothecary. She supposed some part of her wished for physical comfort while she tried to work out her emotions. She was still a mess and her face was sticky, but she entered anyway. ¡°You. My granddaughter wanted me to give you a message. She doesn¡¯t want to see you anymore, she said that it¡¯s done. She has come to regret you. So leave, and don¡¯t you dare enter my store again.¡± The old, blind man¡¯s voice was ice cold. A dozen terrible urges entered Ranthia¡¯s mind. Instead, she sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to nod and answer. ¡°¡­Very well, let her know that I¡¯m¡­ sorry.¡± Ranthia managed a respectful tone. ¡°I won¡¯t. Get!¡± Ranthia left. Her apology hadn¡¯t been for her ex-lover¡¯s sake anyway, so the old asshole¡¯s refusal didn¡¯t really matter. The apology was born of self-loathing, what it truly meant was that she was sorry for making her ex deal with her for all that time. Ranthia resumed her wandering. Ranthia spent a full week aimless. She woke up before the sun rose and quietly snuck out of her room, making full use of [Shadowed Steps]. She then just¡­ walked. With no destination, sometimes in town, sometimes beyond its walls. She managed to force herself to eat a meal or two per day in various ways while she was out. Then, well after dark, she returned and crept back to her bed for restless sleep. Again and again she repeated the motions. Yet, it seemed that someone with drive and purpose could only feel sorry for herself for so long. Ranthia woke up one morning before dawn, immediately walked into the local temple, found an unsecured broom, and started to sweep the temple grounds. For ages now¡ªever since she had escaped the void that she had trapped herself within¡ªshe had been too ashamed of herself to pray to Xaoc. She knew that He was disappointed in her. But, at last, the guilt had outgrown her self-loathing. She needed penance. When the local priest and temple worker arrived¡ªjust one of each, and she should have been surprised to see the habitually absent priest¡ªthey were both quite alarmed. The two men tried to gently encourage her to stop cleaning. She ignored them as they had numerous whispered conversations. She just¡­ cleaned. When she finally left, a runner found her and asked her to come to the Guildhall. The man at the front desk handed her a small pouch of coins and made a show of taking a job form from her that he produced from his sleeve. He thanked her for taking the job to help clean up the temple. And gave her a look that said she better not argue or refute him. Ranthia rolled her eyes and returned to the temple, determined to return the coins. When the priest refused to take her money, she sought their donation box, only to find that it was conspicuously absent. Instead, she made her way to the market and waited for the peak crowd¡­ such as it was. She offered the coins to the cause of chaos, then removed them from the pouch and tossed them into the crowd. She had no reason to watch the little scuffles and incidents that ensued. The coins were given for the sake of chaos, not some twisted personal gratification. Oddly, after that, she actually felt better. She made her way back to the temple and knelt before the altar to Xaoc, for the first time in entirely too long. She prayed¡ªfinally¡ªand apologized to her god and promised Him that she had found her path forward. To stay in place was, after all, the opposite of chaos. She, for the first time, made her decision and spoke of it to Him before she had even thought through the full ramifications of her decision. For all she knew¡ªafter all of her trouble with [Shards of Reflection]¡ªshe might have been cursed by Seira. Ranthia could all too easily imagine the horrid goddess making efforts to undermine Xaoc¡¯s most loyal subject. But she had overcome the issues with [Reflections of Reality] and she would overcome [Distorted Likeness]! She also apologized to Xaoc for the lack of chaos that she had wrought in Sardonia. The town was small enough that there were precious few opportunities for mischief that didn¡¯t cross her own ethical lines. But if¡­ no, when she restored herself¡­ Well, the capital just had to be a glorious tapestry upon which to color the world with the full spectrum of the glory of chaos. After that, Ranthia stopped by her room to retrieve her spending rods. Tatius, Pupius, and she had pooled their finances back after the incident with the Ornithocheirus. The men kept an account at the temples, while they each kept a few rods topped off on their person¡ªor in her case, in her room¡ªfor personal or urgent use. Of course, the rooms for the members of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild might, perversely, be safer than the temple, at least in Sardonia. Adventurers milled around virtually all day and all night, and the guild had made a point of coming down jointly and severely on any thieves that trespassed over the years. She still had to seek out Pupius to get access to her portion of the funds from their savings. Only the men, for whatever reason, had access to the vault. Ranthia¡¯s private wealth was mostly spent at a single store, where she turned it into three large, standing mirrors. Each was made of some special blend of metals, predominantly bronze of course, and was polished to such perfection that even with her dexterity at over a thousand they were difficult to handle without smudging. She had to carry them back¡ªoh so carefully¡ªto her room one at a time. Once she had the mirrors set up, she barred her door and disrobed, then stepped into the middle of the mirrors. She studied herself closely, from all angles. Every strand of her hair; her shimmering, reflective eyes that her class had given her; the curves of her face and the shape of her lips; her teeth, despite her hate for closely examining the creepy looking things (seriously, teeth are so weird if you stop and think about it); the folds of her ears; and even the best she could examine the back of her neck. And, of course, everything below, both often seen and typically unseen. By the end, she had carefully studied parts of herself that she had never directly examined before. Some were lovely and filled her with pride. Others were less flattering, and she developed a bit of a complex about her feet by the time the sun set. Once the sun set, she forced herself to stop her studies of herself. Instead, in the dark, she practiced with her knives until she felt able to sleep. The next morning, she rose before dawn and visited the baths. Then by sunup, after a rushed meal, she was back in her room, naked, and repeating the narcissistic exercise. Except she started incorporating one important difference: she made a conscious effort to build a cohesive, complete mental image of herself. A mental image of her nude body was¡ªfor many reasons¡ªless than ideal for her to use with [Scattered Reflections]. But she figured that was the proper place to start before she worked in clothing, the leather cloak that served as her armor, and, ultimately, her full equipment kit. Shortly before the sky darkened enough to ruin her ability to closely examine her body, she pushed the mental image that she had spent nearly the full day developing into her skill and activated [Scattered Reflections] with her breath held. The mirror image that appeared was imperfect, but it was leagues beyond what she had generated before. This attempt created an image that actually possessed depth and might¡ªwith a quick enough glance¡ªpass for a normal, if naked, person. But there were obvious flaws. She studied the bizarre not-her thing carefully and tried to make note of everything that had gone wrong. She was forced to light a candle to finish, something that promised to get cost prohibitive quickly if she failed to manage her daylight better in the future. Once she was done, she dismissed the image and ate the leftover bread she had bought that morning, along with a little cheese. The cheese tasted so bad she suspected she might have accidentally bought a wax sculpture of cheese, but she still ate it. Then it was knife practice until she was ready to sleep. The next day was similar, though she made sure to make her test mirror image with a bit more daylight left. She continued her efforts until, at last¡ªyet also all too soon¡ªher routine had to deviate for the day. She bathed and dressed in her dinosaur hide cloak and kitted up like a real Adventurer for the first time in¡­ far, far too long. And she met Tatius and Pupius near one of Sardonia¡¯s gates. It was the day they departed for Ariminum. Spring had arrived. Ranthia hugged both men fiercely and swore over and over that she would meet them in Ariminum as soon as she was able. The men were in high spirits because they believed her. They had seen the change in her and they had absolute faith that she would figure out her skill eventually. Surely, the gods were not so cruel as to truly make a skill that rendered someone¡¯s combat class totally impossible to use. ¡°Keep at it, you can do it. Be diligent, but don¡¯t be stupid.¡± Those were Tatius¡¯ final words to her. ¡°And don¡¯t go broke! We left you with a decent bit of money, but you¡¯ve got to earn your own keep too. I¡¯ll be so pissed if you end up in debt and sold as a slave.¡± Those were Pupius¡¯ final words to her. ¡°Don¡¯t finish all the fun jobs in Ariminum before I get there.¡± Were Ranthia¡¯s final words to her guardians, her voice only broke just a tiny bit with emotion even though her tears fell freely. She didn¡¯t even try to rein them in. Not that either man¡¯s eyes were quite dry, but no one pointed that out. The others that saw the men off were all good folk. The Adventurers of Sardonia all were. It was three weeks after Tatius and Pupius left that Ranthia, finally, got a mirror image that she felt somewhat comfortable with. She still left it there and tried to build another, just to be safe. In the end, the first one was superior. That was the one that she finally selected when she worked up the courage to attempt the scariest thing she had ever done. Ranthia channeled¡ªthen forced herself to remain patient while her mana regenerated enough for a second channel¡ªand then it was time. She activated [Reflections of Reality] after she prayed to Xaoc to not get trapped in that void again (some horrors were worth violating her rules to avoid). Ranthia moved, carefully, around the room in the image¡¯s body. She could see. She could hear. She could feel. She could breathe. She thought, maybe, it moved a bit stiffly or unevenly, but it wasn¡¯t a void that imprisoned her soul. It was real progress. Ranthia began to work simple jobs, the bottom ranked ones from the board, every now and then. She gathered mushrooms or herbs in the relatively safe regions of the woods. She ran errands in town. She replaced roofing. Every now and then she took on the occasional minor pest extermination job that felt safe enough, even with just her [Sudden End] class. She also made sure to visit the guild tavern at least every other day for a real meal. She slowly¡ªoh so slowly¡ªlearned some of the tricks behind her mental images. She didn¡¯t actually need to visualize things left unseen. Her personal anatomy beneath her tunic, the contents of her pouch on her belt, none of that mattered. Similarly, to her extensive relief, she didn¡¯t need to know the parts of an eyeball or how they worked; she only needed to know what her eyes looked like to an observer. She didn¡¯t need to know all the bits inside her body or what individual muscles or bones did. Frankly, she doubted anyone on Pallos knew those details. She also didn¡¯t need to visualize anything about her four humors. Her birthday passed, unremarked upon. Every so often a low ranked Adventurer was sent to her as a runner to summon her to the Guildmaster¡¯s office. There, with the two of them alone, the wizened man quietly shared his latest piece of correspondence with her and took precious time out of his day to help her with her reading and writing, using the latest scroll as a teaching tool. She appreciated it, as did her neglected [Fast Learner] skill. Unfortunately, every time the advice in the scrolls was always either inapplicable or largely redundant with what she already knew, but relying on someone else to solve her problem had always been a long shot. Occasionally, Ranthia got tempted to try to meet someone new, for romantic or even just recreational purposes. But she always refused to succumb to the temptation. Her memory of her former lover¡ªwhose name she never did learn, unforgivably¡ªstill stung quite a bit. Eventually, Ranthia grew relatively confident in her ability to craft an image of herself for her mirror images. The problem was they took a significant portion of the day to craft. She had to become far, far faster if she wanted her class to be useful in anything but the most thoroughly staged situation. Worse, she seemed to be unable to use the same image more than once; each mirror image that she created seemed to consume the image that she created in her mind, which meant that every use of her skill required its own image built from scratch. Her ex¡¯s grandfather passed away. Ranthia watched the small funeral from a distance and paid her respects from afar. She didn¡¯t dare approach the distraught young woman to offer her sympathies or comfort, Xaoc knew that her presence would probably just make the poor dear¡¯s day even worse. Ranthia was confident that the young woman would be fine though. Her former lover would inherit her grandfather¡¯s shop and Ranthia knew first-hand how into herbs and stuff the girl was. The season had turned again. She had just pieced together yet another mental image of herself, kitted out in her gear, when she was distracted by a sound she hadn¡¯t heard in far, far too long. [*ding!*] She would never admit to anyone just how long it took her to realize it was a system notification. [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Image Recall]! Would you like to replace a skill?] [Image Recall]: You have painstakingly crafted hundreds of complex mental images for whatever reason. Now store them for later use and perfect recollection. Increased number of images stored for recall with level. -88 Mana Regen Rate. Ranthia stood there, mouth open, torn quite decisively between sheer relief and blind outrage at not getting the skill sooner. It solved everything! She ditched the extremely low level [Polishing] skill she had picked up to maintain her mirrors. They had turned out to need less maintenance than she had feared, so it wasn¡¯t like she was losing anything useful. She barely even felt any discomfort from losing a skill with only 9 levels. The new¡ªhard won¡ªimage skill settled into her, and she spent much of the day making yet another thorough mental image. The entire time impatience gnawed at her, which made it a bit of a challenge to avoid cutting corners, but she knew that the time she spent on the image was crucial. It needed to be perfect. Once the mental image was complete to her satisfaction and standards, she fed it into [Image Recall]. Immediately, some inexplicable feeling conveyed that the skill took in the image. Full of nervous energy, Ranthia sent off a quick prayer to Xaoc, then activated [Image Recall] and [Scattered Reflections]. Intuitively she had the first skill feed its only stored image into the second. Exactly where she wanted it, a mirror image¡ªa perfect one¡ªof her appeared. Great! But it was time for the real test. Her heart hammered in her chest as she designated another spot, near the first, and tried again. A second, identical, mirror image appeared. [*ding!* [Image Recall] has reached level 2!] Ranthia, overcome with emotion and chaotic teenage energy, did the only thing that she could. She gleefully danced a terribly embarrassing little happy dance that she would be forever grateful that no one saw. Ranthia¡¯s tests revealed that she could still control the pose from the same image and manipulate them just as well. The image was only necessary for the physical appearance of the mirror image, not how it functioned. They also, mercifully, worked great for [Reflections of Reality], and at long last the skill worked just as it used to before she took [Distorted Likeness]. Ranthia still spent the next several days experimenting, in an effort to ensure that there were no other quirks. And, more happily, because [Image Recall] seemed to be a skill that was all too eager to level, at least at its lower levels. [Image Recall] had opened a second slot. Ranthia was in a practical mood, so she decided to create a new mental image that would make her life significantly easier while she travelled to and settled into the capital. It was high time that she got some damned actual use out of [Distorted Likeness]. The base was, of course, her own form. But from there she made changes. It was a hand taller than her already impressive height. It was more muscular. Its legs were a bit longer. Its torso was a bit wider and thicker. Its hair was lighter. It was a few years older. Oh, and the most obviously different bit, it was male in shape. Fortunately, and she thanked all the gods for this, she did NOT need to examine a male¡¯s genitalia in detail; the detail was unnecessary for the clothed image that she created. After nearly a full day of effort, the image was stored. Soon after, the mirror image stood in front of her. Ranthia circled it and studied it carefully, quite pleased with herself. He didn¡¯t look like a male version of her¡ªwhich she had been afraid of¡ªnor did he even seem like close family to her. He was just¡­ some guy. Which was exactly what she wanted. Shifting into ¡®his¡¯ image felt¡­ strange. Ranthia was unused to his proportions and felt clumsy, even though she knew for a fact that her skills probably compensated for a lot of what she convinced herself that she felt. She still spent several days practicing with his body to get used to it. Unfortunately, though not entirely surprisingly, his additional muscles didn¡¯t actually seem to improve the strength her stats offered. Nor did she suffer any dysphoria, likely because the body was just an image. ¡­That or she had been male when she was a [Paladin] in her prior life, but she vastly preferred to believe that she had always been a woman. It was just too much a part of who she was. That said, it proved surprisingly challenging to make her voice sound more masculine when she spoke from him. [Distorted Likeness] clearly didn¡¯t extend to changing the voice, which crushed her potential career as a master [Spy] before it ever began. All she could do was practice until she could, with effort, do a more masculine-sounding voice that didn¡¯t sound completely like a teenage girl with bad allergies. Eventually, she felt ready. That morning, Ranthia visited the baths and got herself nice and clean. She cleaned and readied her leather cloak. She purchased a new weather-resistant traveling cloak made out of some sort of comfortable pelt that she didn¡¯t recognize, one that was light and thin enough that she was able to wear it over her leather cloak and could also easily roll it up and store in her usual backpack when she had no need to wear it. Once she was ready, she made her way to the Guildmaster¡¯s office. ¡­Where she was forced to wait while he dealt with other Adventurers who had gotten in before her for whatever business they had with the man. Life sometimes just had no sense for dramatics. At long last, she stood before the man and bowed formally. ¡°C-Ranked Adventurer, Ranthia, here to see what I need to do to become certified as a B-Ranked Adventurer!¡±
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 16]
[Mana: 11330/11330]
[Mana Regen Rate: 6061]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 24]
[Strength: 299]
[Dexterity: 1278]
[Vitality: 772]
[Speed: 736]
[Mana: 1133]
[Mana Regeneration: 1238]
[Magic Power: 1095]
[Magic Control: 828]
[Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (164)]]
[Mirror Spirit: 164]
[Scattered Reflections: 164]
[Echoes Reflected: 39]
[Reflective Motility: 99]
[Persistent Imagery: 57]
[Mirrored Moves: 42]
[Distorted Likeness: 4]
[Reflections of Reality: 26]
[Class 2: [Sudden End ¨C Dark (91)]]
[Dark Affinity: 91]
[Knives & War: 91]
[Blades of Darkness: 91]
[Critical Strike: 63]
[Shadowed Steps: 85]
[Strengthen Blade: 73]
-
-
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Identify: 164]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 40]
[Soups & Stews: 66]
[Dodging: 164]
[Boosted Reflexes: 164]
[Fast Learner: 82]
[Image Recall: 26]
[Sexy: 78]
Book 1 - Chapter 18 - Adventurer III Ranthia¡¯s rank exam was a simple task, she just needed to complete a B-Ranked job solo. Reportedly, roughly a day¡¯s journey from Sardonia a group of goblins had established a camp and harassed the miners and freight haulers that worked in the outer reaches of the mining claim. The best estimates from witness reports suggested that there were six to eight goblins. Ranthia visited an alchemist¡¯s shop, the one that she typically patroned after her relationship with her ex had soured, to buy one special extra tool before she set out from town. A day¡¯s journey wasn¡¯t exactly a brief jaunt, though at least the privacy granted her another opportunity for training. Once she was clear of town, she generated the ¡®male¡¯ image, which she had decided to call Amaus (hey it was high time she found some use for the first bit of her ¡®official¡¯ name that she had abandoned, he could have the Ama-). [Reflective Motility] was still a skill that she struggled with sometimes, so she devoted headspace to having him jog alongside her. It was good practice and, occasionally, she discovered further little tweaks that she needed to make to his movements to keep them realistic¡ªmaking his masculine chest stop reacting to motion like her breasts proved particularly finicky¡ªbut all her practice with complex mental images had made her other skills feel significantly easier to use. It was the difference between something finicky and something that would have given her a headache a year ago. Though it would probably still manage to give her a headache over time if she was splitting her focus to channel at the same time. That night she snared a wild rabbit¡ªproof that she wasn¡¯t going to miss [Crafting Traps & Alarms]¡ªand created a simple perimeter alarm with her camp cooking set after she ate a simple field-cooked rabbit stew. Then she curled up in her new travel cloak under the stars and fell asleep while Amaus ¡®stood watch¡¯. The next morning, Amaus was gone. Ranthia actually wasted more bleary, half-awake moments than she cared to admit searching for him out of sheer drowsy idiocy before she caught herself (honestly, it wasn¡¯t like her images had their own will). After, she took her perimeter alarm down and stowed everything while she ate some scavenged berries and a travel biscuit for breakfast. It was about then that she realized that she¡¯d come closer to death than she¡¯d ever known while fighting the ankylosaurus. If her images disappeared when she slept¡­ She had come so close to falling unconscious when she succumbed to the extreme headache she had developed during that grueling battle! She hadn¡¯t been in her true body; had she actually blacked out or fallen asleep¡­ ¡­She probably wouldn¡¯t have ever woken up, since her true body would have been lost. Ranthia needed a moment before she got moving. She continued her journey, with the recreated Amaus at her side. At long last, close to lunch time, she finally arrived in the right area and a few miners were able to point her¡ªat least after she used [Echoes Reflected] on Amaus and had him ask in a distorted tone that made him sound sick (the miners were eager to hurry them along after that)¡ªin the right direction for the goblins. Ranthia began to channel after they left the miners behind, in hopes of having her mana restored by the time she arrived. Amaus moved considerably worse while she was distracted¡ªyet another thing she needed to practice more, which meant more pointless headaches¡ªbut that probably wouldn¡¯t matter. The goblins had infested a sinkhole at the bottom of a rocky hill. There was a crude implement that wasn¡¯t wholly unrelated to a ladder, crafted out of vines and dried strips of flesh, that was secured to a boulder near the sinkhole. A certain twisted part of Ranthia was tempted to destroy the ladder, shove the boulder into the sinkhole, and see if that was enough to end the threat. Cruelty aspects aside, that plan risked the goblins escaping or having a tunnel somewhere underground that they could also use. It wasn¡¯t like she was equipped to sit there for a week or two to see if they starved to death either. At least there didn¡¯t seem to be any guards stationed and Ranthia hoped that she hadn¡¯t managed to catch the goblins while they weren¡¯t at home. The problem with staging an ambush in their own home was the very real risk that it¡¯d work out poorly for her if they caught her unawares or entered in an unexpected fashion. After a bit of stealthy searching, Ranthia found a little crevice within range that offered her real body a bit of shelter and positioned Amaus nearby as a guard-slash-distraction. Ranthia knelt and tucked herself into the crevice, as out of sight as she could manage, then created a new mirror image of herself closer to the sinkhole and concluded her channel so she could shift into it. Her new mirror slowly crept toward the sinkhole, with [Shadowed Steps] making her approach less obvious. Once she reached the opening, she crouched down and carefully peeked into the sinkhole for a brief moment before she withdrew, wishing that she had gotten there early enough that the sun hadn¡¯t been directly overhead. There was way too high a risk that they¡¯d notice her head blocking their light if she took more than a quick peek! [Identify] seemed to be absolutely refusing to cooperate with quick peeks, but she wasn¡¯t about to repeatedly try until she got caught due to the blasted skill. In the end, they were goblins. The goblins seemed to all be home. They were all sitting around eating meat that Ranthia really didn¡¯t want to think too much about. She had only gotten a glimpse, but she had a sickening feeling that she knew exactly what it had come from. At least her newfound anger helped her feel far more justified in her next actions. With anticipatory glee, she carefully removed the little alchemical concoction she had bought then struck flint against one of her knives to ignite the little strip of oil-soaked cloth that stuck out of the clay vessel. Then, the instant she was certain that it caught, she hurriedly flung the vessel into the sinkhole toward where the larger cluster of goblins had sat. Ever since Ranthia had first seen the alchemical firebombs on display she had been wildly tempted to buy one. She had accepted that she¡¯d never be a spell-slinging battle mage¡ªat least unless she somehow defied Remus standards and ever attained her third class, at which time she¡¯d revisit it¡ªbut the idea of throwing something that unleashed a devastating blast still just¡­ spoke to her. ¡­Very possibly it was just the teenage part of her, but it still spoke to her. Unfortunately, the blast wasn¡¯t devastating. Honestly, it was a pale shadow of what a middling classer could do. Ranthia was especially disappointed that she didn¡¯t even get any kill notifications. But it was still a fiery blast in the middle of their home. Chaos was born amid the goblins. She followed the underwhelming firebomb up with half a dozen mirror images sent one-by-one into the sinkhole at semi-random locations, each set to perform a few different mundane actions. Further chaos. Ranthia studied that chaos and, a heartbeat later, she locked her gaze onto a goblin that seemed to be screaming in a way that¡ªmaybe¡ªwas meant to direct the others. Ranthia launched herself straight at it. She wanted to throw an image next to it, shift, and bury a knife or two in something soft and vital¡­ but the mana costs were kind of prohibitive. She needed more mana than a single mana potion could provide to recover, which meant she needed to indulge in some recklessness. She was only in a false body anyway. They were expendable, so long as she had the mana to get out if things went wrong. Ranthia¡¯s feet collided with the goblin in the most impressive flying kick she had ever even seen. Her weight and force smashed the goblin into the ground. Her knees screamed in protest, but she still followed it up by slashing the goblin with her knives. And now she knew why she¡¯d never seen anything like what she had done. Bones be damned, her legs hurt! But it had worked and her body wasn¡¯t yet spent. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin Warband Leader] (Spore, level 137)!] ¡­Ranthia was, albeit briefly, dangerously distracted by the kill notification. If that had been the leader, then these goblins were all dangerously close to her level! With advanced elements to boot. She sorely regretted that she hadn¡¯t checked before she dove amidst them, it was a blunder that she could only partially blame on how wildly unreliable [Identify] had become. She had cost herself precious information that would have changed her strategy, but she had to roll with it. At least none of the goblins seemed to have taken advantage of her momentary lapse in focus. Ranthia briefly took a moment while she surveyed the goblins to weigh her options. Channeling for [Reflections of Reality] was probably safer¡ªespecially with her legs already injured¡ªbut channeling required so much concentration she almost felt like she couldn¡¯t afford the distraction at the moment. The more images she kept up and running in a believable fashion probably counted for more, at least at the moment. Plan¡ªgrudgingly¡ªset, Ranthia began to move, relying on her images to screen her. Soon she reached a pair of goblins that had previously been, probably romantically¡ªgross¡ªsharing a roasted leg¡­ which proved her earlier suspicion, since it was difficult to miss the foot that was still attached to the dropped limb. The two had found their feet and were scrambling for nearby crude implements that probably served as their weaponry. But Ranthia caught up before they were ready. [Blades of Darkness] could empower more than a single blade at once, and she drove both dark covered blades into the backs of both goblins simultaneously, straight through their hearts. Neither had quite grasped their weapons before they perished. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Chef] (Inferno, level 141)!] [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Sapper] (Gravity, level 129)!] ¡­The [Leader] hadn¡¯t been the highest leveled goblin?! Chefs were important but Ranthia struggled to imagine the chef was the highest level goblin in the group. Oh Xaoc, what if the [Leader] had been new? It made a horrific amount of sense by Reman standards. Some newly appointed fool, given veteran troops¡­ She was getting distracted; she couldn¡¯t afford that¡ªshe¡¯d even decided not to channel to avoid distraction. She threw out four more mirror images¡ªreplacing the three that had been destroyed in the growing melee¡ªwhile she took a brief moment to see what goblins were left. The information hadn¡¯t just been incomplete, it was also fucking outright wrong. There were still nine goblins left in the cave, even after her three kills. One¡ªwhich cut down her mirror images with ease no matter how she tried to have them dodge¡ªwielded a battleaxe that was definitely human-made. And yet [Identify] still refused to give her any information! Ranthia drank a mana potion to try to ensure she stayed close to full mana while she fought. Someday she¡¯d get used to the taste, she hoped. Ranthia moved, sending new images as quickly as [Scattered Reflections] allowed. They were being destroyed with frightful efficiency, but the best she could do was try to avoid the thick of the battle. Which was why her next target was a goblin that had begun to back away from the battle, one that had been burnt by the firebomb that she had thrown. Ranthia¡ªand many of her images¡ªentered into sprints at the same moment¡ªmore or less¡ªand soon she shoved her [Blades of Darkness] empowered knife into its throat. [Boosted Reflexes] never even saw the danger coming. Ranthia stumbled back as an arrow buried itself in her chest. A second followed it, but she managed to deflect that one with her knife. Her breaths were weirdly shallow, the arrow had probably punctured a lung. She wasn¡¯t dead, but she was on a timer. Ranthia abandoned her efforts to keep her images moving and focused entirely on her channel and her personal defenses. One heartbeat. Two. Another arrow, narrowly dodged. Perhaps a glancing blow. Irrelevant. The third heartbeat happened during that. The fourth followed. Another arrow. No space to dodge, instead Ranthia dropped. It still took her in the shoulder during her fifth. Sixth. How the fuck was the goblin archer shooting so fast?! Another arrow was deflected with her knife¡ªnarrowly¡ªbefore her seventh. How long did she need?! Ranthia screamed in her mind, even as she finally hit the ground. Eight. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Priest] (Sound, level 167)!] The goblin she¡¯d cut the throat of finally died, not that she had any mental space to check the notification. Nine. [Reflections of Reality] was ready and Ranthia triggered the skill. Which began another countdown, the several heartbeats [Reflections of Reality]¡¯s effects required. Another arrow sank into her stomach. Ranthia rolled, which allowed the arrows embedded in her to tear through her flesh. And then, suddenly, she was in another image, just in time to watch an arrow pierce through the head of the wounded image she had escaped, shattering it. Ranthia needed a moment, but she couldn¡¯t take one. Instead, she gamely snatched up and consumed another mana potion, though she nearly choked on it when she paid more attention to the last kill notification. The fucking beasts also came in outright higher levels than her too! The situation was kind of fucked, but she wasn¡¯t out yet. Her next several, long moments were spent throwing out scattered groups of mirror images while she choked down yet another mana potion. They hadn¡¯t seemed to notice her currently inhabited body just yet at least. Though her mirror images were being shot down by that same accursed archer with dreadful speed. Well since she was safe for the moment¡ªand lacked the mana to start channeling again¡ªRanthia led the archer on a merry little chase. Images were cheap to make, compared to most other things she could use her mana for. Even [Blades of Darkness] could easily and rapidly consume more mana as it deleted the mostly still wind that surrounded her, which was why she tended to pulse the skill. She let the ugly creature think she was going for an escape, or however the goblins¡¯ savage little minds parsed events. But at last, the goblins were focused on a space far away and Ranthia crept closer with [Shadowed Steps] as quickly as she dared. It was hard not to obsess about the math¡ªthey were starting to destroy her images faster than she could create them¡ªbut she needed to keep their focus drawn. If she ran they¡¯d notice her, no matter how quietly she moved. She needed cover, she needed care. She closed the gap, as the numbers of active images dropped rapidly. And then she was out of fucking time! The goblins were momentarily confused when the last image fell and in that moment Ranthia lunged for the archer. Her [Blades of Darkness] empowered knives pieced its back and side moments before she shoulder-checked it directly between its shoulder blades. They crashed into the ground as Ranthia continually slashed at the still alive goblin, relying desperately on [Blades of Darkness] and [Critical Strike]. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin Slaughter-Bringer] (Gale, level 191)!] By all the gods this was a ridiculously dangerous job! Who knew goblins even became this powerful?! The momentary distraction very nearly cost her everything. She only barely sensed the attack coming through [Boosted Reflexes]. She was horribly positioned. There was no time to dodge, there was no time to try to deflect¡ªall she managed to do was get her arm into the path of death. The axe-wielding goblin sank its weapon deep into her arm. Pain blossomed through her very being, but she tried, desperately, to force it aside while she rushed to throw out more mirror images. The goblin was distracted, which allowed her to narrowly pull away, even as the axe finished cleaving through her arm, then shallowly bit into her chest. Ranthia couldn¡¯t look, but she was in agony even without knowing the scope of her injuries. Her mirror images attacked the axe-wielder ineffectively as she tried to draw its attention away from her. Another channel began¡ªgods and goddesses she only barely had enough mana¡ªas she tried to play dead. Ranthia was in a strange haze of pain as she bled out on the filth-strewn ground. Her arm¡ªwhat was left of it¡ªhurt in a way she had never experienced. Her chest wound felt like it was ablaze. And her head throbbed as she desperately manipulated her images while she channeled. But if she faltered in anything she was dead. Not even an act of Xaoc Himself would save her. The axe-wielding goblin carved through her images with nearly the same speed as the archer had before she had ended it. She couldn¡¯t even count heartbeats; she had to focus so hard through the pain. One of her images stumbled when her focus dimmed enough that it tripped. She was failing! Ranthia pressed her focus further. An image further away began to move better than the rest. The goblins ignored it as they shattered her other images with impunity. Had she been able to focus properly she probably could have replaced images faster than they could destroy them without the archer. But her eyes were watering. She was at her limit. She endured. The channel finished, but she still had to keep her focus. Images stopped appearing¡ªher mana was too spent¡ªbut she refocused her efforts on trying to keep the few images that were left upright. Evasion. Her target was an image she had placed behind two goblins that had their backs to the ¡®wall¡¯ of the cavernous sinkhole. There was some sort of gap behind them and Ranthia was grateful that she had stuffed an image crouched into it back there earlier. Because when she finally shifted, she wasn¡¯t convinced she could have even parsed out how to send out a new image into such a complex position. Immediately Ranthia made several quick thrusts with her knife¡ªfuck, she must have lost her second when she lost her arm¡ªbut fortunately these goblins weren¡¯t too resilient. Both died before either could alert their kin. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Butcher] (Water, level 138)!] [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Biter] (Poison, level 144)!] Ranthia managed to grab both and lower them subtly before either dropped. None of the goblins seemed to have noticed. She had a precious moment. And she had zero intention of using it to dwell upon how viscerally unpleasant a mental image a Poison aspected [Goblin War Biter] painted. Ugh. Ranthia stayed crouched, hidden behind the dead goblins, while she drank her fourth mana potion. She was basically tapped out and she did not regenerate fast enough. She had a chance to breathe but she doubted she could stay hidden for part of the day. What she was wedged into wasn¡¯t a crevice. It was a small tunnel, and she could feel a refreshing cooling breeze through it. It confirmed that they had a second exit, but it also meant that Ranthia had a possible escape route. ¡­If she intended to abandon her knife and crawl, hoping the goblins didn¡¯t murder her ass-first. Okay, no, she was still committed. With her images gone, the sounds of battle had receded. The goblins made strange noises, though Ranthia somehow doubted it was communication. The beasts were powerful, but they didn¡¯t seem to be any smarter than the garden variety goblins she had previously encountered. They had fallen for the same tricks repeatedly, after all. Ranthia drank another mana potion¡ªhey, if they didn¡¯t kill her when she fought the ankylosaurus¡­ She was already probably well into diminishing returns though, even if that never seemed quite as severe as the potion maker had warned her. Her head still throbbed but she was feeling better. The problem was her mana. She couldn¡¯t shift again, not yet. It felt wrong but her best play was to sit tight in their escape tunnel until she heard a goblin approach, or her mana was as restored as it was going to get. The good news¡ªsort of¡ªwas that she was better than halfway through the goblins. She couldn¡¯t relax though; she knew that any one of these monsters were dangerous enough to kill her. Between the firebomb and the mana potions, she was close to what the job paid¡ªnot that it mattered. Only the stupidest of idiots traded their life away to save a few coins. Though she sorely wished she had more mana potions, she was getting dangerously low. Honestly, she had underestimated the job, had she known she would have stuffed her potion case as full as it got. ¡­Had she known she would have refused the job and called the Guildmaster a maniac, but that was beside the point. More pressing was that [Identify] was just outright refusing to work, which was beyond ridiculous! She really, really needed the damned skill to work! The information might make the difference between whether she lived or died, but she was deprived of it. It wasn¡¯t like she could just poke her head out between the dead goblins that served as her cover and stare for however long the accursed skill took to decide to function! She couldn¡¯t risk even a single peek, but she could hear the goblins searching the cavern. It sure didn¡¯t sound like they had let their guard down. It was only a question of how long she could delay until they discovered her. Ranthia drank another mana potion¡ªshe tried to convince herself that her tongue was almost numb to them¡ªwhile she waited. Her mana slowly ticked upward. The goblins neared. And then Ranthia had a thought. ¡­If any of them climbed the ladder while hunting for her they¡¯d probably find her true body. Immediately Ranthia peeked out and started to send out new mirror images, each aggressively rushing the remaining goblins. There were only five left, and thank Xaoc, they were all still in the cavern. The axe goblin rushed her images and engaged them with glee. There was another goblin in hide armor that kept its back to their campfire. Another two were back-to-back¡ª[Mages] that blasted gouts of flame or conjured stone at her images. Then there was another with some sort of crude bone sword that wandered freely and was almost as eager to fight as the axe-wielder. Ranthia harassed the goblins with her images and tried to drive the [Mages] closer to her hiding place. Their magic wasn¡¯t impressive, but she doubted either had a vast surplus of mana. Each image they broke probably cost them significantly more than it cost her. It was a gamble, but it was one that she was willing to take. At last, the Fire-user seemed to run out of juice. Not being a complete idiot, Ranthia threw another mirror image at the fire mage¡¯s side and used [Mirrored Moves] for the first time during the battle. The image lashed out with the appearance of [Blades of Darkness]. And she wasn¡¯t even slightly surprised when the Fire and Earth [Mages] both unleashed powerful, short-range spells and utterly annihilated that mirror image while they stumbled clumsily away from it. Directly into reach. Ranthia shoved past the goblin corpses that had sheltered her and lunged for the mages. She unleashed a [Blades of Darkness] empowered slash across the backs of both goblins, biting deep into their spines. The [Mages] dropped. Ranthia began to channel while she glanced at the other goblins. The bone-blade one was picking up her knife! Ranthia started to move to rush it when she had a chilling realization: She didn¡¯t have eyes on the axe wielder. [Boosted Reflexes] screamed. Ranthia pivoted and barely managed to partially deflect the cleave from the fine steel axe while she stumbled clear. And she lost her grip on the channel, which cost her a couple thousand mana for no benefit. Ranthia just gritted her teeth and tried to focus on the axe wielder. She needed to eliminate it, that goblin was the most dangerous threat left. She wasn¡¯t even sure if she could take it one-on-one. It had to be a [Warrior]¡ªnot that she could check!¡ªand it was good. The problem was her combat style relied on two knives, and she only had one. Worse, she hadn¡¯t gotten kill notifications from either [Mage] yet. It was the wrong time to press the engagement. Ranthia hadn¡¯t been ignoring the axe-wielding goblin, it was the one that she had paid the most attention to throughout the fight. It was clearly their elite. Their brief clash made her fairly certain that it had more strength than she did and it was a skilled fighter¡­ But she was certain that she was faster. Ranthia dodged another slash, then launched herself into an all-out run straight for the goblin with her knife. It was focused on her blade in its filthy hand, with a stupid greedy grin on its inhuman face. Ranthia began to channel while she ran, since she wasn¡¯t so hard-pressed any longer. It never even noticed her until her knife¡ªunempowered¡ªflicked across its throat. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Skirmisher] (Mirror, level 128)!] Had she had the attention to spare, the kill notification would have explained a lot. Instead, Ranthia stumbled back as blood flowed from her own neck and filled her lungs with every failed breath. She had no experience with damage reflectors, but she knew of them. Not that she was focused on that. She was dying. The thought oddly seemed to dissipate her panic. Dying wasn¡¯t dead, and she had a moment to address that. Ranthia snatched her knife from the collapsing goblin as she waited for her channel to complete. How long could she survive not being able to breathe? Long enough, if her stubbornness had anything to say about it. The axe goblin was still rushing after her, but there was a bigger issue. The hide armored goblin had run over to the two goblins and was bent over them and¡­ Ranthia would have screamed a curse if she could have done more than gurgle. The goblin was a fucking [Healer]! She had never even heard of a goblin [Healer], but there it was, magically stitching the flesh of the fallen [Mages]. But her channel completed and Ranthia sent an image behind the [Healer] and started the process to shift. Moments later she positioned behind the [Healer] and began to slash it with her [Blades of Darkness] empowered knives. It wasn¡¯t exactly surprising, but the accursed [Healer] proved to be stubborn about dying. And, of course, the axe-wielding goblin was already closing in¡­! Ranthia committed herself to the onslaught. She knew, in her heart, that if she failed to kill the [Healer] there was no way she could win the fight. The axe goblin required all of her concerted effort to even try to counter it. If the [Healer] survived, she needed to somehow retreat before the goblins managed to kill her.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. She would have to give up on becoming a B-Ranked Adventurer. But she had just spent far, far too long flirting with failure. She had clawed her way out of despair and rebelled against failure itself. She refused to give up again! The axe goblin reached her. Ranthia parried the axe with her knife¡ªno matter how badly the impact jarred her¡ªthen kicked at the goblin as hard as she could. It felt like kicking a rock, but it drove the goblin back for a precious moment. And Ranthia used that moment to drive her other knife through the back of the [Healer]¡¯s skull. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Party Fixer] (Dark, level 174), [Goblin War Party Mender] (Water, level 112)!] She spun and shoved the corpse between her and the axe-wielding goblin with barely a moment to spare. Goblin blood sprayed them both, but the damned axe clove straight through the corpse. So much for her hope to get the weapon stuck. But it wasn¡¯t like there was no merit to the maneuver, the goblin¡¯s axe was out of position for a precious moment. Ranthia lashed out for its chest, with a wide slash enhanced by [Blade of Darkness]. Her blade bit through the armor, but it seemed to deflect off the goblin¡¯s skin! The Dark energy did some damage, but it was effectively superficial. Ranthia was driven back. She stomped one of the downed [Mages] as she passed, but the other was trying to pick itself up. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Mage] (Fire, level 130)!] She was nearly out of mana. There was no way she¡¯d be able to get to her mana potions¡ªassuming she had any left, she¡¯d lost track¡ªwhile she was harried by the axe-wielder. She was on the back foot and things were looking bad. There were only two goblins left though! Ranthia narrowly dodged the axe-wielder¡¯s next attack, but its reach limited her options. Ranthia engaged the goblin briefly, as she struggled to reposition. Each clash rattled her bones, but she finally managed to get around the goblin and, once again, took off at a run. The last [Mage] was upright and she had to end it before she died without ever knowing what had killed her. Ranthia dodged around the first conjured rock that sought her head. She even managed to deflect the second with her knife, which was mildly impressive. The third clipped her side, but the wound didn¡¯t feel too bad. The Earth [Mage] tried for a fourth, but she slashed her left knife down to shove its arm out of the way¡ªamateurish idiot, [Mages] shouldn¡¯t need to point at their targets¡ªbefore her other knife skewered straight through the goblin¡¯s left eye. There was no need to waste the mana on [Blades of Darkness] for that strike. Ranthia continued past the goblin and kicked its dying body at the axe-wielder as she passed it. In the brief moment she had she opened her potion pouch and pulled out the last two mana potions her fingers found. A bit of clay and wax shouldn¡¯t be too bad for her to pass, not with her vitality. Or at least she hoped. Ranthia shoved both bottles into her mouth and bit through the hard clay. The foul flavor of the mana potions blended unappealingly with metallic-dirt flavor of the clay, but she forced herself to choke the mess down. It still cost her time, and the axe goblin reached her again. She only barely managed to dodge clear, though the axe carved a large swath of her leather cloak off. That was a problem, it would be a dead giveaway of which body she inhabited. Even a beast as stupid as a goblin could probably figure out that the only image with the massive hole in its cloak was the real one. Her images got to keep the intact¡ªalbeit heavily patched¡ªprotective leather cloak as it had been, but the large section that had been removed would vanish the instant she shifted into the image. Not that she¡¯d be able to shift again, her mana was still dangerously low. Ranthia swore, loudly, and hurriedly backed away before the axe-wielder could remove her head from her shoulders. The goblin pursued. Once again, she was locked into a series of narrow dodges and partial deflections as she struggled to overcome her opponent¡¯s superior skill and strength. And vitality, apparently. That or a hell of a defensive skill. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Mage] (Earth, level 162)!] In battle, Ranthia tended to suppress notifications to avoid distractions. She had two different presets for the suppression. The first silenced all notifications that weren¡¯t kills (and could be further narrowed). She had underestimated the goblins and had gone with her second preset, which silenced most notifications, except kills and new skills. Had she thought of it, she would have switched to the first when she took her break in the tunnel. After all, distractions were deadly, but sometimes¡ªwhen she could afford it¡ªshe wanted the opportunities to play with new toys on arrival. [*ding!* For reaching level 100, you have unlocked the Class Skill [Cross Strike]!] [Cross Strike]: This skill can be activated when you strike an opponent with a bladed weapon. Created a second impact of pure darkness at a 72-degree angle from the first, at reduced power. The power of this second strike is at 10% of the power of the original blow and the power of the strike increases by 0.01% per level. [*ding!* [Identify] has evolved into [Divine-Touched Identify]!] [Divine-Touched Identify]: You have revealed information about the world with impunity. You have sought to learn that which is never meant to be learnt. Now passively unveil the secrets that the world and its denizens would seek to hide from you. Increased range per level. Increased chance to pierce status veils per level. -928 Mana Regen Rate. Note: This skill is burned into and bound onto you, removal is not recommended. Ranthia¡¯s distraction nearly got her killed, but she threw herself back onto her butt and rolled clear. It cost her the bulk of the leather from her cloak, but she managed to kip back up onto her feet and face the goblin again. There hadn¡¯t been much time to review what she had obtained, but the gist of it was that she had a new attack skill for her [Warrior] class and that [Identify] was, hopefully, ready to work again. Her gaze locked on the last goblin, and at last she learned what she faced. [Warrior ¨C Water], the color was level 203. But beneath that was another tag [Warrior ¨C Metal], with the color of only a level 99. ¡°So, you¡¯re another dual classer¡­ Bet that metal class is what stopped my cut before, but you know what? It¡¯s weaker than my [Warrior] class is now.¡± A brutal, cold smile bloomed on her face. Ranthia charged at the goblin. It charged at her, howling nonsense like the beast that it was. Just before they clashed, she threw a mirror image behind it. The goblin spun to face the new threat¡ªthey really didn¡¯t learn¡ªwhich allowed her to land a [Blades of Darkness] empowered slash to the goblin¡¯s back. The instant that the blow landed, she activated [Cross Strike] for the first time. In the aftermath there were two shallow slashes in, roughly, the shape of an ¡®X¡¯ across the goblin¡¯s back. Its back had briefly turned silvery beneath the thick furred armor that it wore, but the beast took damage. The goblin turned back on her, and Ranthia found herself in a duel that almost reminded her of her match against Pupius back when she first unlocked [Shards of Reflection]. Except, of course, this was intentionally deadly. Ranthia knew that an unlucky¡ªfor her¡ªblow from that axe could potentially end her before she even realized what happened. If she lost her head or took an axe through her brain there was no chance of channeling, even if she actually had enough mana to shift. Meanwhile she was only able to chip away at her opponent, bit by bit, unless she managed to overload and break through its defensive skill. Ranthia sent out mirror images in droves and fought gamely. When the goblin finally started to completely ignore her images (oh if only she could have used [Reflections of Reality] at that point!), she stopped bothering. Again and again, she used her dual weapons and dexterity advantage to strike the goblin as often as she could, using both [Blades of Darkness] and [Cross Strike] any time she was convinced her strike would land. [Dodging] helped her survive the slog of a duel, guided by [Boosted Reflexes], but she still took injuries. Her side was starting to burn too, from the wound that last [Mage] had inflicted. But she wasn¡¯t dead. Not yet. Another notification chimed in her mind, but she immediately switched to the first preset and suppressed everything except kill notifications for dual classed goblins. She couldn¡¯t¡ªwouldn¡¯t¡ªallow even the tiniest lapse of concentration. It was do or die. More blows were traded, and it almost felt like Ranthia was striking the goblin non-stop in a flurry of attacks that was wholly impossible with her current speed stat. She needed more. She dug deep as she fought on. Her mana continued to dwindle. [Blades of Darkness] and [Cross Strike] got no benefit out of [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc], and their combined mana drain outstripped her regeneration. But the stalemate had to end, one way or another. And the gods¡ªor perhaps mere chance¡ªfavored Ranthia. With one particularly vicious [Blades of Darkness] empowered [Cross Strike], the goblin¡¯s silvery skin abruptly returned to its usual, hideous greenish hue. Blood bloomed and gushed from the blow. Six more exchanges later, the goblin made a sloppy cleave that she easily dodged. She took its arm off its shoulder in retaliation. Soon after that, it went down, never to rise again. [*ding!* You have slain a [Goblin War Berserker] (Water, level 204), [Goblin Juggernaut] (Metal, level 106)!] ¡°Fucking jerk¡­ leveled on me.¡± Ranthia wheezed out, as she stumbled back from the body. She had been far too focused to notice during the duel. Ranthia collapsed on the spot. Part of her pain-hazed mind wanted to just freak out. Scream and cry and focus on how close she had come to dying. Those were the first monsters she had ever slain that actually had both of their classes. And she had fought more than one. Monsters that out leveled her! [Shards of Reflection] was supposed to keep her alive, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Ranthia nearly started to dry heave, but she was too exhausted to indulge in her terror. She shoved it to the side and forced herself back to her feet. She was fine. She just needed to stay that way. Gamely Ranthia climbed the gross, unsteady ladder that the goblins had crafted. It was a laborious process in her condition, but she reached the top of the sinkhole. Ranthia¡¯s strength was failing her, but she pressed unsteadily forward. Past Amaus. Then she reached her true body. And there she was forced to wait. The sun was near setting before she shifted back¡ªblessedly¡ªinto her true body. She let go of all of her other images, even Amaus, and collapsed onto her back. She decided that she would see what she got out of that fight after she took some time. Instead, Ranthia devoured every last scrap of food that she had carried and washed it down with every last drop of water. She would, no doubt, hate herself tomorrow, but well, that was a problem for tomorrow her. Right-then her needed the nourishment. After that, she wrapped herself in her travel cloak and passed out on the spot. Sleep was an urgent need with her belly¡¯s immediate demands met; everything else would keep until the morning. Getting somewhere that was actually comfortable would have required far more energy than she had. And her spent mind failed to even consider the risk of sleeping out in the open, right near a goblin den. Sometime in the dark of the night Ranthia awoke. Something had stirred her from her slumber¡­? Noise. Lots of noise that was rapidly closing in on her position. Just before adrenaline managed to wholly chase away the fog of sleep that still hung over her, she heard a rather familiar voice and immediately relaxed. ¡°It should be somewhere near here, keep line of sight!¡± The Guildmaster¡¯s voice called out. With a few disgruntled noises, Ranthia stirred from her¡ªin retrospect, wildly uncomfortable¡ªsleeping position huddled up in a rocky crevice and shuffled out into view. ¡°I¡¯m here, it¡¯s okay.¡± She tried to call out, fouled by a yawn. If they failed to understand her, that was their problem, she groggily decided. She was surrounded in short order. There were eight B-Ranked Adventurers, including Bex. What¡¯s-his-face-with-the-chin, the only A-Ranked Adventurer left in Sardonia. And then the Guildmaster atop a horse, which felt weird for reasons that she couldn¡¯t be bothered to process. The Guildmaster approached her and started saying entirely too many words. Something about a runner and colors and ranks. Ranthia was just far, far too exhausted to follow. Fatigue gave her the necessary gall to cut him off. ¡°The dozen goblins are dead, didn¡¯t collect the ears yet. Figured I could in the morning. Situation solved. Can I go back to sleep now?¡± She pointed generally in the direction of the sinkhole while she spoke. ¡­It was further to the left, but close enough. ¡°Er, yes. Wait did you say¡ª¡± Ranthia had tuned out the world after the yes. She clambered back over to her crevice, curled up like a cat, and promptly¡­ failed to fall back asleep for an obnoxiously long time, in spite of how exhausted she was. Though sleep did, finally, return to her while she struggled to tune out the sounds of entirely too many other people. Apparently, at some point the sun had risen in spite of Ranthia¡¯s wholly unspoken request that it not. She really could have used a bit more time to sleep, to become properly rested. Another few weeks should have done it. Though, to be fair, it wasn¡¯t the sun that woke her. What actually stirred her from her slumber was her traitorous stomach, which was enticed out of hibernation by entirely too appealing aromas from tantalizingly nearby. Ranthia¡ªstill bleary, groggy, and many other redundant words that no doubt all individually applied and multiplied the effects of one another¡ªsat up slowly and forced her eyes open. Just a little. Starting just ten or so paces away there were multiple fires that merrily burned, with an adventurer or two at each. A small cauldron simmered over the nearest and her nose knew exactly what treat was hidden within it. At other campfires adventurers fried strips of pork belly or toasted bread and nuts. They were quiet, respectful enough of those sleeping¡ªthough she only saw herself in a position that even suggested sleep¡ªto not disturb them. Nearby, the Guildmaster had converted a large more-or-less flat rock into a field desk. The man was in the middle of nowhere and he was still fiddling with scrolls. There was a joke to be made there, but it was far, far beyond the limited capacities of Ranthia¡¯s addled mind. Once someone¡ªmaybe Bex¡ªnoticed Ranthia awake, they ladled some of the rabbit stew from the cauldron into a rough metal bowl and brought it to her. She immediately inhaled the stew, without even waiting for it to cool. Whatever questions her slow to wake mind might have been forming could wait. Conversations slowly bloomed with her awake. Ranthia¡¯s bowls of stew were replaced as soon as she emptied them until, six bowls later, she finally found herself slowing down enough that her curiosity demanded indulgence. The nearest Adventurer to her was the A-Ranked guy, feasting on a large plate of fried bacon¡ªand only fried bacon¡ªso Ranthia picked him to speak to. ¡°What are you all doing here?¡± She asked. ¡°Loving life right now. The Guildmaster got a runner from the miners out here, that the goblins they reported had at least one goblin somewhere around level 140. He freaked out over sending you alone to deal with ¡®em. He made an emergency job with A-Ranked pay, took me and some of the better B¡¯s. Can¡¯t believe the man actually came out here himself. We were ready for the fight of our lives. Instead? You solved the problem. We¡¯re all getting paid well to have run hard to get here just to play campout. So, thank you, sincerely.¡± The man chuckled, then pushed a few strips of bacon into her bowl. She crushed them with her spoon and mixed them into her rabbit stew. It wasn¡¯t a half bad flavor combination actually, at least while the pork belly remained crisp. She had never been a fan of soggy bacon, so she decided to focus on polishing off the bowl. A short time later, everyone gathered around the bodies of the twelve goblins that Ranthia had fought. Someone had carried them out of the sinkhole overnight, apparently. The Adventurers eyed them boredly, while the Guildmaster surveyed each closely. He then looked to Ranthia and began to speak. ¡°I won¡¯t ask for your report in front of everyone, but this was hard fought.¡± Several Adventurers looked dubious, since Ranthia had no visible wounds. The bruise she had given her arm while she slept on top of an unnoticed rock wasn¡¯t visible under the travel cloak that she was still wrapped up in. The Guildmaster eyed the disbelievers with disdain. ¡°Ranthia, what was the lowest leveled goblin from among these?¡± Ranthia paused for a moment as she consulted her kill notifications. ¡°Level 129 [Goblin War Sapper]. ¡­Oh, wait, sorry, no it was the level 128 [Goblin War Skirmisher]. Two had dual classes, which I didn¡¯t even know goblins got.¡± Ranthia pointed at the four goblins in question in turn as she addressed them. Mutterings came from the other adventurers. The Guildmaster produced the battleaxe that the nasty goblin had used and held it up for everyone to see. ¡°I recognize this axe. It was owned by an Adventurer that went missing months ago from a different city. He was A-Ranked. It was in the grasp of the goblins.¡± The Guildmaster announced. The muttering and mumbling intensified. ¡°Ranthia has accomplished a great deed here. I will get the specifics from her in private and will later share what I see fit to, but I can already confirm that this job should have been an A-Ranked small group at a minimum, possibly a medium group. Yet she soloed it! ¡°Adventurer Ranthia, on my authority as Guildmaster of the Sardonia Adventurer¡¯s Guild I hereby promote you to Rank B!¡± The Guildmaster got¡­ some glares at that, from some of the B-Ranked Adventurers that Ranthia was friendlier with. Seriously, that wasn¡¯t enough for them?! Bex and some of the others¡­ Ranthia had thought they had accepted her. The betrayal stung. But then the Guildmaster raised his hands defensively, after he set down the axe. ¡°I know, I know. If I could jump her directly to Rank A I would, but that¡¯s just not done, and her level is still too low. No other branch of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild would acknowledge her if I did it. I will be sure that the other Guildmasters know of what she achieved, which should smooth her path forward from here.¡± Ranthia blinked multiple times. They glared because they thought she deserved to¡ªsomehow¡ªskip an entire rank and become what might have been the first sub-200 leveled A-Ranked Adventurer? The concept baffled and flattered her in equal measure, but she personally agreed with the Guildmaster. It was better to do things properly in this case; it was preferable to being challenged constantly by everyone that balked or assumed she got some special privilege. Acceptance was a hard road, and shortcuts never helped it. Bex stepped forward, with a smile and raised her fist. ¡°A great deed has been accomplished!¡± She bellowed. A roar of approval. ¡°We might not be [Bards], but we have our own tradition that can immortalize this deed!¡± Bex continued. ¡­Wait¡­ NO! Ranthia tried to protest, but she was a hair too slow. ¡°Let all our peers know her¡­ The great Slasher of Goblins!¡± Bex concluded. Ranthia just cursed while everyone else cheered for her. That was not a good alias! In the aftermath of the cheering for her new¡ªterrible¡ªalias, the Guildmaster released the other Adventurers after he promised that their payment would be provided as per the job shortly after he returned. He requested some privacy with the newly promoted Adventurer to get her full report, which would require a small delay. Still, the other Adventurers seemed to be in high spirits while they hurriedly broke down the campsite and left, though one of the B-Ranked [Mages] grumbled incessantly about having to walk. Apparently, he had gotten to ride the horse down, before the Guildmaster claimed it, not that anyone felt sorry for him. A while later, Ranthia found herself on the back of the horse, perched awkwardly in front of the Guildmaster while he managed the reins. It was her first time on a horse and riding was¡­ weird. She wasn¡¯t sure that she approved of the sensation and, if she was honest, she would have felt far more comfortable with her feet on the ground. Worse, the horse moved at a slow trot that she could have easily kept pace with, free of the extreme awkwardness that she felt between the bumps of the saddle against her and the not-a-cuddle with the Guildmaster! He was waiting for her to speak, but she distracted herself for several moments while she examined the Guildmaster¡¯s polearm, which was securely attached to the horse¡¯s saddle, where a saddlebag should have gone. The weapon looked like, well, a long metal pole with a crescent-shaped bladed hook at the end. She had never seen a weapon quite like it before, and she was a bit surprised to see a [Ranger] wield such a bulky weapon. Still, she knew that she could only put things off for so long. The Guildmaster had requested a full rundown of the job and, while he was indulgent, his patience wasn¡¯t eternal. With a sigh, Ranthia began. ¡°Found the goblins easy enough, started with a firebomb but it¡­ didn¡¯t do much. Somewhat wounded a single goblin, but none of the others seemed to be hurt. In hindsight, there were at least four goblins that would have been nearly immune to it. ¡°¡­Relied on my class abilities and jumped down there and started picking off isolated goblins in ones and twos. Started with what seemed to be, and was, the leader. But it didn¡¯t disrupt them quite as much as I expected. The axe-wielder was always on me, so I had to keep dodging around the cave. It was the highest level one in there, a level 204 [Goblin War Berserker] with a second class, level 106 [Goblin Juggernaut]. At least those were the levels when it finally died. ¡°Things went okay until I got to the final five. Two [Mages] that stayed back-to-back, a goblin that turned out to be a dual class [Healer], and the axe-wielder. Tricked the [Mages] into blowing their emergency reserves and then struck them down. The [Healer] tried to save them, but I ran it down. Then it was just me and the axe-wielder. ¡°Was worse than fighting Pupius. I only won because my second class leveled up and got a new skill that helped me deal enough damage to finally overpower its defenses. The jerk goblin¡¯s second class had a defensive skill that made my strikes almost completely worthless until I finally broke through. Damned close call though, I was running on fumes on all fronts. I really need to invest in some arcanite when I get a chance.¡± The Guildmaster had remained silent throughout the tale and seemed to let the details she omitted¡ªincluding the Mirror aspected goblin, she just couldn¡¯t explain that fuck up¡ªpass. Several horse-steps later after she had finished, he finally spoke. ¡°I should have never rushed to give you that job. I underestimated them because they were goblins. Please allow me to offer you my sincerest apologies. Even if I still had my bonded companion and had engaged the goblins in the open, I¡¯m not sure if I could have defeated that group safely. I truly am sorry, and I am grateful that you survived.¡± Ranthia felt wildly uncomfortable and had no idea how to even engage with any of that. So, she opted out and instead just muttered something about checking her levels and focused on the notifications that she had suppressed, collected into her preferred class/skill order, rather than the order they leveled up in. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Shards of Reflection] has leveled up from 164 to level 167! Per level: +1 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +2 Speed, +7 Mana, +9 Mana Regeneration, +7 Magic Power, +7 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration and +1 Magic Power from your element.] [*ding!* [Mirror Spirit] and [Scattered Reflections] have leveled from 164 to level 167!] [*ding!* [Reflective Motility] has leveled from 99 to level 133!] [*ding!* [Persistent Imagery] has leveled from 57 to level 101!] [*ding!* [Mirrored Moves] has leveled from 42 to level 50!] [*ding!* [Reflections of Reality] has leveled from 26 to level 44!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Sudden End] has leveled up from 91 to level 104! Per level: +5 Strength, +11 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +7 Speed, +2 Mana Regeneration from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana from your element.] [*ding!* [Dark Affinity], [Knives & War], and [Blades of Darkness] have leveled from 91 to level 104!] [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has leveled from 63 to level 90!] [*ding!* [Strengthen Blade] has leveled from 73 to level 102!] [*ding!* [Cross Strike] has leveled from 1 to level 55!] [*ding!* [Divine-Touched Identify], [Dodging], and [Boosted Reflexes] have leveled from 164 to level 167!] [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has reached level 41!] [*ding!* [Fast Learner] has reached level 83!] [*ding!* [Image Recall] has leveled from 26 to level 37!] [*ding!* Would you like to evolve [Boosted Reflexes] into [Combat Awareness]?] [Combat Awareness]: Instantly become aware of any attack or movement with hostile intent that comes within a fixed range of your body. Provides awareness of where the attack or action is coming from, where and what it will affect, and approximates probable damage. Increased range, accuracy of estimations, and increased probability to circumvent masking skills with level. -1024 Mana Regen Rate. That was a lot to unpack. While [Shards of Reflection]¡¯s level gains were disappointing, the gains to [Reflective Motility] and the notoriously obstinate [Reflections of Reality] thrilled her. [Persistent Imagery] had outright thrived on so many of her mirror images getting smashed by the goblins. Though, good news aside, she was legitimately kind of cheesed off that [Mirrored Moves] gained 8 levels when she only used it once during the entire battle! Oh, if only she had actually used it more, but she¡¯d been too hard pressed while fighting the axe goblin to expend the necessary focus to use the skill! [Sudden End] was the bigger winner, of course. 13 levels were nothing to sneeze at, though the gains felt hard earned. [Critical Strike] had got a nice boost, and she hoped it would start to pay off more; she had been kind of disappointed by the skill ever since it failed so badly against the ankylosaurus. [Strengthen Blade] was oh so close to getting capped, but that just made her feel guilty for how hard she abused her poor knives; she needed to do some real maintenance and care for them later. That [Cross Strike] received so many levels immediately felt absurd, but the skill had come in clutch. ¡­Even if it was a bit of a mana hog, at least from her biased perspective. Grudgingly, she liked [Divine-Touched Identify]. She wondered if the skill becoming a passive somehow explained why its formerly active skill pre-evolved form had gotten so unreliable. ¡­It shouldn¡¯t explain anything, but the skill had always been weird. Still, the new skill promised to be extremely useful, though it was a stern reminder of her prior self¡¯s blasphemy. ¡­Quietly she promised herself that she¡¯d make some offerings to Xaoc. She could never atone for what the [Paladin] had done, but it at least eased her own guilt. She was a bit surprised to see a level gained in her covenant. She had caused a lot of chaos, especially in the opening moments of the battle, but death was about as far removed from chaos as things got. Similarly, she had no idea what the level of [Fast Learner] came from, but she wasn¡¯t complaining. [Image Recall]¡¯s gains felt¡­ both fair and unfair. 11 levels was a lot of levels from one battle, but she also had created more mirror images than she could count, albeit all from the same stored mental image. At length, Ranthia felt ready to focus on the proposed upgrade to [Boosted Reflexes]. [Combat Awareness], gave her a lot of mixed feelings. First, it was expensive. In essence, it doubled down on¡ªand arguably perfected¡ªthe enhanced perception and imminent harm warning aspects of [Boosted Reflexes]. But she also relied heavily on the skill as a check against her read of the flow of battle from [Knives & War]. The fact that the System had asked her if she wanted to upgrade meant that the battlefield awareness¡ªironically¡ªwas absent from the new skill; the System never asked if a skill was a direct upgrade. If she accepted the upgrade would no longer have quite the same level of confidence before she shifted into a mirror image. Though if she looked at it another way, the proposed evolution might just save her butt when she inevitably misread the flow of combat. An attack she hadn¡¯t seen or an enemy skill she had misunderstood could get her killed, but [Combat Awareness] just might change such a fate. If she ¡®saw¡¯ threats before they struck her¡ªand knew exactly how they would strike¡ªand could use [Dodging] or other defenses to try to avoid or minimize the harm, or possibly just jump to another mirror image body. Another major advantage to taking the upgrade would be that it promised to help protect her real body from a sneak attack while she was inside of it. She was getting spoiled with fighting by hiding her real body while she risked only mirror images, but that only helped when she knew ahead of time that she would be entering combat. It was a bit of a tangent, but she also wondered if [Combat Awareness] extended to helping with thwarting thieves after her pouches. The bit about seeing through masking skills made it seem like yes, but on the flip side that wasn¡¯t really combat. ¡­Though she supposed a theft was a hostile action, technically? It was worth considering, since she planned to head to the capital soon. In a similar vein, she was all but certain that the skill wouldn¡¯t point out invisible people that meant her no harm, but she hoped that it might help with Mirage [Mages], given the bit about intent in the description. In the end, she decided to take the upgrade, more or less on impulse. It felt like she had found more pros than cons and, more honestly, she was really curious about what the skill would and wouldn¡¯t do. She wasn¡¯t able to experiment with it if she never took it! ¡°Done. I¡­ really, really wish I had used one of my skills more instead of using it as a trump card that I never got to play in the main battle. A single use of it against the [Mages] got it eight levels!¡± Her thoughts settled, Ranthia returned to grousing about that. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare. We aren¡¯t Remus¡¯ Rangers; Adventurers don¡¯t second guess ourselves. Adventurers should care nothing about efficiency or finding a better way. We trust our honed instincts when we throw ourselves at problems, do our best to overcome them safely, and get paid. You got out of that situation alive, and you should always take that over an opportunity to have gained a few levels that you¡¯ll get in the future anyway. Chasing perfection is a fool¡¯s errand, trust your instincts that work.¡± Ranthia fell silent and just absorbed the Guildmaster¡¯s lecture. The man made a solid point. By the time they returned to town, Ranthia¡¯s thoughts had turned toward her plan to follow Tatius and Pupius to the capital now that she was, finally, a proper B-Ranked Adventurer. She had planned the different supplies she needed and where to get them. There was no way that she¡¯d be able to travel as light as she would like; even just the money she needed to carry added quite a bit of weight, let alone the actual supplies. But her stats were getting to the point that she was confident that she would manage. Of course, she was immediately derailed from her plans when the Guildmaster somewhat forcefully dropped her off at the tavern, where a modest little gathering was being thrown in her honor. And by modest little gathering she meant almost every Adventurer in Sardonia, most already drunk and wild, due to how slowly the horse had walked. Ranthia was impatient to get moving¡ªshe missed the guys¡ªbut she accepted the spirit of her peers and ended up relaxing and enjoying her party. The food was great, though everyone seemed all too eager to ply her with drinks again. Beer was passable, though she doubted she¡¯d ever seek it out proactively. Mead felt like something she would rather sip a small amount of after a big meal on the rare occasions that she actually had an interest in something sweet. Every type of wine she tasted was too something: too sour, too sweet, too strong, etc. Some of the drinks though were outright vile and she would have suspected them to be pranks if not for the Adventurers that drank the beverages down with glee. Alcohol was weird. Maybe someday she¡¯d get more used to it. Drunken Adventurers meant that lines were crossed with impunity. Marriage proposals, whether direct or for a younger relative, were gross. Ranthia was especially repulsed when someone offered the hand of their as-of-yet unborn child that their wife was pregnant with. Sexual propositions bothered Ranthia significantly less, though she didn¡¯t accept any of them, not even from the women. Also, seriously Bex?! Eventually the party released Ranthia, deep into the night, and she crawled into bed with utter relief. Her head pounded from the alcohol and from entirely too much social stimulation. She was beat to the extent that she almost felt worse than she had after she finished her battle against the war goblins. Ranthia gathered supplies after a late start to her day. First, she left her leather cloak with the local armorer so he could reattach some of the chunks that she had salvaged and maybe patch up what she couldn¡¯t. Then once she had purchased everything that she figured she needed (goodbye, sweet coins, hello gross but life-saving mana potions), she dropped it all off in her room and visited the baths and her beautician one last time to say goodbye and get some final care that the road promised to swiftly and mercilessly erase. She also visited the temple, as promised, to make prayers and offerings. She had made rabbit stew, just for the occasion, and gave every bit of it to Xaoc. It was the most significant act of penance that came to mind. She then visited the Guildmaster to pick up her letter of introduction. The man surprised her by giving her a vest, dyed dark green, that was studded with actual stones of arcanite! The Guildmaster claimed that it was a bonus payment provided by the mining companies for dealing with the goblin warband, though she somehow doubted that was the whole story. She still graciously accepted it, of course. Not only was it real arcanite, but the vest fit her well and was small enough that she figured that she could probably wear it under armor. The rest of the day was spent with the Guildmaster while she reviewed the roads and routes she could take¡ªand those she would¡ªand got some final reading and writing lessons for things that the more experienced man suspected may be of value to her as she travelled. She also introduced Amaus to the Guildmaster. The Guildmaster demonstrated not a single whit of surprise¡ªit would have made for great revenge for all the times he had startled her¡ªand instead simply told her that she needed to work on her masculine voice. Apparently, Amaus sounded noticeably too young for his appearance. She also donated her mirrors to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. They were far, far too bulky to take with her. They had been extremely expensive, but, ultimately, she could only hope that someday they might be of value to another Adventurer with a Mirror class. It was a busy but good day, as she said farewell to those that she felt any need to. The next day, bright and early, Ranthia set out with her pack full and her more patchwork than ever leather cloak equipped, confident that she was ready for her journey. She strolled through Sardonia one last time with her head held high. She never even thought of her ex while she made her way out of town, nor did she even notice that the apothecary that the young woman had once lived in was boarded up with the building labeled for sale. Ranthia was wholly focused on her next adventure. Book 1 - Chapter 19 - Minor Interlude - The Guildmaster of the Sardonia Adv. Guild branch - Tomorrow Retirement. It had been his husband that who pushed for it for nearly twenty years. The man¡­ had a point, admittedly. He would have felt terrible had his husband passed without them spending more time together, and age gap aside, both of them knew who would pass first. It was the curse of being a damned effective Adventurer. Over his long career, he had accrued enough vitality that his lifespan was far greater than any other he had known, at least so long as he avoided an untimely death. A small part of him still longed to reunite with his beloved mare¡ªhis long-dead bonded companion animal, and the only woman he had ever truly loved¡ªwithin Samsara, but that was unfair to the man he had pledged his life to. He was nearly two hundred years old when he planted the seeds for his successor. Five promising candidates, each given a slight nudge. Within four years, three were dead. Adventuring wasn¡¯t exactly the safest occupation, even among the elite. In the end, the man that he left Ariminum¡¯s Adventurer¡¯s Guild to¡ªthe main branch that reigned over the rest¡ªwasn¡¯t his first choice. The man had a solid head on his shoulders, but he fancied himself too much of a political mastermind. He was savvy, but men of ambition that sought political favor were dangerous. He was still the best option. And so, the man took over and his predecessor chose an out of the way posting where he could retire and live in quiet solitude. Completely abandoning the Adventurer¡¯s Guild was out of the question; it was too core to his identity. Neither his husband nor their new lover begrudged him his personal comfort. He had never expected to discover a sixth candidate out there, albeit far too late to properly be considered a candidate. He had made his choice, and the man would no doubt shape the Adventurer¡¯s Guild for another eighty years at a minimum. The young woman had certainly been the most interesting Adventurer that he had met in a very long time, and he suspected that she would go far¡­ if she survived long enough. Her impatience worried him, but she was driven in a way that felt all too rare. Admittedly, the kind of person that leapt into a den of goblins¡ªmany of which were higher level than she¡ªjust for the sake of coin tended to have a short career. But if she managed to beat the odds¡­ Well, at least she was more interesting than the men that were her guardians. They became A-Ranked on the merits of their level and little else. Ex-soldiers tended to make decent enough Adventurers, though they rarely held on to their drive or their passion, at least in his experience. The rank and file were still the rank and file, no matter which battlefield you placed them in. He still gave her a nudge, not unlike those he had given her five predecessors. Perhaps if she beat the odds and blazed brightly enough, she could still one day end up guiding the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in the far future. He would never be around to see such a day, but the hope was a bright spot in the twilight of his life. A few days after the fiery spirit departed for the capital, a courier arrived from Ariminum. The two had no doubt passed one another on the road. Most of the scrolls that the courier had carried for him were uninteresting, but two stood out. One bore the seal of the pompous idiot that had declared himself emperor (speaking of the dangers of political ambition¡­). The Guildmaster set it aside and, quite pettily, decided to review the other scroll first. Greetings Guildmaster of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, Sardonia Chapter. An acquaintance of mine shared your correspondence with me to seek my counsel. I must say, your anonymous Adventurer sounds fascinating. If I understand what you left unstated, he possesses a class where all skills branch from a single core skill, and then he received a new skill that created an unworkable prerequisite? I¡¯ve never gotten a first-hand account of a situation quite like this! I would urge you to send him to the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft, here outside Ariminum. I would personally work with him to catalog his skills and discover exactly how his new skill affects them, so we can consider possible solutions. With my resources and expertise, I am optimistic that we can find a solution for him.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. As for advice in the meanwhile, forgive me if this seems obvious, but what one finds impossible to do themselves can often be handled with a new skill. I would recommend practicing the task until such a skill is offered. The System makes all things possible, as my predecessor once said. Though I still believe he would be well served by visiting the School. Sincerely yours, School of Sorcery and Spellcraft Acting Headmaster Maximus. The Guildmaster chuckled to himself and rerolled the scroll before he tossed it into the appropriate bin so that, later, one of his clerks could remove the ink and recycle the scroll. He was relieved that Ranthia had figured out her own problem; he had the displeasure of having met more than a few men like this Maximus over the years. He was adamantly certain that the man cared more about her skills than helping her. And such men tended to be bad for someone¡¯s necessity for secrets. If she hoped to ever reign from a position of power, she needed to be far more careful about who knew how her skills worked. Otherwise, inevitably, Ranthia would be killed by someone whose personal abilities fell short of their ambition. He handled a few minor tasks that he had put off, watered the plant their lover had gifted him to ¡®liven up¡¯ his office (as if any building where Adventurers lurked was somehow lacking in liveliness), and generally did his best to delay the inevitable. But finally, he ran out of excuses and was forced to open and review the scroll with the emperor¡¯s seal. Delightfully, it proved to be far more interesting than he expected. The unsurprising part was that the military man was throwing¡ªhad thrown, given the date inscribed on the scroll¡ªRemus into yet another war already, though at least it didn¡¯t seem to be an invasion of the lands of the dwarves, like he and other Guildmasters had feared. He wasn¡¯t sure what a ¡®shimagu¡¯ was, nor did he believe the rhetoric that was printed in the scroll. Honestly, body-snatching beasts that turned people into puppets? Ridiculous! No, the surprising¡ªand good¡ªpart of the scroll promised to piss Ranthia off to no end, but it was utterly to her benefit. It did mean that the poor woman had wasted quite a bit of time perfecting something she would no longer need, however. He wished he could see her face when she found out, it was certain to be a delight! The days were getting interesting again, it seemed. It was somewhat bittersweet, with how precious little time he likely had left. He would have loved to see how things played out from here. He had always viewed the Republic¡¯s restrictions on women as one of its most grievous mistakes and he truly wished to see what shape this change would bring and how the Adventurer¡¯s Guild evolved because of it. And he wanted to see if the young woman could use the changes to her advantage. Unfortunately, there was a dark side to the news. A new form of war meant the Adventurer¡¯s Guilds needed to coordinate very closely to ensure they remained impossible for the emperor to subjugate. They were independent, but there had always been those that believed classers should be under the government¡¯s sole purview. Visionless men that would eagerly turn Adventurers into nothing more than disposable troops, especially with the new war machinations. Remus had armies that were trained against an unthinking enemy that just used crushing endless tides of bodies. None of those men were trained or competent to deal with enemy classers. The only force that the government kept on hand that had that expertise were the Rangers and their handful of Sentinels. It was far too few for a war, and, somehow, he doubted that the Rangers would happily march off to war, even if the Adventurers would thrive in their absence. There was a real risk that the emperor and the senate would turn their eyes to the Adventurers. At the very least, the Guildmaster was glad that he didn¡¯t have to take charge of the efforts to repel the so-called men in power. The Guildmaster of the Ariminum branch would have that fun. Interesting days or not, Sardonia was a perfect retirement to let him do what he enjoyed, while he left the rest of the mess to the younger generations. There was little else he could do. On a bad day, he could almost feel White Dove watching him, with his beloved mare waiting behind her. On his worst days, he missed his bond terribly, even as he struggled to remind himself that his connections with his husband and their mutual lover were priceless¡­ and were almost as important to him as his bond had been. He hoped White Dove would be content to wait at least a little longer. Besides, he hoped for news about how Ranthia grew. Until he got word back from Ariminum someday, he could only pray that she would outlive him, however unlikely it might be. Still, he believed that it was obvious that she was touched by the divine in some fashion. He, of course, knew better than to pry; those secrets were meant to remain between the touched and their patron deity. But if some deity had marked her then maybe, just maybe, she had a larger role than even he could predict. But he had been alone with his thoughts for long enough. He had the strangest craving for rabbit stew, after expending so much mental focus on the young woman that seemed to have her face in a bowl of it almost every time he saw her around town. Book 1 - Chapter 20 - Minor Interlude - Lacintus - The Darkest of Arts The nightmares had, at long last, stopped. Lacintus had never liked women. They were always stuck up and every last one that he had ever had the displeasure of speaking with was so damned convinced that any man would bend over backwards to do whatever she wanted. As if pleasing a woman meant anything in the hellscape that served as their world. And yet, while he was living his best life¡ªhe had successfully bested Rangers and guards and so-called familial bonds to get there¡ªa young woman showed up. He had blearily been awoken from his sleep by what sounded like doors opening and closing in his seized estate and found himself face-to-face with her. Then she denied his existence. She had somehow known about the fears he¡¯d developed since he had unlocked his Mirage class, namely that he was no longer real. That he himself was just another one of his illusions. He tried to kill her, of course. He wasn¡¯t able to drown anyone anymore, not since he made his first Water [Mage] class Mirage and his second Mist, but the vase had been so heavy he had struggled to even lift it. It should have killed her when he crushed her skull with it. Like a damned [Warrior] she had just gotten right back up and chased him. The man that joined her was cute, but if he was with her¡­ well, cute didn¡¯t spare the lives of those who crossed Lacintus, the Destroyer of Societies. For a time, it looked like his new abilities were going to do exactly what he hoped. He nearly had that cute fool kill that damned woman, yet she survived. And then she proved that she was even better at Mirages than he was! His powers couldn¡¯t see through them at all! And that¡­ that strange, unholy cackling! Sound would have paired with his illusions far better than Mist had, it seemed. No matter what he did, the illusions that she crafted followed him unerringly. It was too much. He failed, and the nightmares had begun. He was so distraught that he only barely had enough sense left to use his illusions to free himself. He watched his illusionary duplicate¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t him, he reminded himself once again¡ªget executed for his crimes. And he was free. No one knew to look for him, but it still took him time to recover. And, just when the nightmares had, at long last, stopped¡­ There she was. His nightmare made flesh. He would never forget her face, and he had no doubt that it was she that traveled the roads, alone. And where someone was alone, they were vulnerable. It was¡­ perfect! He had always scorned the gods, but, clearly, they believed he had earned a boon! Invisibly he followed her, eager to learn her secrets. Because once her secrets lay bare, he had everything that he needed to erase her from the world. The thought brought a smile to his face.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. He watched her bathe in a rocky stream. He watched her make her little camp. He watched her check snares that she had set and cluck her tongue in disappointment at how empty they were. He watched her moodily eat trail rations. And then he watched her create an illusion of a man. Once again, he was unable to peer through the illusion. If only he knew how she made such potent illusions with her Mirage class! It never even dawned on him that her path might have been wholly different from his own. Not until the moment he watched her draw her hated knives¡­ and throw one to the illusion. It was the moment that the illusion caught the knife that his entire worldview was shaken. ¡°Let¡¯s see how well you do at combat without me using you.¡± The woman told the man. What¡­? What was even happening? The man then attacked the woman. She blocked and the unmistakable ring of true metal on metal reached Lacintus¡¯ invisible ears. ¡°Too stiff, no one would ever believe that was a human¡¯s attack.¡± The woman grumbled. She took a deep breath, nodded, and then spoke again. ¡°Just try again.¡± The words of the woman¡¯s rebuke echoed through Lacintus¡¯ head. Whatever that being that she summoned was, it wasn¡¯t human! There were many terrible possibilities. Demons or fae were at the top of the list. Just¡­ what dark arts had this damned woman embraced?! Several clashes later, she smiled. ¡°Much better, Amaus is starting to react and feel far more like a real human! ¡­At least so long as no one tries to pull his clothes off. That wouldn¡¯t end well. ¡­Eh, not too worried about that and I¡¯m not even sure how to begin to address that flaw.¡± Lacintus abandoned his plans entirely. He fled, his heart pounding with terror. His nightmare made flesh was worse than he had ever dared dream! The fucking witch was summoning things never meant for their world! She was teaching them to pass for human! He¡­ he had to warn someone! Someone powerful! Such was his horror that he had forgotten the shape of the world and why he hated it so. The Ranger team he found hadn¡¯t cared about his dire warnings. He had barely even begun to explain the nightmare that the woman brought into their world when he was cut off. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re that [Mage] that was scheduled for execution two stops back. ¡­Not very bright, delivering yourself to us. Ranger Mettlea, you needed to get some more experience for your second class. Ranger Barmos, keep the air clean; Mettlea, carry out the sentence here and now.¡± The tall man that seemed to be in command ordered. ¡°No, you have to listen to me! She¡¯s summoning demons or fae into our world!¡± Lacintus screamed. An unseen power forced him to his knees. Another man stepped forward and placed a hand in front of his face. ¡°She¡¯s a danger to us all!¡± A thin smoke slowly drifted from the man¡¯s hand. ¡°You have to go kill her! Before it¡¯s too late!¡± The smoke filled the air around his head, but he continued to plead. Even as his body began to hurt. ¡°They¡¯re not illusions, she¡¯s not really a Mirage [Mage], she¡¯s worse! She¡¯ll ruin us all! Please, just¡­ kill¡­ the¡­ Advent¡­¡± Lacintus died, convulsing and bleeding, even as he tried to continue to whisper his pleas. If it ended the threat she posed, his life was worth sacrificing. At last, at the very end, he had found a true calling. He had found his place in society. All it took was finding a greater nightmare. ¡°Should we look into it?¡± Ranger Mettlea asked, once his Poison gas was safely dispersed. ¡°Gods no, the man was clearly deranged. Just as you¡¯d expect from a serial killer. Continue onward, we don¡¯t want to fall behind schedule.¡± The team leader replied. The other Rangers nodded their agreement and loaded back into their wagon. That done, he turned back to the two wolves that sat behind him and, in a quiet voice, spoke to them. ¡°Come on MoonMoon, back in front. This is my first rotation as team lead, and I don¡¯t want to look bad.¡± He was still forced to bribe his own bonds into cooperating, once again. Book 1 - Chapter 21 - Ariminum, the Capital of Remus She was on her way. Tatius and Pupius awaited her in¡­ Albu¡­? Amph¡­? Damnit, she knew this one. Either way, they were in the capital. It had taken nearly eight years since the men deserted the legion before they decided that it was safe enough to return. Ranthia also suspected that what they truly wanted was to get her there, to give her more opportunities. Even if she had nearly bungled that permanently, thanks to [Distorted Likeness]. The men had done so much for her, and she looked forward to reuniting with them and catching up. The Guildmaster had warned her that her journey would take roughly a season of travel, but she was confident that she could move much faster than that! Ranthia was finally traveling the roads of Remus, free and unconstrained with no convoy, no schedule, and no traveling companions. It was liberating; it let her explore when she felt the need, stop when she wanted, and just relax while she enjoyed being herself. It also was incredibly, soul-crushingly dull. She had started talking to herself within days, especially when she practiced with her mirror images. That was fine, perfectly normal even; she just wanted to hear something that wasn¡¯t ambient nature noises. As one does. Over a week of travel later, the most interesting thing she had seen was a courier that blew past her in the opposite direction. The man ran with the wind¡ªliterally¡ªat his heels at speeds that Ranthia wasn¡¯t able to match. She knew it was a hyper-specific specialization, but she was still jealous. She traveled, usually at a jog. Sometimes she went into an all-out run. She sometimes¡ªokay, often¡ªwished that she could just throw mirror images out at the edge of her range and shift to them, repeating the cycle as swiftly as she could. If she ignored the obvious channel speed delays and mana issues, she had no doubt that it would have been her fastest mode of conveyance¡­ aside from the minor detail that it¡¯d leave her real body behind. She had absolutely zero desire to find out what would happen if her real body was left outside of the range for [Scattered Reflections]. She had far better things to do than to invent new, creative ways to commit suicide through gross stupidity, especially when she lacked the ability to even try it. She camped when she felt tired or like making a stew. Fortunately, rabbits were relatively commonplace throughout Remus, so her campfire-cooked meals were, more often than not, rabbit stew. It was the little things that made life worth living. When she slept, she made sure she rigged up her camp cooking equipment as a perimeter alarm, no Skill required. Unfortunately, mirror images that she created seemed to refuse to stay active throughout the night while she slept. So, no fake watch to disincentivize things that might mean her harm. Technically this meant that she was vulnerable to anything smart enough to bypass her traps, like say more of those war goblins (probably). Practically, she was mostly confident that [Combat Awareness] would give her warning even while she slept. The skill had proven its value during the incident with the wolves. She had heard wolves howling in the nearby woods, but she ignored them. Her inherited knowledge was absolutely certain that wolves never attacked humans because they were smart enough to recognize the danger humans posed. If not for [Combat Awareness], she would have been caught completely flatfooted when the pack came at her from four directions at once. Wolf stew wasn¡¯t nearly as tasty. As the weeks trickled by, she missed baths most of all. Sex was nice, but baths made you feel like you could tolerate your own existence. Sweat, grime, and dust accumulated and built on itself. Odors had developed, commingled, and bred aggressively. The odd stream or small pond that she cleaned up in helped only a little, and they were often much too far apart. At least she had rabbit stew most evenings. Night had all but fallen when Ranthia finally found a good clearing near the road. Another day¡¯s travel was done. ¡­At least until she noticed the mushroom circle at the edge of the clearing. Slowly and carefully, Ranthia backed away while she looked everywhere except at the mushroom circle. Once she got back to the road, she resumed walking, briskly. But not running. The beautiful moons were out, so it was a lovely night to walk the roads and get as far as she could from the potential presence of the fae. Once she was far enough that she assumed it would be inoffensive, she took out one of her iron camping cookware pieces and cradled it against her chest while she, finally, indulged in the urge to run. Distance. Precious distance. Her plan had been to skip the other towns along the way to get to Ariminum faster. She was eager to see Tatius and Pupius again; it had been roughly half a year since she saw them off and the promised reunion was so close. But she abandoned that plan; after enough weeks on the road her fondness for the men had lost out¡ªcompletely and unequivocally¡ªto her desire to have a real bath and clean her disgusting clothing and armor. Even if she almost got arrested by guards that mistook her for a runaway slave when she strolled up to the gates stinking and filthy. Or, at least, the guards referred to it as ¡®almost¡¯ arresting her after they held her until someone in charge finally noticed her level and the [Mage] tag and allowed her to present her Adventurer¡¯s Guild marker. At least the guard that had been stuck watching her paid for her bath. ¡­Which was more than a little insulting, honestly, but her miserly instincts and her desire to be done with the entire ordeal metaphorically beat her pride senseless and left it twitching in some mental alley, temporarily forgotten. She encountered a group of travelers that had set up camp for the night and were bound for the direction she had just come from. The group welcomed her by their campfire, and she helped them to touch up the vegetable soup that they had started to prepare for the night ([Soups & Stews] had been mortally offended that they had mixed all the vegetables and were going to dump them in at the same time). Their number included a [Bard] that sang for them that night. The first song had been decent enough, even if Ranthia rolled her eyes hard at the notion of the damsel that couldn¡¯t survive without some flighty man beside her. The next song though was one that she knew and loathed. That accursed song about her hometown, Perinthus, and its plague; the song that omitted the [Healer] entirely and barely even mentioned the Rangers that saved them all. Ranthia found she had no patience for the song and called it a night before she ended up inflicting violence on nice people. It wasn¡¯t like the [Bard]¡ªweirdly wrapped in fine bamboo cloth from head to toe¡ªor his stupid harp was to blame for the song. Traveling across Remus alone sucked. Ranthia swore up and down that she would never travel so far alone again. Amaus joined Ranthia on her journey every now and then. It was decent practice to control his image and make it convincingly keep pace with her as she sped up or slowed down. But it was also just¡­ something to think of and keep track of, which made it unappealing for constant use. She still tended to generate him next to her if she thought she heard anyone coming her way or that she was approaching someone¡¯s campsite. A ¡®husband¡¯ made life easier. And she really, really didn¡¯t want to deal with encountering others with a duplicate of herself around. Twins existed, but they seemed to be quite rare in her experience. Low rates of occurrence plus the mortality rate of kids painted a grim picture for their odds. Though she came to regret Amaus¡¯ existence one night when she encountered two women who were trying to break into being traveling merchants, with a few bodyguards. One of the women, still quite attractive even if she was somewhat older than Ranthia preferred, showed clear signs of interest in her. But it seemed like it was ridiculous to introduce your ¡®husband¡¯ to someone then, later that very evening, invite the woman to share a bedroll. What could she even say to excuse it? Would the woman have expected Amaus to join them? How would that even possibly work? It wouldn¡¯t! In the end, Ranthia decided it was better to just deprive herself and live without a¡ªno doubt wonderful¡ªnight of pleasure. To add insult to injury, the campsite was next to a nice, big pond and the merchants had sold her some new delightfully scented oils. Ranthia actually felt clean and attractive, yet she still couldn¡¯t enjoy life¡¯s little pleasures. Ranthia grumbled herself to sleep that night, holding a grudge against the wholly fictional male-ish image that sat nearby, out of sight from anyone else. That way there was no risk of anyone noticing it when he vanished at some point after Ranthia finally fell asleep. It was a dark and cloudy day and Ranthia swore she heard the sounds of an Ornithocheirus¡¯ call on the wind. She opted to move her campsite under the dense canopy and stayed in place for the day. The Guildmaster had been right, unsurprisingly. She had set out right when summer began to peak, and the days were already growing cooler. The leaves had been growing more colorful for several days before Ranthia finally arrived at her destination. With most cities in Remus, even the decently large ones, there were limited signs of civilization until you reached the walls. Farms dotted the surroundings on approach to a city, but there was the rare farm out in the middle of nowhere too (albeit, often abandoned). Still, for most towns it went from wilderness to increasingly frequent farmsteads of varying fortification and quality, to city gates. With the capital, the crowds on the road were the first sign that something was changing. There were scattered farmlands, but as she got nearer there were numerous other buildings¡ªincluding an entire complex of unknowable purpose¡ªbeyond the city¡¯s walls. Then, finally, right as the crowds on the road had come to a complete stop, Ranthia saw the shantytown that had cropped up around and grown out from the outer walls. Ranthia had experience with lines. A few people were sometimes ahead of her if she had ill timing with her approach to a food stand or entering a decent city. She had never even imagined that lines could be scaled up to such an extreme. It was moving, but there were so many people ahead of her¡ªand already queueing up behind her¡ªthat the movement was staggered. She hated it immediately. Not that hatred fixed the problem. While she waited and tried to make sure Amaus didn¡¯t get jostled, Ranthia entertained herself by admiring the walls of the true city. The stonework gleamed white in a way she had never seen before from other towns, and they also completely outclassed every other wall she had ever seen. She wasn¡¯t even sure if every town wall from every prior town she had ever seen stacked together could make as tall and thick and just¡­ so much wall as even just the portion of the wall that she could see from her place in line. The capital was absurd. Even more impressively, the walls were also properly manned. There were guards armed with bows patrolling the walls and manning the towers. Legion armor was intermingled with the more familiar drab armor of the guard too. It was almost imposing, but the strong defensive presence probably reassured the people that lived within the city or in the shantytown. At least that explained why there was so much civilization beyond the walls, though it boded ill for an Adventurer¡¯s options in the region. Still, the Guild here was supposed to be the largest in Remus, so surely there had to be something. One eternity later, Ranthia finally had Amaus¡¯ body step forward when they neared the front of the line. She knew life would be easier if he spoke for them, but she wasn¡¯t confident in her ability to handle the process by shifting between the bodies. She could only hope that [Echoes Reflected] would behave, it could be inconsistent.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Name, purpose of visit?¡± The guard asked in a tone that suggested he had uttered the exact same phrase a few hundred times too many already that day. ¡°Amaus and Ranthia. We¡¯re B-Ranked Adventurers with the.¡± Godsdamnit don¡¯t drop the rest of the words! Bad [Echoes Reflected]! ¡°Guild, moving to the capital.¡± Amaus finally concluded, his masculine voice turning oddly shrill towards the end. Ranthia¡¯s eyebrow twitched slightly as she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. Instead, she retrieved the carved, inscribed wooden block that was her proof that she was a member of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. The guard barely flicked a glance at it. Though his eyes did flick to her knives when her cloak parted to reveal them. ¡°Any contraband or other objects to declare?¡± The guard asked, pointedly. Ranthia blinked at his tone. ¡°All we have is our equipment, our weapons are registered with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild?¡± She replied, confused. The guard seemed to gesture with his eyes to her clearly Legion-issued knives. ¡°Nothing you¡¯re not supposed to have?¡± He prompted. ¡°They¡¯re family heirlooms, you can check the registration with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild.¡± The registration meant that her elaborate¡ªand corrected¡ªbackstory about her knives would never be heard by anyone other than Tatius or Pupius. But it saved her a lot of effort. If the Guild had the knives registered, the legal presumption¡ªas it was explained to her¡ªwas that the knives belonged in her care. It seemed ripe for abuse, but she supposed that was why the Guild self-regulated so aggressively. ¡°Fine, not my problem. You may enter.¡± The guard replied, obviously eager to be done with her. ¡°Actually, could you tell us where to find the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in town first?¡± Ranthia requested. ¡°No.¡± ¡°What? Why not?¡± ¡°Not my job, move along.¡± Ranthia leaned forward and stared pointedly at the guard. ¡°¡­What are you doing?¡± He asked after a moment. ¡°Memorizing your face so that, in the future, if you ever need to hire an Adventurer for any reason, we¡¯ll know to give you the worst price ever.¡± That wasn¡¯t how anything worked, and the guard likely knew as much. But Ranthia felt like being a bit of a pain in the neck in the face of such pointless rudeness. ¡°Fine, cripes. I finally see why my sister always spoke so poorly about your kind. Here¡­¡± The directions were convoluted, but Ranthia successfully memorized them¡ªoh if only names came half as easily¡ªand entered Ariminum at long, long last. The directions led Ranthia through a long, winding path that had many detours that Ranthia was virtually certain were wildly unnecessary even while she walked them, but they did, ultimately, deliver her right in front of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. Her respect for that particular guardsman went up several notches, it was impressively smooth work to give her such awful, roundabout directions on the fly. A good bit of minor chaos! ¡°Eee! This is it¡ªI¡¯m finally going to get to see Tatius and Pupius again!¡± It was hopelessly girlish and would have been mortifying had she not been clad in the anonymity of the city crowds, but Ranthia just couldn¡¯t help but to enthuse to a wholly unresponsive and unimpressed Amaus. She made him smile, but it came far too late. Worse, the smile just looked downright creepy. Ugh. She made a note of that problem with his image and stopped the smile before someone summoned the guards to deal with the obvious psychopath about to go on a killing spree. Ranthia shuddered, her gleeful, bubbly mood ruined. Some sights were cursed. She left Amaus out of the way near the entrance¡ªAriminum was so densely populated that there was nowhere she could safely erase or reform him privately¡ªand made her way to one of the clerks. Fortunately, this time, there was no line, though other clerks (so many clerks) had other people they were dealing with. The perks of a larger guild operation, she supposed. ¡°Yes, how can the Adventurer¡¯s Guild help you, miss?¡± He asked, bored through a thin veneer of politeness. ¡°B-Ranked Adventurer, Ranthia, transferring from Sardonia. I have my guild symbol and a letter of introduction for your Guildmaster here.¡± She produced the two items and set them down. She expected that the man would most likely just set aside the scroll for now and it would end up on the Guildmaster¡¯s desk sooner or later. She had carefully pried up the wax and read the scroll out of bored curiosity during her journey, but the letter was so enthusiastically complimentary that Ranthia still felt weird and embarrassed about it. She had been so flustered at the time that she nearly botched reheating the wax to reseal it, but fortunately she managed to salvage the Guildmaster¡¯s personal seal. The man nodded and started to process things when he abruptly paused in his tracks. He mouthed something to himself, then grabbed another scroll from elsewhere beneath his counter and checked its contents. ¡°You, go get the Guildmaster!¡± The clerk yelled to another man nearby, who nodded and left. Ranthia blinked, suddenly nervous. She hadn¡¯t even done anything! ¡­In Ariminum, at least! In surprisingly short order, Ranthia found herself herded into the local Guildmaster¡¯s office. The man was a [Mage] for his primary class, at a surprisingly high level, though not quite at the level of her prior Guildmaster. The man was reading the letter of introduction that she had brought, which she had completely missed someone grabbing, and she swore she saw his eyebrow almost imperceptibly arch upward more than once. Two other nervous clerks were in the room, though they stood back near the door. ¡°Hm, yes. Welcome to Ariminum. I¡¯m certain you will be a wonderful addition to the Adventurers under our banner here, for as long as you stay.¡± The Guildmaster began, though he seemed to pause after that for several long moments before he resumed speaking. ¡°Unfortunately, I do have to be the bearer of some bad news. The two who were sent ahead of you, whom I understand were relations of yours, died during a mission two months ago.¡± What? ¡°What happened?¡± Her mouth asked, disconnected from her mind. Her mind was absolutely not working at all. She felt like someone controlled her body with [Reflective Motility], not that the skill handled speaking (nor was [Echoes Reflected] so reliable, clearly). But her mind just felt like it had broken and scattered into nothingness, so it couldn¡¯t possibly have driven her entirely reasonable question. ¡°We had a big mission come in, a dangerous creature that had attacked a major business a few days¡¯ journey beyond Ariminum. It was roughly level 600, as I recall. It was an A-Ranked mission, and I sent a dozen of our best at the problem. A few returned, but the survivors were able to confirm that the others perished. Unfortunately, those two were among those that perished. In addition, nothing could be recovered of them. You have my sincerest condolences.¡± The man was entirely too calm and professional. ¡°Where is the monster that did this?¡± Now that question Ranthia could get behind. She would avenge Tatius and Pupius¡ªgods, they couldn¡¯t really be gone, could they?¡ªif it was the last thing she did. ¡°Ah, when we were unsuccessful in our attempt to subdue the creature, I informed the business owners, and they petitioned the government. One of the Sentinels, Hunting, dealt with the creature. It¡¯s dead now, don¡¯t worry.¡± Ranthia¡¯s heart was crushed. Even vengeance was denied to her. Sure, it was good that such a dangerous beast had been put down, but its demise wouldn¡¯t bring them back. Not even Xaoc could bring them back. The Guildmaster asked one of the clerks something, but Ranthia ignored them as she followed the jagged trails of her own fragile thoughts. After a time, two crates were set down on the desk in front of Ranthia. These were, apparently, the belongings that Tatius and Pupius had left in their rooms, claimed by the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. The duo had left instructions that if anything ever happened to them, their belongings were to be hers. The crates were meant to be shipped to Sardonia but they hadn¡¯t been picked up quite yet. Somehow this was lucky? Ranthia was fairly certain that word had no place in any of this. The Guildmaster locked his desk and left the room with the clerks, after he told her to take whatever time she needed. Ranthia¡¯s hands shook as she clumsily opened the crates. They¡¯d been nailed shut but, impulsively, she threw every free stat point she had into her strength and pried them open with her fingertips. Her knives could have pried them open more easily, but the thought never quite reached her. Within each crate rested the little personal items that represented the remnants of each man. The dinosaur bone necklace that Tatius received when the man foolishly lost his temper and told the armorer to just make the best thing that he could out of the ankylosaurus¡¯ backplate when he was told a tower shield would be impossible. A stupid-looking, badly made little doll that had some of Ranthia¡¯s old hair trimmings for hair; probably a gift Pupius had made for her when she was little that he decided to never give her. A few small trophies from past victories. Keys for their temple vaults with [Signed] letters granting Ranthia access to their contents. A few rods of coins and a few gemstones. A few small weapons or old scraps of armor that they had never bothered to sell. Pupius¡¯ lucky tooth: a loose tooth that he had gotten knocked out when he picked a fight with a gang of thugs that had made fun of the 9-year-old Ranthia when she called herself an Adventurer. Ranthia wept while she handled each of the items and remembered their owners. Men who had meant the world to her. Men who had given her a chance that few on Pallos would have ever considered. In some ways, it was the items that were missing that hit her the hardest. Tatius¡¯ spear¡ªstill attached to that stunningly resilient broom handle that they had all initially scorned. Pupius¡¯ short swords were never the blades of his dreams, but he always secretly whispered his gratitude to the blades after every battle while he maintained them if he thought she and Tatius were out of earshot. They, like the men, were gone. Forever. She had no idea how long she stayed in the Guildmaster¡¯s office while she just struggled to experience her turbulent emotions. At times she was so hurt it felt like her body should stop working. Other times it was just a deep sadness that tears failed to capture. Sometimes she was just angry, aimlessly and terribly furious. It wasn¡¯t fair. None of it was fair! She was supposed to reunite with them! They were supposed to tease her about taking so long! She needed to hear Pupius¡¯ reaction to her stupid Slasher of Goblins alias! Tatius was supposed to comfort her by bringing up his own largely self-inflicted title! She had planned out so many little interactions with them while she was on the road. But they had been gone nearly the entire fucking time! While she camped and traipsed around like a na?ve fool, the men fought their final battle and died. Alone, surrounded by virtual strangers. If only she had been faster. If she had true speed, she could have made it in time. Had she never taken [Distorted Likeness] she would have been at their side. If she hadn¡¯t wasted so much time feeling sorry for her worthless self. If she hadn¡¯t wasted time on that vapid child that she had somehow believed that she loved. If only she had been better. If she had been half the woman that she was so damned convinced that she was¡­ Time passed as Ranthia grappled with her thoughts and feelings. She was battered and expended in ways that were, probably, worse than her most desperate battles. But, at long last, she put away everything except the vault keys and [Signed] letters. Someone with the guild waited outside the door, a polite distance away. The man even pulled off a very convincing act that he hadn¡¯t heard her wailing for the bulk of the day, nor that he noticed anything amiss about her anguished, tear-stained face. With the last dregs of her willpower, Ranthia got permission to leave the crates safe with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild for a few days, until she got her own vault sorted out at the main temple. She needed, desperately, to store the mementos where they would be safe. After that she got directions to the nearest cheap place to sleep, with vague ambitions of finding a better place to stay once she rested. That done, she thanked the polite, professional clerk¡ªalmost as an afterthought¡ªthen made her way out of the Guildhall. Amaus still waited where she left him. ¡­And damnit, at some point he had stopped blinking or making the motions that suggested breathing; hopefully no one noticed. Not that she had the energy to deal with it if anyone had. She just reapplied those actions, then had him follow her as she left. She really, really wanted a hug. But she knew better than to hug her own mirror images. It felt weird and risked breaking them, in exchange for no real comfort. It wasn¡¯t worth it. Though she desperately wished that it was. Ranthia wanted to just go to that cheap inn and pass out, but she knew that getting access to their vaults would wreck her all over again. So, instead, Ranthia glared up at the still high enough sun and made her way deeper into Ariminum. The temple district was easy to see, at least. She¡¯d have been impressed with the architecture had she been able to feel much of anything. At the temple, Ranthia once again was forced to rely on [Echoes Reflected] as she and, mostly, Amaus went through the process of getting a vault. No, neither of them were currently citizens. Yes, they needed a new personal vault. No, they didn¡¯t have a vault in another city. The process had been tedious and annoying, until another question caught Ranthia completely off-guard. ¡°And which of you is the head of the household?¡± ¡°¡­Wait, what? It would be okay for me to be the head?¡± She asked, with her own body. ¡°Naturally. Emperor Augustus has granted women equal opportunity to become citizens or lead households, with all other rights and responsibilities so associated.¡± The temple clerk replied. ¡°¡­So, I could get a vault myself, even without him?¡± She pointed at Amaus. ¡°Naturally.¡± ¡°¡­Fuck. Can I start over?¡± Ranthia asked as she wearily dismissed Amaus from existence. After an entirely too long conversation with both the city guard and members of a Ranger team that apparently never left Ariminum, Ranthia found herself let off with a stern warning to never impersonate another person again. The fact that Amaus had never actually been a person was the only thing that prevented her from staying in prison, apparently, though some of the guards still wanted to charge her with attempted fraud. With that unpleasantness done, Ranthia returned to the temple and met with a different temple clerk and finally got her vault at the temple. The clerk even arranged to have someone retrieve her crates from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, which saved her from having to figure out the logistics. It was completely worth the small fee. Ranthia was exhausted, but she still had one more thing to take care of. ¡°I¡¯ll also need to get access to these two vaults, here are the keys and¡­¡± Ranthia just wearily stared at the formerly oh-so-nice clerk as he waved the guards over. ¡°A known fraud risk is attempting to gain access to other vaults!¡± The man shouted once the guards neared. For some strange reason, it seemed that she had become untrustworthy in the eyes of the temple¡¯s vault personnel. Getting arrested twice in one day in a holy temple was almost too much of an insult to bear. At least a runner from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild straightened out the mess far faster than her first stint behind bars. Tatius and Pupius had left her a surprising sum of rods. Considering it had barely been half a year, the duo had clearly done very well for themselves as Adventurers. Tatius even had a pouch partially full of knuckle-sized arcanite gems in his vault. She had the contents of both vaults moved into her own, then returned their keys to the temple. It was only on her way out of the temple that Ranthia realized that much of the funds had probably been hazard pay for their final disastrous job that claimed their lives. The coin became even more bitter after that. Essential tasks done, Ranthia found the tavern and decided that it wasn¡¯t too disgusting for a night. She rented her room, scrubbed her body with a bucket of murky water, prayed to Xaoc on behalf of the long-dead men, ate some of her trail rations, and then called it a night. She was torn between feeling emotionally raw and emotionally numb, and she was completely wrung out. Welcome to Ariminum. Grave of the only people you ever dared to care about. Home to guards that will eagerly arrest you, even multiple times in a single day. Packed with entirely too many people. Also, the prices for everything sucked. Book 1 - Chapter 22 - Old Faces, New Encounters Ranthia slept in. Then when she woke up, she just felt too sad to get up and cried herself back to sleep. She needed more time. After two¡­ish days of that, Ranthia finally left the tavern. They had food, but her vitality was high enough that her nose wanted no part of it. Instead, she found a street stall that sold the most delightfully seasoned sausages and bought her fill there. Part of her was tempted to throw herself into Adventuring and do her best to not have freedom to think. The rest of her was mature and experienced enough to know she needed some downtime. She needed to relax. She needed to process. Fortunately, wisdom won out and she decided to find a beautician that she liked in her new city before she did anything else. Otherwise, there was a real danger of her doing something stupid. She was dressed for the day in a men¡¯s tunic worn over her arcanite vest, her belt with her knives and pouches, and her less worn-out pair of sandals. Both the leather cloak and her travel cloak were stuffed into her bag, and, after a bit of effort, she even managed to close it. That done, she just needed to find a decent stylist! ¡°Nope.¡± Ranthia muttered as she quickly backed out of the little shop. The man had an emotional intensity and eagerness to him that was profoundly off-putting. It almost came off like the bald man just couldn¡¯t wait to lay his hands on her. She had no interest in finding out if she misread him and instead vowed to find someplace run by women. Apparently, somehow, Ranthia had stumbled upon a private salon¡ªone that exclusively served the workers in the brothel that was nearby. Somehow, by reasoning that Ranthia couldn¡¯t parse and was far more than a little offended by, the bouncers for the nearby brothel took her mistaken entry as an attempt to muscle in on their territory? Knives were drawn (they made the first aggressive move!) and shortly thereafter Ranthia found herself at the nearest guard station, with several stacks of the traditional guard buff emptying her mana. There she was interviewed and glared at for entirely too long, until yet another runner from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild finally got them to drop the accusation. Ranthia felt sort of bad for causing so many problems for the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in the capital, but her complex about guards had intensified significantly. Hopelessly jaded by the salons in the area of the city she would likely live in (if she stayed, and an increasingly large part of her was oh-so-tempted to return to Sardonia), Ranthia decided to move to a higher-end district. Not the highest end district, of course; with her luck she¡¯d probably be arrested just for trying to walk around somewhere where the wealthy strolled about. At best. If it was the private security for the rich and wealthy that took umbrage to her existence, they¡¯d probably just try to kill her, and then she¡¯d be forced to defend herself. And gods, she could just imagine getting into a pointless battle with some overzealous personal bodyguard over his presumptions, then arrested by the guard for fighting him¡ªand, somehow, she doubted the Adventurer¡¯s Guild would involve themselves if some rich bastard wanted her dead. So nope, no checking out the nicest part of town for her; not then, not ever. The area she found herself in was actually kind of nice, in that oh gods and goddesses she didn¡¯t belong there sort of way. The stalls that lined the streets were orderly and more subdued than the ones from the more common areas of town. The products on display were varied, a mix of practical, tasty, and utter vanity. And there were actual stores present too, permanent buildings that specialized in certain products or services. Clothing, oils and cosmetics, a [Healer] that had some strange sunlight theme painted across their shop, and more. And what sort of city could support an entire dedicated physical building for a store that only sells cheese? Ranthia marveled while she played tourist and explored. Her dejected misery and anger dissipated ever so slightly. Ever so temporarily. After a bit of walking around, she found her next salon to try. She entered nervously and an attractive woman smiled at her immediately. This time, Ranthia decided to ask some questions before she tried to ask if she could get a session. Allegedly, this shop was run by women, which was a huge plus. A rod plus cosmetics fees felt ridiculously steep and nearly chased Ranthia away on the spot, but she hesitated. Maybe their quality would be worth it? Ranthia did have a small fortune on hand¡ªnot that she wanted to think about it¡ªso she thought that maybe a little splurging wouldn¡¯t hurt. Just the once. Ranthia went for it before she could talk herself out of it. ¡°Okay! Just one last question, do you have one or more appearance skills? If so, which ones? Anything like [Beautiful], [Alluring], or [Resplendent]?¡± The woman behind the counter asked. ¡°Oh, uh, I have [Sexy].¡± Ranthia replied, surprised. She had never thought appearance skills mattered for a stylist¡¯s treatments. Maybe that was the difference between services that cost over a rod in the capital and services elsewhere that had cost a small handful of coins and had few to no alternatives. ¡°Excellent! Our [Sexy] expert is available and will be with you in a moment.¡± Ranthia waited, indeed, only a moment or two, before a, well, sexy woman in her early to mid-twenties came out. Her long light brown hair was curled and tousled in a way that was just right. Her healthy, creamy skin had the lightest dusting of freckles in a way that just worked on her. And her vivid green eyes shined in the light with a familiar mirror-y effect. Ranthia felt immediately attracted to the woman and struggled to keep her thoughts straight. ¡°Hi, you¡¯re [Sexy], right?¡± Gods and goddesses, even the woman¡¯s voice made it harder to concentrate. ¡°Mhm, and so are you.¡± Ranthia smoothly replied, without even slightly meaning to. Ranthia blushed when she finally realized what came out of her mouth. The woman just laughed musically and led her back. ¡°I¡¯m flattered that you noticed. My name¡¯s Hexara and I¡¯ll be taking care of you. Do you have a favored line of cosmetics?¡± ¡°Um, I¡¯ve always used¡­¡± Ranthia had to force her brain to think heavily to remember what was on the stuff that she had left in Sardonia to cut weight. ¡°Oh, we don¡¯t have that company¡¯s products. This salon exclusively uses cosmetics without lead in them. Lead¡¯s poisonous, you know. We were told by Sentinel Dawn herself.¡± The woman announced proudly. Lead being poisonous sounded like something someone would make up to push a more expensive product, but if the salon was willing to namedrop a freaking Sentinel as the source¡ªin the capital no less¡ªmaybe it was true? Either way, she didn¡¯t mind too much. It wasn¡¯t like she had any real attachment to the cosmetics that had literally been her only choice in Sardonia. ¡°Uh, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll try whatever you suggest and see what I think?¡± Ranthia decided. ¡°Sounds great! So, is this for any sort of special situation? Hot date? Big event?¡± The woman probed. ¡°No, no. I¡¯m an Adventurer and just moved to Arminium,¡± which was decidedly not the name of the capital, ¡°and I wanted to see a beautician so I can feel better about myself after a long journey. And y¡¯know, make [Sexy] happy.¡± ¡°Oooh, a [Sexy] Adventurer! I can almost hear the [Bard] songs already!¡± The woman replied and playfully fanned herself with her hand while she helped Ranthia sit down. Ranthia¡¯s face reddened over being openly flattered. She was certain the woman was only flirting to be friendly and help coerce her into spending more coin, but¡­ yeah, it was working. ¡°So, being a badass Adventurer, does that mean I can¡¯t convince you to grow out your hair? Such a dark, rich shade would look oh-so-great long¡­¡± The woman¡¯s fingers slid through Ranthia¡¯s short hair while she spoke. ¡°Uh,¡± a nervous giggle slipped out, ¡°I would rather keep a short style.¡± ¡°For cosmetics I was thinking about¡­¡± The woman successfully and effortlessly upsold Ranthia on cosmetics. ¡°Well, what do you think? Did I make you look even more [Sexy] or what?¡± The woman asked, as leaned in over Ranthia and subtly turned the mirror that she had conjured in her hand to give the teenager a better look at herself. And in the process gently pressed her cleavage into the back of Ranthia¡¯s neck, which made it even harder to think. She had to admit though, the woman was a genius. She looked amazing! It really put the work of the beautician she had liked so much in Sardonia to shame. Her short hair was immaculately styled, with a parting on the left and a bit more length¡ªa bit more than she had wanted, but she was sold on it¡ªfor the right, with a subtle wave to her hair. The makeup truly accentuated what was already there, rather than trying to make her look like someone else. It was entirely self-indulgent to admit, but she would totally be lusting after herself if she saw herself somewhere. ¡°I love it.¡± Ranthia said and meant it. ¡°Mmm, yes, you might just be my masterpiece. I would love to see what I could do with you on a formal occasion. Okay, let¡¯s check our levels together, okay? On the count of four¡­¡± At the conclusion of the count-down, both women got distant looks in their eyes as they simultaneously checked their silenced notifications. [*ding!* [Sexy] has leveled from 79 to level 83!] ¡°Okay, it¡¯s official, I think my [Sexy] is in lust with you. Four levels!¡± Ranthia gasped. ¡°Oh wow, that¡¯s a new record for me. Even better, I leveled too!¡± The woman hugged her and Ranthia¡¯s mind flicked off for a few moments. ¡°You will come back to me someday, right? I couldn¡¯t bear it if this was a one-off!¡± The woman asked. ¡°Oh, uh, yes¡­ Yes, of course!¡± Ranthia¡¯s mind was still a bit slow. ¡°Great! I¡¯ll hold you to that, m¡¯lady¡­ Oh my! I have been so terribly naughty; I never even got your name!¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Ranthia had wholly failed to catch the woman¡¯s name too and saw an opportunity to fix that, ¡°I¡¯m Ranthia. Just Ranthia.¡± ¡°¡­Wait, Ranthia? No¡­ ¡­Is that really you?¡± The woman¡¯s face changed suddenly. Her shell-shocked expression sparked recognition that had never quite managed to percolate in the back of Ranthia¡¯s mind. ¡°From Perinthus¡­¡± Ranthia breathed, her throat suddenly dry. One of the many, many things she had wanted to run from was thinking about the fact that the others that left Perinthus with her had been bound towards the capital. Where she was now. Her mother and the rest¡­ The woman shrieked in delight. ¡­which included a teenager with a really dumb name that she had saved the life of, in a memory that still haunted her in an almost warm and fuzzy kind of way. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Fortunately, the other staff at the salon chose NOT to summon the guards before they poked their heads in to make sure everything was okay. Of course, instead it seemed like all of them rushed over to poke their heads in, one by one, even after they were told everything was fine. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I just realized I knew her from my past!¡± Hexara explained, for the third time. The latest small group of women closed the door and left, satisfied. ¡°And that should be the last group, sorry about that.¡± Hexara added. ¡°By Xaoc, I still can¡¯t believe I ran into you. I mean, I know you¡¯d said you wanted to be a beautician, but of all the shops in the capital¡­¡± Ranthia mumbled. Hilariously, she distinctly remembered thinking that the then-teenager wasn¡¯t her type. Now that she had grown into a woman she pushed all of Ranthia¡¯s buttons. Smugly, Ranthia took it as proof that her tastes had changed in her second life. She preferred older women now, not younger! There were numerous other potential explanations, but she chose that one. Ranthia had stood up hurriedly back when the first group of the other women barged in, armed with scissors and other implements. Now that her coworkers¡¯ concerns were addressed and their privacy was restored, Hexara stepped in front of Ranthia and hugged her again, holding her tightly. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re okay! That horrendous toad of a woman kept gloating about how you would die without her and¡­ Oh, I just never was so tempted to do violence as I was back then! But here you are, all grown up and just¡­ amazing!¡± Hexara gushed and stared into Ranthia¡¯s eyes. Her own eyes were misty, but they were just as reflective and sparkly as Ranthia¡¯s own. Over-emotional, over-hormonal, and under-thinking, Ranthia did the only thing that seemed to be an appropriate response. She kissed the woman. Hexara returned the kiss. After an indeterminate number of escalations later, Hexara suddenly pulled back. ¡°Oh, shit!¡± ¡°¡­What¡¯s wrong?¡± Ranthia asked while her heart quivered. ¡°I¡¯ve completely ruined the makeup I had applied! ¡­For both of us!¡± Ranthia started to laugh, between the relief that she felt and the absurdity of the situation. Hexara joined her a moment later. Later, Ranthia paid the front desk a small fortune. Her makeup had been reapplied and she had exchanged a promise to meet Hexara at her home in three days¡¯ time, when the woman had the day off. The cosmetics and brushes¡ªthe ones that Hexara had successfully seduced Ranthia into purchasing before they realized one another¡¯s identities¡ªwere safely stowed in her pouch. She looked better, felt better, and had a new skip in her step as she left. Now she had a perfect excuse to do some shopping in the area! Ranthia stared at the garment while she stood in front of the huge conjured mirror. The entire shop was massive and dedicated solely to women¡¯s fashion, but the garment¡­ Ranthia just had no words to describe the cut or style of the garment. It was like nothing she had ever seen. And she loved it. The cut of it showed more cleavage than she had thought a woman legally could without a licensed brothel nearby. It matched her skin tone and hair beautifully. It was impossibly perfect. It was also impossibly expensive. Ranthia desperately wished she could try the garment on, but the [Seamstress] and [Tailor] that collectively owned and ran the shop took one look at her and refused in perfect unison. She might have been prettied up and feeling [Sexy]-er than ever (¡­was there an evolution to the skill called [Sexier]?), but she was obviously still clad in a cheap men¡¯s tunic and equipped like an Adventurer. Instead, Ranthia glumly studied the garment closely and envisioned how it would look on her, aided by all of her mental image training. It just looked so good! She was certain [Sexy] would level again if she could try the garment on. Her heart threatened to break when she returned the garment. She reminded herself she could buy a full set of custom-fitted leather armor for that price. A traitorous part of her mind whispered that she could spare that many rods. She left before she did something she would almost definitely regret. Ranthia did stop by a [Cobbler]¡¯s stall near that dangerously tempting store and bought a couple of pairs of incredibly comfortable and seemingly¡ªhopefully¡ªsturdy sandals. She wore one of the sets immediately, much to the relief of her feet. Surprisingly, the cobbler was willing to buy her old pair, even if it was only for two coins. Apparently he could turn the worn leather into straps or laces, aided by a skill. She also bought a cute hand mirror from a different stall to replace her aging one. The engraved cat motif on the back was just far too charming to resist. Inspiration struck Ranthia while she was out on the town, so she hurried back to the tavern to buy a third¡ªor maybe fifth?¡ªnight in her room. She also impulse bought a bowl full of potato stew (that was woefully under seasoned but at least it didn¡¯t smell ¡®off¡¯) from the tavern before she barred her door to her small room. She had planned to keep Amaus around in her [Image Recall], just to be safe. Plus, she had put so much work into designing him and learning how to animate a male form or move in it herself convincingly. Then there was all that voice training¡­ Okay, yes, she was still super frustrated that all of that had been a complete and total waste of time. But right then she only had two slots in [Image Recall], so she mercilessly purged him from the skill. So long, Amaus. That done, Ranthia completely disrobed, except for her arcanite vest, then sat down on the vaguely comfortable bed that she had spent far too much time in while she studied her face in her new mirror. She truly almost felt like a different person with Hexara¡¯s masterful application of makeup and part of her dreaded how badly her own attempt to apply cosmetics would inevitably go. But for now, she focused on memorizing every detail of her mature, [Sexy] face. Then she tried to imagine herself¡ªwith her stunningly cosmetically enhanced face¡ªwearing that gorgeous purple garment she had so dearly desired. As she sculpted the mental image, she studied her own body for the areas that would show. This was a more subtle application of [Distorted Likeness] than Amaus had been, so when the idea had come to her, she had expected it to be easier. But it also wasn¡¯t something that she had ever attempted before. She had never (at least not intentionally) before tried to make a mirror image that was dressed differently from how she was. Amaus had worn the same leather cloak, the only difference was that his knife sheaths had been positioned behind his back to make it less obvious that he and Ranthia were dressed identically. But it was still the same equipment, just a little moved around. In contrast, she was trying to make a mental image wearing something she never had before. She had no idea how it would work, but that was the point of the experiment. It definitely wasn¡¯t just to see if she could find a way to get access to the garment without buying it while she was in a mirror image¡¯s body. It was a valid experiment to discover the fine details of her core skillset. And she wanted to remember how she looked with Hexara¡¯s makeup forever. Once the mental image was ready, she stored it in [Image Recall] and activated [Scattered Reflections] to see how she did. [*ding!* [Distorted Likeness] has leveled from 4 to level 6!] [*ding!* [Image Recall] has reached level 38!] Skill gains were nice, but Ranthia was completely focused on the mirror image that had appeared. She had¡­ utterly failed to recreate the garment. Her best efforts had generated a pale imitation that lacked many of the tiny details that tied the real thing together so beautifully. But the cut was exquisite and very [Sexy] on her frame. And with her face done up so perfectly¡­ Ranthia admired her mirror image for a little timeless age, almost in a trance. ¡­Until she realized that she was fondling her mirror image. When had her hand drifted there?! Reality crashed in on her as she yanked her hand away and tried desperately to not think about how realistic of a sensation [Persistent Imagery] had somehow given her mirror images now that it was so much higher in level. When a traitorous part of her mind started to wonder what sorts of things she could do with [Reflective Motility] with these more realistic images, Ranthia swiftly dismissed the mirror image and went to bed with half of her bland stew left in its bowl. Clearly, she was done for the day! Ranthia struggled to fall asleep while she stubbornly refused to address those traitorous thoughts and, in an effort to avoid doing anything that even hinted the tiniest bit at indulgent vanity, did her best to not think about Hexara either. She was unsuccessful. But at least she wasn¡¯t thinking about how miserable she was underneath it all. The next morning, just before dawn, Ranthia grudgingly hit the baths and felt terribly guilty while she washed away the remnants of the cosmetics that Hexara had applied. They had gotten smudged terribly in her restless slumber, but somehow washing away what was left felt like a betrayal. She was oh-so-tempted to go get them redone, but she gradually talked herself out of it. She was an Adventurer! She didn¡¯t need beautifully [Sexy] cosmetics painted onto her face fresh every day. She did, however, try to lightly apply some of the cosmetics herself after her bath. ¡­When she checked her mirror after, she half expected [Sexy] to lose a level at the result. Hurriedly, Ranthia washed off her heinous crime against the amazing cosmetics before she set about her day. Her efforts to avoid thinking about the reality of a world without Tatius or Pupius had caused her to plan basically every single thing that she was able to throw the whole of her focus at. On the list was one item that she really, really didn¡¯t want to deal with. She knew she would regret it. She knew there was effectively no chance of it working out positively. ¡­But her goal for the day was to try to track down her mother. Hexara would probably be the smart place to start, but Ranthia preferred to keep the woman separated from the, no doubt terrible, task. Instead, she focused on another member of the group that she expected to be easier to find, the one that had been trying to catch her mother¡¯s eye. The baker. After all, how many bakeries could there be in Ariminum? Stupid questions were stupid. It was late in the day when Ranthia finally got a positive lead. At a bakery owned by the government¡ªsomething about bread allotments for the needy¡ªone of the more veteran employees recognized her description of the baker. ...Except the man was no longer in Ariminum. Apparently he and his youngest son had left town roughly two years ago. The eldest son had joined the legion. It was obnoxious to have put so much effort into her best lead, only to get nowhere with it, though Ranthia was a touch amused to learn that the baker had always been single as far as his work-friend knew. The asshole had sided with her mother in an effort to impress the woman into his bed and had clearly gotten nothing out of it! Unfortunately, this meant her only real lead was lost. Not expecting much, she asked the man if he knew anything about a woman that had entered town along with the baker. The man started laughing immediately. Apparently, the baker had been obsessed with a woman that he¡¯d known. And had continued to court her, despite her rejections, until she married someone else. Ranthia was laughing along with the guy¡ªit was legitimately hilarious just how badly the jerk baker had failed¡ªand then the guy suddenly clapped his hands and announced that he remembered the name of her husband. The mental whiplash hit Ranthia hard. One moment, she was without leads but distracted with uproarious laughter at the man¡¯s story. In the next she was terrified of hearing the next words from the man¡¯s mouth. She had failed¡ªhow unfair was it to suddenly hand her an absolute success?! It was fairly easy to find the first Iccius¡¯ Food stall. The young man that manned it didn¡¯t know anything about the owner¡¯s wife, though he became visibly nervous when Ranthia asked about the owner. What he was able to do was give her the exact location of every one of his associate stalls, though he warned her that they all sold the exact same food. Poor guy seemed desperate for a sale, so she did buy a piece of bread topped with some sort of too-dry meat. It was okay, nothing special. But Ranthia was starting to get hungry. The second location proved fruitless, just another young man desperate to make a sale. Something about being under quota. The words didn¡¯t mean much to Ranthia, but they did paint a bleak picture of the man that seemed to be her mother¡¯s husband. She bought a second meat-and-bread to help the young man out. At least that time the meat seemed to have some trace of moisture, but that only highlighted how bland the bread was. Businesses were beginning to close. She had wasted so much of her day talking to Ariminum¡¯s endless plethora of bakeries! Tomorrow was another day, but Ranthia¡¯s heart had been set on either finding her mother or concluding it was impossible that day. She was stubborn! Ranthia hurried across the sprawling, massive capital city, occasionally dipping into the street lane meant for couriers when she needed to dodge around people. She wasn¡¯t quite fast enough to justify that lane, but she was desperate to get a lead before the stalls were abandoned for the day! The next location was near the government district¡ªbut not inside of it, mercifully¡ªlikely placed to try to get sales out of people with business with the government or lesser officials and staff on their way home. If she was truly lucky, it meant that the stall would remain open slightly later than many shops. Naturally, when she arrived, the stall was empty. Ranthia cursed internally while she put off trying to figure out her next move. For a short time, she just stood there, angry, while she listened to the myriads of little conversations that flowed around her. A man trying to convince disinterested coworkers into sharing some wine. A woman angry that she waited all day for some business permit then got denied. A woman describing to her girlfriends with excessive detail what she was going to do to her husband that night. ¡°I really don¡¯t get why you kids have trouble hitting your numbers. I sold a ton today!¡± ¡­That voice¡­ Ranthia spun and sprinted over around the corner as she hurried towards the voice. Someone swore at her after she dodged around him, but she couldn¡¯t care less. It was her. Her mother walked next to a lanky, young man who struggled to carry three crates topped with a sack. Her mother was lecturing the man about how youths have no work ethic and try to blame the world for their problems. In a bit of a daze, Ranthia approached them. It was all too easy to catch up. She had still been a child when she surpassed her mother¡¯s level, even before the stark difference between quality combat classes and a [Laborer] of little capability. ¡°¡­Mother¡­¡± Ranthia whispered. The woman didn¡¯t somehow hear the soft voice and continued to walk while she lectured the poor guy. Though he seemed to have devoted the bulk of his attention to trying desperately to not drop his heavy burden. Ranthia took a gamble and darted into an alley. Fortunately, her mother didn¡¯t make any turns into any other alleys, and she was able to get ahead of the two. She waited until they got close enough, then raised her hand in greeting to the woman that had given birth to her. ¡°Hi?¡± Ranthia said awkwardly, unable to think of anything better. Her mother briefly looked confused, then turned pale. ¡°You run ahead; tell my husband I¡¯ll be home shortly.¡± The woman hurriedly instructed the young man. Ranthia somewhat doubted that he even heard her as he continued on his way, grunting occasionally when the crates shifted. Mother and daughter stared at each other in silence for several long moments until the man disappeared from view. They were far from alone, Ariminum was nowhere near small enough for people to care about giving two people that looked awkward and wound up any privacy. But they focused entirely on each other. ¡°You continue to haunt me¡­¡± Her mother grumbled. ¡°Mother, I¡­ I¡¯m glad you¡¯re safe. I know we didn¡¯t get¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you dare call me that.¡± Okay, so much for her vain hope that this would be heart-warming. Ranthia winced at the cold words. Part of her had expected it, but they still stung more than she expected. ¡°I just wanted to see you, I just thought¡­¡± She tried. ¡°I had hoped you had the decency to die. Don¡¯t you dare show yourself to me again or get in the way of my real family. You¡¯re nothing but a mistake that I regret never drowning when you suddenly went wrong.¡± The woman spat, her tone acidic. Ranthia just stood there, while her mother stormed past her and stomped away. She needed to hit something, she decided. Book 1 - Chapter 23 - Heart & Home Fortunately, the Adventurer¡¯s Guild never closed, no matter how late it was. Ranthia found herself in front of the job board as she tried to find something immediate and violent. Naturally, there was nothing that fit the bill. Most of the violent jobs required a journey outside town, except like every other city in Remus, Ariminum shut its gates at night. Honestly, almost all of the jobs needed it to be daylight for one reason or another. Sure, some of the bounties offered for bringing in wanted criminals might be doable, at least some of those men and women were likely in town, but hunting down a wanted person was hardly a fast and cathartic task. Investigations, the bane of a need for immediate violence. The Guildmaster was with a group of men that were passing by while they chatted, though the man happened to notice Ranthia at the job board. He bade the other gentlemen a good night, then strode over and joined her at the job board, as if the Guildmaster had any real need to look at it. ¡°I had hoped to see you sooner. How are you finding our city?¡± He asked. Ranthia wasn¡¯t startled, she had heard his approach and recognized his voice when he was speaking to the others. She did decide to continue to awkwardly stare at the job board, as her mind focused on trying to find a job for tomorrow. She really wasn¡¯t up for conversation, but alas. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve been dealing with personal matters. The city is¡­ fine?¡± She had no idea how to answer the question. The man couldn¡¯t have forgotten about the news he dropped on her last they met¡ªwhy was he assuming she was enjoying herself? ¡°Indeed. I never asked, did you have a place to stay?¡± ¡°I got a room in a tavern pretty near here for now, I haven¡¯t decided what to do long term.¡± ¡°¡­I see. Tell you what, I probably should have saved this for keeping one of the Rank A¡¯s around, but my predecessor did speak exceedingly highly of you. I¡¯ll make an investment in that. Are you familiar with the Owl¡¯s Sanctum?¡± Ranthia shook her head, baffled at why he expected her to know anything about some bird seller or something. People were so weird with their eternal desire for caged animals to try to keep as novelty d¨¦cor or try to form companion bonds with. She had little interest in such things. The Guildmaster failed to explain himself. Instead, he gave her directions to the location and told her to speak to a man named Meneas there, after morning. Then he forced her to wait while he wrote a quick message on a blank scroll. Admittedly, it was a vaguely impressive sight; the man¡¯s hand was a blur while he wrote, empowered by some specialized skill. Once he was done, she was handed the scroll and instructed to give it to this Meanmoss or whatever his name was on the morrow. Ranthia just nodded, confused and overwhelmed. With that, the Guildmaster bade her a good night and made his exit while he whistled a tune. Ranthia examined the job board a little longer, but ultimately bowed politely to the clerk and left without taking any. Unless whatever the Guildmaster had handed her was a job, the lack of detail was more than a touch maddening. While she was in the Guildhall, Ariminum¡¯s nightlife had taken over. The stalls were occupied by entirely different shops than they had by day. Jugglers and illusionists provided entertainment. Women and men displayed entirely different types of goods as they tried to entice customers to the brothels that employed them. Ranthia wandered for a while and explored the sights. She hadn¡¯t seen this side of the city yet, and she was kind of loving it. The city felt transformed and far more mystical beneath the gorgeous moonlight. The entertainers were eye-catching and many of them had performances that required so much space that they would have been unable to perform during the significantly more crowded daytime. Where many of the shows would have been drowned out by the sunlight, they dazzled in the night. Ranthia wandered, vaguely enraptured¡ªand mercifully distracted from her problems¡ªuntil one entertainer in particular caught her attention. It was a gorgeous, very pale woman with piercing red eyes touched with formless grey shifting about. Her hair was roughly as short as Ranthia¡¯s, though spiky black. The woman was a [Dancer], and she seemed to be a damned good one. It wasn¡¯t entirely surprising that her costume probably had less than two hands worth of strategically placed fabric, connected by fine silver chains, but the more surprising part was that it wasn¡¯t the sexuality and generous curves on display that drew Ranthia in. Instead, it was the woman¡¯s incredible grace that drew the teenager¡¯s gaze. The sensuous movements of the dance were swift, graceful, and hypnotic. But more than that, they spoke to a part of Ranthia. Not in a sexual or romantic way, but something¡­ deeper. Ranthia marveled in the movements until finally her distracted mind placed what had caught her attention so deeply. [Knives & War] loved the show. She even felt like the skill would have leveled if it wasn¡¯t capped. Somehow, the dance reminded her of an elegant battle, a graceful display of magnificent rhythm. The fluid motions resonated with her and whispered promises of potential within her. The dancer was surprisingly high level for a civilian. [Artisan ¨C Dark] level 216 and [Warrior ¨C Gale] level 128. Ranthia supposed that she should have found the levels and the [Warrior] class strange for a performer, but honestly? Her classes and levels felt natural due to the sheer beauty of the woman¡¯s graceful movements. Ranthia had no idea how long she watched the woman framed between the two beautiful, mystical moons. It was only when she finally realized that the moons had faded from sight that she was finally startled out of her reverie. The dancer had continued her dance without a single pause in all that time. Ranthia wasn¡¯t even sure if she could have danced that long without a single interruption! Ranthia hurriedly tossed an overflowing handful of coins into the bowl near the woman¡¯s feet, which got a nod of appreciation from the dancer. Gods and goddesses, even the nod seemed to flow into and be a natural part of her ongoing dance. Ranthia had to tear herself away before she lost the entire night to the woman¡¯s art. She had a job in the morning! ¡­Probably? Eternally tempted to turn back with every step she took, Ranthia returned to her room and settled down to try to get at least some sleep. Ranthia failed to get up before the sun, but at least it was still morning when she finally roused herself out of bed. In a bit of a rush, she visited the baths, then geared up for the first time since she had entered town. At least her dinosaur leather cloak was cleaner now. Once she was ready, she set out for the¡­ Owl¡¯s Sanitorium, or something like that? The fact that it was an important(?) job(??) only barely helped her inability to recall names, it seemed. At least the scroll had¡­ Minimus¡¯ name on it; or at least she was pretty sure that¡¯s how those letters were read. The building shockingly had nothing to do with birds, despite the gigantic statue of an owl perched in front of the building. Instead, it was some sort of massive¡­ inn? She had no context for anything like this. Though the district was only what Ranthia thought of as the middle-good district (she was not sharing that term with anyone else), the place felt like it should have been deep within the wealthiest district. Polished marble, murals everywhere she looked, staff in finely tailored and dyed uniforms, vivid colors painted everywhere, and¡­ were those gemstones on that door?! Awkwardly and stiffly, Ranthia walked up to one of the¡ªmany¡ªcounters and asked to see Minius while she presented the scroll, though she didn¡¯t open it. The man behind the counter smiled a stiff smile at the wildly out of place Adventurer and ushered her into a waiting room with the softest, plushest piece of furniture that Ranthia had ever experienced. It made her wildly uncomfortable. She half expected guards to burst in and arrest her for ruining the nice furniture with her plebeian butt the moment she sat down. Ranthia just focused on trying to force herself to not be jumpy. She was there for a reason! She had no idea what the reason was, mind, but she was supposed to be there. That was the important thing. It didn¡¯t matter that her rear was planted on something that probably cost more than she had ever made throughout her entire life. A man dressed in a rich blue toga entered after a while with a formal but comfortable smile on his face. ¡°Thank you for waiting, I¡¯m Meneas. I was told you bear a message for me, lady courier?¡± The man¡¯s voice sounded polite enough, at least. ¡°Oh, um, actually I¡¯m an Adventurer. The Guildmaster told me to give you this.¡± Her efforts to make herself less jumpy had failed, she still jumped up the instant the man entered. Despite her ongoing efforts to master her flustered blush, Ranthia stepped forward to hand him the scroll. ¡°Oh, I wasn¡¯t expecting someone so young! Well, let¡¯s see¡­¡± The man opened the scroll and read it while Ranthia desperately struggled to not twitch and squirm. She wasn¡¯t normally this restless! ¡°Well, let¡¯s see how you do. Shall we?¡± The man announced after he finished reading. Ranthia received one of her least favorite things while they walked: an information dump. In summary, the place offered short- and medium-term housing to officials and wealthy citizens that had business with the government in the capital. They had their own security force but what the man described as a miscommunication had resulted in their private security not handling the facility¡¯s own connections to the aqueducts and sewer. This ultimately caused, in his words, ¡°a tremendous ¡®pest¡¯ problem.¡± Complete with the strange emphasis on pest. Minimoose decided to consult with the Guildmaster, who somehow negotiated that, in exchange, they should house one of his elite Adventurers. The Adventurer would periodically do a clean-up run of any new pests while they lived there. Somehow, and gods alone knew why a B-Ranked was selected, Ranthia had ended up that Adventurer. The deal seemed profoundly overly generous! At least once a month she had to delve into the workings beneath the place to deal with any and all pests and problems. In exchange, she was to be given one of their more basic units free of charge. No meals would be included, though she would be able to order and pay for them if she wished. If at any point she was unable to perform her duty in a timely manner, she would be charged a normal month¡¯s rate for the room. And the number of rods that he named for the rate nearly made Ranthia trip over her own feet. How did anyone afford that place?! And this was the ¡®basic¡¯ room?! ¡°Best of luck, I¡¯ll have one of our staff wait in the storage room right here with the key to your unit. If you are unsuccessful at dealing with the pests, please be honest.¡± And then he handed her a lantern he procured from a small cubby near the door, unbarred and unlocked the door¡ªan actual lock, with a key! For a mere interior door!¡ªand ushered her in. The man made no move to follow and, instead, closed the door with what seemed like excessive speed and force the moment she walked past. ¡­She hesitated until she was confident that she hadn¡¯t heard the lock or the bar. There was a set of stone stairs that led her deeper into the gloom. At the bottom of the stairs was, bizarrely enough, a war zone. Slimes on a scale she had never before seen nor believed existed, gigantic rats, and some sort of tiny dinosaurs were engaged in a massive three-way skirmish for territory. There had to be thousands of them. And, less shockingly, the smell of the sewers had already found her nose, overpowering even the carnage that unfolded before her. Ranthia just kind of stared at the situation while she allowed herself to imagine going back to the client, shaking her head, and leaving. She had thought the deal was too good to be true, but she had been wrong. The deal was completely fair! At length, Ranthia finally accepted that she was going to try to deal with the situation, so she crept a bit higher on the stairs. The stairs, at least, seemed to have some sort of still-active inscription that discouraged the ¡®pests¡¯. With her body secure, she channeled while she threw out her first mirror image, shifted to it, and began her bloody work. Apparently, slimes came in exceedingly acidic forms too. She never knew. She had never wanted to know. [*ding!* [Strengthen Blade] has leveled from 122 to level 124!] For the first time in her life, kill notifications had to be disabled. She would have gone insane. Once again, while her knives carved through rat after rat, she was so tempted to just leave. Once again, while she set upon another group of the tiny dinosaurs¡ªcompsognathus, apparently¡ªshe narrowly managed to convince herself that a decent place to live with some level of privacy would be worth it. It would be worth it, right? At least [Blades of Darkness] seemed to protect her knives from the acid. She only had to worry about her poor, highly abused leather cloak. Hopefully she would still be able to get it repaired. [Combat Awareness] pulled its weight, and she was beginning to be exceedingly grateful that she had upgraded the skill. It was all that allowed her to protect her valuable arcanite vest, despite her tunic¡¯s extensive damage and just how much acidic slime was everywhere. If one of the rats or dinosaurs had a disease and bit one of her mirror images, the disease wouldn¡¯t be transferred when she shifted to another body, would it? Injuries weren¡¯t transferred, but her equipment¡ªdamage and all¡ªand the contents of her stomach seemed to. ¡­Maybe she would visit a Dark [Healer] afterwards, she decided. Seriously, how could a single free room be worth this? Ranthia took yet another break on the stairs in her true body while she waited for her mana to regenerate. Her waterskin was really starting to feel light too. Just how long had she been down there? She finally felt like she had made real progress. The ¡®pests¡¯ seemed to be thinning. At long, long last nothing moved. The job was¡­ done. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Shards of Reflection] has reached level 168! +1 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +2 Speed, +7 Mana, +9 Mana Regeneration, +7 Magic Power, +7 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration and +1 Magic Power from your element.] [*ding!* [Mirror Spirit], [Scattered Reflections], [Divine-Touched Identify], [Dodging], and [Combat Awareness] have reached level 168!] [*ding!* [Reflections of Reality] has reached level 45!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Sudden End] has reached level 105! +5 Strength, +11 Dexterity, +4 Vitality, +7 Speed from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana from your element.]If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. [*ding!* [Dark Affinity], [Knives & War], [Blades of Darkness], and [Strengthen Blade] have reached level 105!] [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has leveled from 90 to 92!] It wasn¡¯t like she had taken the job for the levels, she wearily reminded herself. Everything individually was so low in level she was somewhat surprised her classes each leveled, though she had fought so long and killed so much she was also somewhat surprised that she got so little out of the ordeal. Still, the levels weren¡¯t the point this time. Ranthia shifted back to her real body, gathered her belongings, and trudged wearily back up the stairs. Her leather cloak was ruined, she wearily accepted that there was no way she could possibly get it repaired. It had been so patchwork before, but now most of the material was just¡­ gone. Her cloak was so damaged that she was no longer even remotely decent, especially since her men¡¯s tunic that she wore beneath it was practically destroyed. At least she had, somehow, protected her arcanite vest. Her belt was safe too, since she had been forced to leave it on the stairs since she quickly realized that there was no way to protect both it and the vest. And she had needed the vest¡¯s arcanite. Ranthia was in a foul mood, but she knew she wasn¡¯t done yet. There was no way this job had been worth it, Ranthia grumbled to herself as she trudged upstairs, more naked than not. She had just bought those sandals! The maid that was waiting for her had fallen asleep on a little cot in the back of the storage room, though the woman woke up when Ranthia more noisily re-opened the door from the stairs. Ranthia instructed her to find any scrap wood or metal that would be okay to destroy and get some charcoal so they could burn the pests¡¯ remains before the smell attracted more problems. Not that it was the worst smell down there by a large margin. The maid, naturally, offered no actual assistance. The woman just ensured that Ranthia had some firewood, a pile of broken fragments of wood and metal, and sack filled with charcoal. Then wished her luck. The woman refused to even look at what was down the stairs. Which probably made her smarter than Ranthia. Obnoxiously, Ranthia ended up deciding that the best way to handle the dead slimes was to just inhabit a mirror image and scoop them up with her hands and toss them in the sewer line, then repeat until she was forced to dismiss the mirror image when the pain got too overwhelming. Trying to scrape them up with the scrap just broke the bodies up and made a huge mess. She knew that she could probably sell the bodies to an [Alchemist], but she had no way to transport them since they even slowly dissolved the scrap metal. ¡­She was halfway done when she realized that she was an idiot. She had gotten pretty good at [Reflective Motility] and [Persistent Imagery] had gotten pretty high level. So, she figured¡­ Yup, that entire time could have just let uninhabited mirror images handle the clean-up. She was even able to get four of them working at once, so the last of the clean-up went pretty fast. Periodically one of the images would break, but it was easy enough to replace. Adding insult to injury, the process was more mana efficient than what she had been doing, with how expensive [Reflections of Reality] was. It was great for leveling the skills too, naturally. She had serious regrets that she was almost too tired to appreciate. [*ding!* [Reflective Motility] has leveled from 133 to level 138!] [*ding!* [Persistent Imagery] has leveled from 101 to level 114!] Once the slimes were dealt with, Ranthia built a pyre near an area where she felt better airflow and burnt the corpses of the dinosaurs and rats. She lost her last shreds of respect for herself when her traitorous stomach actually freaking growled at the scent. She was still in the sewers! At long, long last she awoke the maid again to report that the job was done. The maid finally descended the stairs far enough to see the ground beneath them was clear, which was good enough for her. The woman practically ran back upstairs and dry heaved a couple of times before she managed to recompose herself. Then, calmly, as if her fa?ade had never failed, she led Ranthia through the back areas the employees used, then snuck her down a hall when she confirmed the coast was clear. It just wouldn¡¯t do to lend a guest an employee¡¯s uniform. Apparently. So, somehow, the polite thing to do was to have Ranthia run around¡ªmostly out of sight¡ªmostly nude. Not that Ranthia particularly minded, so long as there were no creeps ogling her. Then, at last, Ranthia found herself in the home she had fought for, key in hand. ¡­It had been worth it, she decided immediately. She had a nice sitting room with a nice big lattice over the deep-set window for natural light. The room was fully furnished with several plush chairs, a couch, a desk, and a small table with beautifully carved seats. The room also provided her with her first proof that it was nearly dawn, ouch. Through a set of thick red curtains was the bedroom, with a dresser and a large bed that looked softer than any bed she had ever seen. Then another set of curtains¡ªdyed blue¡ªled to a bathroom that had an actual personal bath. A personal heated bath, at that. Ranthia eagerly stripped off what little she still wore. Then, while she lowered herself into the delightfully perfect water, she let out what had to be the loudest, most passionate moan of pleasure she had ever made. The relief felt so intense that she actually shuddered in bliss. The tub even had inscriptions that kept the water blissfully warm! Ranthia scrubbed herself clean in the tub, but immediately decided that she deserved a good soak. The tub was just too nice to get out so soon. A short time later, the exhausted Adventurer ended up falling asleep in the tub, lulled by the warmth of the bath that soothed the heavy exhaustion that she bore. Being woken up the next morning by a maid that assumed she was out, since no one had responded to her knocking or the call she gave when she entered, would have been embarrassing enough. But no, Ranthia¡¯s true mortification came from being found out cold in the bathtub with her skin feeling¡ªand looking¡ªhorrendously disgusting from being so waterlogged. In her defense, the maid¡ªa different one from last night¡ªwas a consummate professional. She never laughed or showed any sign of mirth or disgust. The woman helped Ranthia up, ensured that Ranthia was alright¡ª"Yes, sorry, I was just more tired than I thought, thank you.¡±¡ªand recommended a colleague who could help with how water-logged Ranthia was. Naturally, the colleague was part of their in-house stylists and relaxation treatment team. Which was fascinating. It sounded extravagant and she was more than just happy with Hexara¡¯s skill, but she figured that having a back-up stylist handy sounded nice. ¡­At least until she asked how much a session with them cost. The price the maid quoted was in rods and had plural zeroes on it. Immediately Ranthia felt incredibly uncomfortable staying at such a place, even if she was being allowed to call it home. In an effort to shake out her nerves, Ranthia decided to engage the maid in a bit of conversation, since the woman didn¡¯t seem to be in a hurry. She had expected that the staff was predominantly comprised of slaves whose debts had been purchased, but she was pleased to learn that every member of the staff was a hired employee that seemed to be well compensated. Many of them were ex-slaves or those who otherwise had experience with supporting wealthy and/or important people. The style of work that the Owl¡¯s Sanctimony¡ªor whatever¡ªrequired came naturally to them. Ranthia was in the middle of trying to ask questions to get a sense of just how large the place was when she suddenly realized something very, very important. ¡­She was supposed to meet up with Hexara! Ranthia was in an absolute panicked rush from the moment that her brain realized what day it was. Immediately, Ranthia decided that money was no object, and she requested the help of the beautician that the maid had mentioned. A water [Mage] felt like a strange addition to a beauty and relaxation treatments team, but in short order Ranthia went from looking like she had stolen her skin off of a drowned woman to a healthy sheen that looked better than her skin ever had before. The woman was worth the rods, and mercifully they were even able to arrange it so that Ranthia only needed to pay later for the treatment, it could wait until after she got back to the Sanctum (such a weird name, but it got repeated often enough that she was finally confident that she had it). As soon as Ranthia was done with the [Mage], the maid that had been so nice and helpful presented her with a women¡¯s tunic and a pair of sandals that were perfectly sized for Ranthia. They were compliments of the owner, apparently, though Ranthia somewhat suspected it was to keep her from walking around almost completely exposed a second time. She even had to admit the tunic was better quality than any other that she owned, with its subtle blue dyed trim and elegant embroidery, even if she was never a fan of the length or constrictive design of women¡¯s tunics. Even the sandals were superior to the pair that she lost. Ranthia thanked the maid swiftly, but with genuine emotion, then she was off. Her belt was worn over the new tunic, with the key to her completely deserved (and completely too much) home secured in one of its pouches. ¡°I¡¯m here!¡± Ranthia called out the instant she caught sight of Hexara. The gorgeous woman¡¯s face was a blend of sad and worried, which made Ranthia¡¯s heart ache, though she was relieved that Hexara was still waiting. Ranthia was more than a little late. But even as Hexara turned to face her, her face twisted into a strange balance of relief and annoyance. Ranthia bowed, deeply, immediately upon arrival. It was something she had stopped doing back when she was a kid, since no one else in Remus seemed to do it. She had learned to live like she belonged, but sometimes old habits just felt the most correct in desperate situations. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry! I had a job yesterday that took me almost all night to finish, then I ended up passing out hard. The downside of¡­ um¡­ being an Adventurer.¡± Ranthia finished lamely. She had wanted to say ¡®dating an Adventurer¡¯ or ¡®being with an Adventurer¡¯ but her nerves failed her, and she failed at being quite so presumptive. She really, really hoped that¡¯s what they were doing¡ªthe kissing they had done sure seemed to suggest it¡ªbut she felt weirdly shy. She had dated before! She was experienced and womanly, so why was she being so accursedly skittish?! ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re okay, I suppose. ¡­And maybe a little professionally disappointed you didn¡¯t put on those cosmetics you bought.¡± Hexara winked. ¡°Ugh, yeah that reminds me. I need more lessons from you. My attempt to put it on myself was¡­ well, let¡¯s just say I¡¯m not going to be leveling [Sexy] by myself any time soon.¡± Hexara laughed happily, approached, and embraced Ranthia. Ranthia wasn¡¯t quite sure which of them initiated it, but the two shared a soft, warm kiss for a moment before Hexara pulled away. ¡°At least you¡¯re still rather [Sexy] even without. I look like a mess without my cosmetics!¡± The beautician flirted. ¡°Nonsense, I¡¯m sure you look beyond great no matter what. I can barely believe you¡¯re the same woman that I knew back then¡­¡± ¡°Ha! Yeah, finally getting decent food in me helped quite a bit, plus I had [Pretty] back then and evolved it into [Sexy]¡ªand actually got some levels in it¡ªfor my job. But you! I mean you¡¯re what, 18 now? And now look at you!¡± ¡°Er, 16 actually.¡± Ranthia had decently high vitality by most standards. Vitality enhanced one¡¯s senses, so she didn¡¯t miss it when Hexara winced at the reveal of her age, no matter how masterfully the woman tried to hide it. Ranthia was hurt, a little, but worse it allowed yet another worry to take root in her mind. As if she needed more¡ªshe was already hiding from so much. Of course, it was difficult to blame Hexara for the mistake. Ranthia was tall for a woman, she was even taller than most men these days. While she didn¡¯t have the showy, overbuilt focused muscles of a bodybuilder, she had the lean, firm body of someone that put their whole body to use in hard circumstances often. If she was better about eating three full, healthy meals each day¡ªlike Tatius would have insisted¡ªand hadn¡¯t been outright underfed for the first eight years of her life she would have probably been huge, but as it was by most metrics her body was far more mature and impressive than it should have been for her age. Which she earnestly believed matched her mentality, usually. ¡°I hope I¡¯m not too late for what you had planned today?¡± Ranthia prompted, hopeful. ¡°Oh, of course not! I wanted to show you some of my favorite places in town, then I figured we could do a little shopping together.¡± Hexara was all smiles and excitement again, as if her tick of whatever that had been had never happened. ¡°That would be perfect, though if it¡¯s okay can we start with something tasty? I didn¡¯t get to eat anything before I rushed over. I might need to stop by the temple to restock my funds before we go shopping, I think I only have a handful of coins left after everything.¡± Hexara and Ranthia shared a surprisingly delicious dish that was made from eggs and cream in a pastry shell at a bakery that Hexara fervently recommended. Even their cakes and other sweet treats looked amazing enough to tempt even Ranthia¡¯s dubious sweet tooth. Not that she expected them to taste as good as they looked. Sweets all too often just were overpoweringly sweet with little actual flavor. They were still magnificent looking though. That done, they then visited the temple where Ranthia picked up as many rods and coins as she could comfortably fit on her person. Fortunately, her vault was still healthily filled, though she really did need to organize it better someday. Even more fortunately, she managed to get in and out without getting arrested, for the first time! Someday she needed to try her luck with the actual temple part; she hadn¡¯t yet prayed to Xaoc at his altar in Ariminum, and it was starting to weigh on her conscience. Ranthia had mixed feelings about the first play that she ever watched. The story was interesting and the actors¡ªand solitary actress¡ªseemed skilled, at least to her untrained eye. But just sitting there while she watched other people¡¯s drama unfold, fictional or not, left her unfulfilled and feeling awkward. Still, she could easily tolerate it for Hexara, who seemed entranced by the performance, even if she doubted that she¡¯d ever attend such a thing by herself. The water garden was much nicer. The whole thing was a work of art made out of carved stone with carefully maintained flowers and other plants thoughtfully positioned throughout. The real beauty came from the water that flowed all around them, fed by its own little aqueduct. It was peaceful and beautiful. And with the sound of the water, even the other people around¡ªmostly other couples enjoying time together¡ªseemed quiet and unobtrusive. Plus, they got to share more kisses while they sat and enjoyed the scenery, which made it even better. Especially since it proved to Ranthia that Hexara was still willing to kiss her. Of course, Remus had to indulge in blood sports. Ranthia glared spitefully at the colosseum when they passed it. Hexara wanted to show her the sights, but she could have lived without that one. Her entire life¡ªand the lives of so many other men and women¡ªwas a desperate and bloody struggle to survive. And yet there was a stupid business turning it into a game for the enjoyment of wealthy, feckless idiots that lacked a single moral amongst them all. She¡¯d never set foot in there. Tea and snacks came next. The little outdoor caf¨¦ was charming. But, in Ranthia¡¯s eyes, it had two major flaws. First and foremost, the place was crowded. They had to wait for a while to be seated and it made the service so slow and everything oh so noisy. Worse, with the crowds, Hexara demurred on the offer of physical affection to pass the time. Second, Ranthia just could not get into tea. She liked her beverages room temperature or water chilled. If she was going to consume a hot liquid, why not sip a small serving of soup for some nutrients and bolder flavors? Still, she made an effort for Hexara¡¯s sake. Even if she guessed the flavors in the beverage completely inaccurately, much to Hexara¡¯s bemusement. Why were they so subtle? Subtle was not something Ranthia excelled at in any capacity! Shopping was much more fun. So many odd items and little shops or market stalls were in Ariminum. The capital had the population to support frivolity or efforts to get odd ideas off the ground, and by Xaoc every merchant seemed to have realized as much. Ranthia and Hexara had a ton of fun just browsing, trying on odd-looking hats, and generally entertaining one another. Best of all, the flirting had started back up! Little compliments turned bolder and bolder as the women enjoyed their time together. Then they actually ended up in the same shop Ranthia had found the other day, in front of the garment that Ranthia had been so taken with. ¡°Oh goddess, that would be insanely perfect on you. It¡¯s like¡­ who¡¯s your patron deity again? Oh right, it¡¯s like Xaoc put it in your path for you.¡± Hexara whispered. ¡°Ugh, I know, it¡¯s exquisite and amazing and soooo pricey.¡± Ranthia whispered back. ¡°You said you could afford it, why not splurge? For the quality, the price actually is pretty reasonable. I bet this was a custom order that some rich idiot never picked up, so it¡¯s kind of a great deal if you ask me.¡± ¡°Ugh, you¡¯re right. But¡­¡± ¡°I would love to see you in it.¡± Ranthia¡¯s willpower teetered¡­ ¡°And I¡¯d love to take it off of you too.¡± Hexara added in a huskier, quieter whisper. Ranthia blinked three times. ¡°¡­Okay. Let¡¯s do this!¡± Ranthia announced, her cheeks stained red. Ranthia approached the counter. The owners looked down their noses at her. ¡°I¡¯ll be trying on the outfit I and my¡­ friend were looking at.¡± Utter cowardice seized Ranthia again. ¡°Ahem, we don¡¯t allow non-customers to just try things on.¡± The man replied. Ranthia smiled, smugly, and began to stack rods on the counter until she had placed down the full price of the garment. The duo¡¯s eyes grew larger and larger throughout the process, possibly in part due to shock at how she had managed to carry so many rods. ¡°I just want to ensure that it fits and needs no alterations. Once I¡¯ve tried it on and any alterations are done, would it be possible to get it delivered to my unit at the Owl¡¯s Sanctum?¡± ¡°Ah-er, of course my lady! The wife will show you to the back area if your companion will wait here?¡± Ranthia had never seen such a mad scramble to get back into her good graces and she had to admit, it was a fun little side benefit to buying the expensive piece of cloth. It didn¡¯t take long for Ranthia to decide that she was wrong. The gorgeous garment was its own reward; the side benefits meant nothing. It fit her perfectly. It looked and felt amazing. And she loved how Hexara barely seemed able to keep her hands to herself when Ranthia came out wearing it. Best flagrant waste of money ever! Ranthia changed back into her tunic and let the owners handle getting the lovely garment packed up and sent to her new home. She flatly refused to expose such a work of art to the harsh conditions of the streets. She felt that she would have deserved to be arrested for committing such a heinous crime against such beauty. After that she and Hexara linked arms and left the store, heads held high. Almost the very moment that they were out of the store they promptly dissolved into giggles over how the owners had almost tripped over themselves trying to appease and flatter them both. They had even been shown a number of other outfits whose prices seemed to shed rods moment to moment. They had held firm though and resisted the lesser temptation the other garments offered. One moment they were giggling and laughing. The next, Ranthia abruptly yanked her arm out of Hexara¡¯s and lashed out in a desperate grab. The thief that had snatched Hexara¡¯s coin purse dodged her grab with ease, then tried to run. Only to find Ranthia in front of him. And then, when he hurriedly turned, there she was at his side. He spun in place, but she had surrounded him with mirror images that all closed in. ¡°Return my girlfriend¡¯s purse and apologize.¡± Ranthia ordered, glaring at the kid. The kid grumbled something nasty and dropped the purse, then fled while Ranthia picked it up. The brat had cut the strings, and it would need new ones. Ranthia held it up to Hexara glumly. ¡°Sorry, the kid was sneaky, and I noticed him only when he started cutting the strings. I¡¯ll pay for its repairs.¡± Hexara was just staring at her in shock. ¡°I know, I know; as an Adventurer of my rank, I should have seen him coming. But he was good!¡± Ranthia protested. ¡°There are five of you!¡± Hexara squealed. ¡°¡­Oh, that. Uh, yeah, meet my main class?¡± Ranthia lost the rest of the date to showing off some of the tricks that she could pull with her [Shards of Reflection] class. Though Hexara did ask a few questions that got her wondering. Maybe it really was about time to really put in some directed effort to see exactly what she could and couldn¡¯t do. The whole thing with disposing of the dead slimes had taught her that she had underestimated what she could do these days. Also, she was mortified to learn that Hexara had only had her decoy purse stolen, a pouch that just had some junk in it that made it feel like it had coins in it. Her real coin purse had been inside her tunic the whole time, without Ranthia even noticing. Apparently, that¡¯s what most people that lived in Ariminum did to counter the heavy presence of skilled thieves. Her big heroic moment was a total waste! When they returned to Hexara¡¯s home after the sun had set, they kissed for a good while. ¡°So¡­ are you going to invite me in?¡± Ranthia finally asked, nervously, after they broke apart for air. Hexara laughed and shook her head. Ranthia¡¯s hopes crashed and her worries returned to the forefront, which clearly showed on her face, because Hexara laughed again and reached up to cup her cheek. ¡°If I did, what would I use to tempt you into a second date? Next time, hun.¡± Hexara teased. A final kiss and Ranthia was alone. But she was happy. Her mood was bubbly enough that she actually skipped the entire way back to the tavern she had been staying at and retrieved her few belongings that were still there, then made her way back to her new¡ªstill scary¡ªhome. Maybe Ariminum wasn¡¯t so bad after all. Book 1 - Chapter 24 - Inspiration & Aspiration Lazily, Ranthia awoke in her criminally¡ªseriously how was this thing legal?¡ªplush bed and spent a while just rolling around languishing in bed while she giggled to herself like a lovestruck fool. She was dating! Hexara called it a date and promised that the next time¡ª¡­! Ranthia squirmed with delight beneath her soft blanket. She got a later start than she had expected, but Ranthia¡¯s first task for the new day was to visit the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. He was occupied, so she left a message to thank the Guildmaster with his assistant (one of his assistants? Ariminum was nuts), then set about her task: seeking advice. She needed new armor and thus needed to know who could be trusted to have reliable quality in town. There were more female Adventurers in Ariminum than she had ever met in every other town combined, so she actually had some thin hope that armor suited to someone with a modest chest could be attained without a special commission. She made a real effort to keep her bubbly, bright mood to herself while she asked the clerks on duty and bounced around the various Adventurers that were present as she bugged them for recommendations. It also doubled as her opportunity to introduce herself to her peers. For the most part everyone was very polite and many of them were actually helpful. Ranthia had directions to a dozen different shops that catered to Adventurers and had learned the faces¡ªshe hadn¡¯t miraculously absorbed a single name¡ªof many of those around. When Ranthia was confident that she had what she needed, she was halfway out of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild when an A-Ranked Adventurer pulled her aside, his face serious. Ranthia was briefly nervous, but¡­ ¡°Ignore all the other suggestions. They¡¯re decent for new Adventurers who are buying some cheap mismatched armor. Take it from me, if you have any aspirations to get past Rank B you really need to invest in a custom-made suit with your build, something of high quality that you can trust your life to. You want light armor, right? You can ask the Guildmaster too and he¡¯ll tell you the same place, almost all of us at Rank A¡ªat least those of us that want leather¡ªuse the same guy. Go to the Leather Oak, you won¡¯t regret it.¡± He quietly added the directions to the shop, before he clapped her roughly on the shoulder and went back to the job board where he had been lurking. Convinced, Ranthia set out to the location of this custom shop that the Adventurer had given her. She had already spent a small fortune on an outfit, there was real sense in not cheaping out on the armor that might save her life. The attendant behind the desk at the Leather Oak was a massive man that looked like the physical embodiment of the word blacksmith. Muscles upon muscles, focused primarily on the arms and shoulders. Skin that looked permanently toasted. Intense eyes. The man turned out to be the leather worker, of course, because reality wasn¡¯t actually a pile of cliches. ¡°So, you want light armor, I assume?¡± The man asked after he returned her guild symbol. ¡°Yeah, I need something that won¡¯t get in the way of my dexterity. Not worried so much about speed, I just need full flexibility with the best protection that can give me.¡± Ranthia replied. The man nodded and stroked his bare chin. ¡°Alright. It¡¯ll for the most part be as close as I can safely get to the style of armor that the Rangers and Sentinels use, without causing you problems of course. Except no worthless laminar vests here. Any other odd requirements?¡± ¡°I have a pouch of arcanite here that I¡¯d love to get integrated into the¡­ where would you recommend? The chest?¡± ¡°Bracers. You don¡¯t want any compromise on your chest or stomach protection, bracers can be thickened without restricting you. Less likely to get torn apart too.¡± The man replied immediately, without even taking a moment to consider. ¡°Sounds great, I¡¯ll trust your judgment. Oh, also, I have a vest with arcanite woven into it. I¡¯d like to be able to wear it under my armor, would that be possible?¡± ¡°Yeah, I can adjust the chest a bit to accommodate that. Let¡¯s get measurements, and you¡¯ll need to show me that vest.¡± Her armor was successfully ordered, though it would be another eight days or so until it was ready. She had, for the record, been completely wrong about her lovely outfit costing as much as custom armor. She had sorely underestimated just how expensive good custom work could be. Still, she could practically hear Tatius lecturing her from the depths of Samsara¡ªgods and goddesses, would she ever be able to do anything connected to Adventuring without remembering the men and having to fight against sudden tears?¡ªwhen she was tempted to skimp on her personal protection. She was a grown woman and was now a solo Adventurer, at least until she felt whole enough to even consider joining another party. She needed real armor; cutesy leather blankets wouldn¡¯t cut it anymore. Ranthia had a ton of tasks on her to-do list. She wanted to experiment with [Shards of Reflection], she wanted to train (and maybe practice some of her new ideas), she wanted to visit the grand temple properly to pray, she wanted to explore Ariminum further, she wanted to see if there were any temples in town dedicated exclusively to Xaoc, she needed to start taking jobs that actually paid in coin before she wore out what the men had left her, she had to visit the site of their final battle, and numerous other lesser tasks. Instead, Ranthia realized it was nearly lunch time and decided to surprise her girlfriend with food. Not only was there a stall selling nature¡¯s most perfect food¡ªrabbit stew¡ªbut the owner actually let her take a couple of big bowls with her. She had promised to return the wooden bowls after lunch and the stall owner said his wife loved that shop, which somehow increased his willingness to trust Ranthia. Best food stall ever! ¡°Hi, is Hexara in? I thought I¡¯d surprise her with lunch.¡± Ranthia announced as she carefully entered the shop, carrying the two dangerously full wooden bowls. She was grateful that dexterity was her best stat, over a thousand points in it helped her avoid spilling a single drop from either steaming bowl. ¡°Oh, you have great timing, she just finished up with her last client and was cleaning up before she ate, let me get her for you!¡± The counter girl replied. It only took a few moments for a very surprised Hexara to arrive. ¡°Oh, Ranthia! What¡¯s all this? You¡¯re sweet, but we usually just buy from nearby stalls and eat in the staff lounge, and¡­¡± ¡°Oh, come off it, half the staff lets their husbands join them for lunch sometimes and Albina still shows up to hang out with us old timers over lunch every now and then. Just last week she brought her oldest kid with her too! Come on, you¡¯ve been bragging about your new girl all morning, there¡¯s no need to be shy.¡± A different woman chastised Hexara before she winked at Ranthia and led them back to the staff lounge. Which was basically just a fancy name for a small room where they had¡ªjust barely¡ªmanaged to cram a table into each corner. Hexara was a bit reserved at first, but the other two ladies that shared the table with them started to¡ªloudly and pointedly¡ªdiscuss their own romantic partners, so Hexara finally relaxed and chatted with Ranthia while they ate. Also, she actually liked rabbit stew, which clearly meant that their relationship was meant to be. ¡°So yeah, [Sexy] is actually a class skill for me now, when I got [Sexy Stylist] it got absorbed. My poor general [Beautician] class almost never gets any levels, but I love the work that I do here. I¡¯ll never be able to thank you enough for giving me the push to try for my old dream again.¡± Hexara boasted. ¡°Wait, she¡¯s the kid you mentioned? You never mentioned how hot she was.¡± One of the coworkers butted in before Ranthia could reply. ¡°She was a kid back then! She only got hot when she got out of my sight!¡± Hexara protested with the sexiest little blush coloring her cheeks. ¡°Oh? I¡¯d like to hear more about how hot I got.¡± Ranthia teased, feeling bold. Especially since [Sexy] actually leveled just from her girlfriend bragging about her. [*ding!* [Sexy] has reached level 88!] ¡°Well, I mean I usually flirt with any customer that isn¡¯t put off by it. It¡¯s a good sales tactic.¡± This had the entire table nodding. ¡°But! I don¡¯t usually get into it, even when someone flirts back. It¡¯s just business. But when you hit me with that smile and that little sultry purring moan and told me I was [Sexy] too, I swear I was worried that I¡¯d¡­ Oh goddess, what am I even saying?!¡± Hexara suddenly gasped after she trailed off, her blush deepening. The other women laughed, Ranthia rewarded Hexara with a quick kiss before she turned back to her bowl of stew. ¡°So, what¡¯s next for you?¡± Hexara finally asked while she over-aggressively dipped a crust of bread into her stew in a desperate bid to master her own embarrassment. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m still not sure. I feel like I have so much to do. Trying to settle into place feels kind of overwhelming with a city this big.¡± Ranthia admitted. ¡°Then take a day to yourself. I¡¯ll be working late and will be beat by the time that I get home, so you¡¯ll be on your own tonight.¡± Hexara suggested. ¡°Well, if I get too lonely, I¡¯ll be thinking of you, even if I can¡¯t get that promise for our second date from you today.¡± Ranthia flirted shamelessly. Hexara went absolutely scarlet, which was all the explanation that her coworkers required. ¡°Oh, you two are adorable! I thought my husband and I were bad, but I could watch the two of you all day.¡± The first woman teased. ¡°They might not want anyone to watch their ¡®second date¡¯ though.¡± The other coworker piled on. ¡°Don¡¯t be too mean to Hexy, she¡¯s heavily booked today, and we don¡¯t want to break her.¡± One of the women at another table chided with a grin. Hexara just redoubled her efforts on her food while muttering something about lunch coming to an end. A few other women drifted in and out as sessions ended or came up, so it wasn¡¯t like every employee was in the room at the same time.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. After they finished eating, Hexara offered Ranthia a quick kiss¡ªwhich she allowed to linger at her coworkers¡¯ insistence¡ªand smiled. Ranthia grabbed her and dipped her for a far more passionate smooch¡ªto applause¡ªbefore she collected the bowls and let Hexara flee back to work. With her heart far more fulfilled and far less sad, Ranthia was ready to face her day. Ranthia decided that she wasn¡¯t surprised, not truly. When she had returned to the Owl¡¯s Sanctum and asked if there was space that she could train she hadn¡¯t expected much, but when one of the staff led her into a large area where they had ¡®fitness trainers¡¯ available and gave her access to a private¡ªlockable!¡ªroom just off it, she just¡­ couldn¡¯t be surprised. The place was ridiculous. Someday, maybe, she¡¯d get used to it. Ranthia decided that she needed to spend more time experimenting with her class abilities before she did much else. Training her body was calling to her too, but she needed to know exactly what she was capable of before she tried to change anything about her own style. ¡­Plus, she had half of Hexara¡¯s bowl of stew too, when her girlfriend (mmm, her girlfriend) got full. Her stomach¡¯s vote for something less physical pushed her over the edge. Ranthia knew from experience¡ªnot that she had tried often¡ªthat creating or modifying a mental image still took her a significant portion of a day spent meditating while she visualized. Ideally, she still needed good light and a mirror too, even if she intended to only modify from an existing image stored in [Image Recall]. She also needed to be able to focus all of her attention on the task and even relatively minor or brief distractions seemed to wholly ruin her result. She strongly suspected that [Image Recall] had some, possibly minor, effect that helped clean up mistakes that she made. The images that she stored in it seemed to more-or-less reliably be viable, while images that she used without storing them felt like a coin toss on viability. While she sorely wished that she could make an image faster, nothing that she had ever tried seemed to give her any faster results, at least not without ruining the end product. Modifying an image that was stored in [Image Recall] came far more easily. It still took time and access to mirrors, but it took less time and left her mind far less worn out than when she worked from scratch. But until she got a third slot in [Image Recall] she couldn¡¯t experiment with [Distorted Likeness] much, though she updated her ¡®default¡¯ image a few times while she practiced. It wasn¡¯t like she still had her leather cloak anyway, so it needed to be updated. Instead, she experimented with her mirror images with objects once again, which took forever due to the mana costs and need to channel. First, she confirmed what she already knew. She¡¯d proven¡ªand expected¡ªback when she earned her new home that wearing the tattered remnants of her old leather cloak and shifting into her stored image of herself with it intact did not repair the armor. Instead, the mirror image¡¯s cloak suddenly transformed into the tattered version the instant she shifted into it. Tragic, but completely unsurprising. She was lucky enough that she got free healing out of¡ªwait, hadn¡¯t she meant to visit a Dark [Healer] the other day? She vowed to do that tomorrow, she was busy! Similarly, if she set down her knife and then shifted into an image that had it on-hand, the knife would vanish. Her mirror image shifting couldn¡¯t be used to quickly dress herself (yes if she held a tunic and shifted into an image of her wearing the same¡ªor a similar enough¡ªtunic she was suddenly wearing it, up until she shifted back to her naked true body that was still holding the tunic) or retrieve a thrown weapon or anything like that. That was a real shame; it would have been handy if she could take her upcoming armor off while she slept then just shift into it without needing to get all the straps done properly. It also meant that she couldn¡¯t start throwing her knives without disarming herself¡ªnot that she had any skills for that anyway. Less intuitive was how her pouches and other containers worked. If she took a potion out of a pouch and resealed it then shifted, the potion would of course be gone when she reached into the pouch. Weirder was the fact that she couldn¡¯t just put the potion into her pouch then shift into a mirror image of her holding the potion. Well, she could, but the potion disappeared from her hand, though it was still inside the pouch. Even more confusing, it wasn¡¯t like she had to update her mental image stored in [Image Recall] every time she added anything to her pouches. The contents were just the same. Ranthia wanted to rip all of her hair out when she realized she could use a mental image with her knives in her hand and when she shifted, they would be in her hands instead of their sheaths. What was the difference?! It was late in the night when she finally figured it out, at which point she felt very silly and dumb. The difference was that her knives were always visible, at least partially. And partial visibility was all that mattered when it came to whether her image needed¡ªor could¡ªreference the object. This was proven easily enough once she experimented with her cloth bandages. In a pouch, fine. Out of a pouch and visible, it wouldn¡¯t go with her. She could still control poses freely¡ªgods it would have sucked if she needed a separate image for every pose¡ªso she was able to confirm that if she hid a bandage inside her hands, without any of it peeking out, she could carry it. That, at least, had some potential. Not that she had any idea what to do with that, but it was worth bearing in mind. Still all of this meant that any time she added or changed a pouch on her belt she¡¯d have to update her image, or it¡¯d just be absent when she tried to shift to another body. It was a hassle, but at least she learned before it became a problem on the field. And, all in all, it was good practice. [*ding!* [Distorted Likeness] has leveled from 6 to level 10!] [*ding!* [Image Recall] has leveled from 38 to level 41!] ¡°Hello?¡± Ranthia called out as she entered the [Healer]¡¯s building bright and early the next morning. ¡­Except, strangely, there was no one at the counter. Ranthia looked around and called out a bit louder, wondering if she had somehow stopped by too early or something. A man clearly heard her and came hurriedly down the hallway. ¡°My apologies! My apprentices were all needed, uh, for a thing with the town guard. I hadn¡¯t actually intended to leave the door unlocked. I do have a meeting with some important people soon, but is there something I can help you with quickly?¡± The man asked. ¡°Oh, I uh, got bitten by a¡­ few big rats the other day. I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m fine, but I wanted to get a Dark [Healer] to make sure there were no diseases in me.¡± Ranthia finally managed, once she got past being caught so off-guard. ¡°Ha, well, as much as I hate to cost myself a sale, you actually walked through one of my Pyronox gates coming in the door. An unfortunate safety measure needed these days. Let¡¯s see¡­ doesn¡¯t look like there were any jumps in the mana consumption from it, so I¡¯d say you were already clean. Did you need me to look at the bite wounds themselves to see if I can do anything to help them heal?¡± Ranthia froze, she actually hadn¡¯t even thought of the fact that she didn¡¯t actually have the wounds. ¡°Ah, uh, no that won¡¯t be necessary.¡± The man raised an eyebrow. ¡°They, uh¡­ I have a [Warrior] class for my second? I heal fast?¡± Ranthia lamely offered. ¡°A lucky woman! Well, if you ever need any other services, I am Markus and I or my apprentices would be happy to help. So please, come see us again! I swear we¡¯re usually less sloppy, today has just been a day of very sudden changes. Here, I¡¯ll show you out, unfortunately I do need to get ready for my own meeting.¡± He walked her out through the large¡ªand oddly familiar, but it wasn¡¯t like she expected he was the only Pyronox [Healer] in Remus¡ªgateway of black flame that she had managed to completely miss when she arrived. She had attributed the darkness to how bright it was outside versus how dark the healer kept his business. The man truly seemed to love his black color schemes. Ranthia shrugged off the weirdness about the guard needing multiple healers and went about her day. She was just kind of pleasantly surprised that the [Healer] hadn¡¯t demanded any coin, even if she hadn¡¯t needed healing and was only inadvertently treated. Ranthia was terribly tempted to visit Hexara for lunch again, but she didn¡¯t want to come across as pushy or needy. Hexara certainly hadn¡¯t invited her to stop by for lunch again, which was what really cinched the decision to not show up. Instead, Ranthia visited the grand temple again. A short query from someone that worked in the temple later, and Ranthia found herself knelt in front of the¡ªwell, grand¡ªaltar to Xaoc. There were even other men and women in prayer around the altar too, which pleased her greatly. Ranthia knew that she was far from the only person that prayed to Xaoc¡ªhe was one of the five great gods, after all¡ªbut she rarely encountered other people at his altar at the same time. Especially since she tended to visit temples outside of peak hours. Hey Xaoc, I hope you aren¡¯t too busy. I¡¯m still trying to get settled into Ariminum, but I swear I¡¯ll find a chance to cause some nice chaos soon. ¡­I¡¯m actually kind of feeling guilty about how little I¡¯ve accomplished since I came here, but I believe you¡¯d understand. Between¡­ well¡­ Tatius and Pupius and¡ªheh¡ªI guess just everything else? The temple worker mentioned to me that there¡¯s a temple dedicated to you somewhere around the city, so I¡¯ll find that in the future. ¡­Once I have some chaos to report. Just to be clear before I say this, I am not asking for your intercession or anything, but, well¡­ Wish me luck with my new relationship? I think I could have something special with Hexara. She already knows me better than my ex ever did, and we seem to have more in common. And oh my¡ªerm, you¡ªshe is so hot! I¡¯d say she¡¯s out of my league, but I think I¡¯m getting there? I don¡¯t know, that sounds so horribly self-centered when I put it into words. If any of these other prayers are asking for any miracles that would add some nice chaos to the world, please consider granting them a boon? And if you ever need me for anything, please, let me know. I¡¯m always at your service. Xaoc¡¯s response felt like a pat on the head once she concluded her prayer. Ranthia blushed slightly, not even slightly sure at how to take her deity¡¯s little sign of affection, before she stood up. Her next stop was her vault¡ªwhich she reached without incident¡ªso she could retrieve a couple of mementos of the men to keep in her room. She lingered for a while with every item¡ªboth mundane and important¡ªuntil she finally dried her tears and settled on two. Tatius¡¯ dinosaur bone necklace and Pupius¡¯ crime against dolls. They were items that she could look upon each and every day while she remembered the men. And maybe, just maybe, eventually it would hurt her less to be reminded. Ranthia visited her room to set up the mementos. The necklace was hung near the door¡ªTatius reminding her to check her gear one last time before she left¡ªwhile Pupius¡¯ doll was placed on the desk. Once she finished fiddling with the objects¡ªas if there was a real difference between any of the last eight adjustments she made to the doll¡¯s position¡ªshe changed into one of the cheap men¡¯s tunics that she had brought with her to Ariminum and set off to get access to the training area again. Ranthia felt a strange blend of excitement and nervousness once she was isolated in the private room once again. It was technically a different room this time since her last was occupied by a guided meditation group, though it was basically identical. She had been inspired. She wanted to experiment. She had precious little experience dancing. Pupius had taught her a bit ahead of the festival with her ex, but he had focused on teaching her to cheat. She had enough dexterity to come off as graceful and intentional, even when she was just desperately copying what everyone else was doing. Ranthia practically salivated at the idea of incorporating a majestic dance¡ªlike that pale woman¡¯s¡ªinto her combat style, but that was several steps down the road. First, she needed to dance. ¡­Ranthia stood there, awkwardly, for many long moments. As if she was expecting the dance to just happen to her, as opposed to something she instigated. ¡°Ugh, I¡¯m being ridiculous. No one¡¯s here. No one¡¯s judging me,¡± her eyes flicked upward, as if to ensure Xaoc wasn¡¯t peeking, ¡°I need to just go for it. Recreate what that woman did. Easy.¡± She finally chided herself. Throughout history there were people naturally gifted with the arts. [Artisans] who created skilled works on their first attempts. [Bards] that strummed catchy tunes on their instruments. [Storytellers] who crafted an engaging tale on their first attempt. Ranthia was not part of that elite minority. She, like most people, was embarrassed by her initial efforts. Even with her dexterity, she felt clumsy as she attempted a dance that was far more complicated than it had seemed when she was a mere audience to it. But like artists since the dawn of Creation, Ranthia improved. Steadily, bit by bit, she found errors and overcame them. Morning turned to noon, and she accomplished the dance without crashing to the floor or colliding with a wall. That was better than her first several attempts. Noon turned to evening¡ªher appetite went unnoticed while she focused¡ªand she finally realized that many of her difficulties stemmed from her footing. She was using her entire foot, but¡­ well, unfortunately she hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the dancer¡¯s feet. She still had a bit of a complex about feet¡ªthey were just so weird¡ªleft over from when she had first started struggling with image training. But she was pretty sure that the dancer had been using either the balls of her feet or the heel, as opposed to her whole foot. If only Ranthia had noted which it was, but instead she needed to experiment. A short time later, Ranthia was mid-movement when her sandal¡¯s straps suddenly snapped. Dexterity was her best stat, but that didn¡¯t do much to help when the sole support for her weight was suddenly no longer there. She went down loudly; she went down hard. And her chin happened to find the bottom of the wall. All things considered, that seemed like a solid point to call it a night. Ranthia removed her ruined sandals¡ªat least sandals were cheap¡ªand made her way outside to seek food that she could carry back to her room. Her jaw hurt, it was late, and she was only grudgingly acknowledging the fact that she hadn¡¯t eaten since that morning before she dropped by the nameless Pyronox [Healer]¡¯s shop. She was a long way away from her dream of incorporating dancing into her knife work. But she still wasn¡¯t deterred. Book 1 - Chapter 25 - Personal Enrichment Ranthia¡¯s plan for the day was to visit the Adventurer¡¯s Guild to finally figure out what she needed to do about her team registration now that it was just¡­ her. It was a plan that summoned tears when she realized that she needed to get it done. But it had to be done. She had seen in the mirror that she had a nasty bruise across her chin, dark and ugly. She had suffered worse though, and really, she only barely felt it. She was still conscious of the stares she got from the employees and other tenants of the Owl¡¯s Sanctum while she made her exit after she got dressed. Then while she was in line at a food stall nearby that was selling bowls of scrambled egg with cheese and spicy sausage, a member of the city guard approached her and ushered her out of line. Warily, she followed the man somewhere out of the way. ¡°Ma¡¯am, apologies, but I needed to check: did your husband do this to you?¡± The guardsman asked. It took a surprising amount of willpower to clamp down on her urge to laugh. ¡°No, I¡¯m not married. I¡¯m an Adventurer and¡ª¡± In the span of a moment the guard¡¯s face turned from concerned to a derisive scowl. ¡°Guilded or not, you can¡¯t be starting fights.¡± The man seemed to be working himself up to a full-blown rant. What on Pallos was with guards and their absurd conclusions?! ¡°Good to know Ariminum¡¯s finest protectors train so gently they never bruise.¡± Ranthia snapped icily before she stormed off. The man had the sense to not pursue her, at least. Grudgingly, Ranthia passed the stand with the heavenly smelling food and changed course for the day. It was clear that she needed some cosmetics if she was going to get through the day without cutting someone. ¡°Oh my goddess, what happened to you?! I know you did dangerous work, but that looks so painful!¡± Hexara gasped as soon as she arrived in the lobby to greet her client. Ranthia groused. ¡°It was a training accident and it¡¯s not that bad, but I need it concealed so people stop giving me a hard time over it.¡± Ranthia explained. The young woman at the counter was doing her best to look like she wasn¡¯t paying attention, but the bemused grin on her face spoke volumes. ¡°A training accident¡­ right¡­¡± Hexara repeated in a plainly unconvinced tone while she beckoned Ranthia to follow her back. Ranthia just quietly followed her girlfriend until she was sat in Hexara¡¯s chair, just the two of them in the small room. ¡°You sure it won¡¯t hurt you too much when I put the cosmetics on you?¡± Hexara asked concernedly. ¡°Babe, do I need to pin you against the wall and make out with you for a while to convince you I¡¯m not badly hurt?¡± Ranthia retorted in a playful tone. ¡°Yes. Oh! Er, I mean no! I¡¯ve got another customer that should be arriving soon and¡­!¡± Ranthia reveled in her girlfriend¡¯s flustered expression and reaction before she sighed and leaned back in the chair. As much as she wanted to push her luck, she didn¡¯t want to get Hexara in trouble. The job seemed to be very important to her girlfriend, given how proud she had sounded when she talked about getting it. Hexara composed herself and carefully prepped the necessary cosmetics. ¡°As much as I enjoy the extra business and more opportunities to see you, I really need to work on teaching you to apply your own cosmetics.¡± The woman noted while she began to work on Ranthia. ¡°Oh my, are you inviting me to your home for some private one-on-one time?¡± Ranthia teased. ¡°You¡­! Just keep your [Sexy] lips shut and hold still.¡± Hexara chided with a light blush while she worked. It required a thicker layer of makeup than Ranthia preferred, but the bruise was concealed to the point that it was hard to discern even when she looked for it. Even better, the cosmetics had been applied swiftly, between Hexara¡¯s experienced hand and her Skills. And, of course, the best bit was yet another Skill level. [*ding!* [Sexy] has reached level 84!] The skill was clearly just as obsessed with Hexara as Ranthia was. Ranthia was impatient to resume flirting though. ¡°As amazing a job as ever! I can¡¯t wait to find out what else your fingers can do when I finally get that promised second date.¡± Ranthia rewarded her girlfriend with a quick, careful kiss. Hexara might literally murder her if she ruined her makeup immediately. ¡°Girl, you are trouble!¡± Hexara barely managed to get the words out before she expelled her embarrassment with a laugh. Ranthia just waited patiently, with a smile on her face. Which was a small miracle, given that on the inside she was a complete knot of nerves as she worried about whether she was being too pushy or if Hexara was still interested or¡­ ¡°Well, my next day off is in four days¡­¡± Hexara offered, with a smile. YES! ¡°How about this, in three days I¡¯ll stop by your place just after sunset with food and wine, that way we have a bit more time together?¡± Ranthia countered, mostly failing in her effort to keep a silly grin off her face. Hexara considered the offer for a moment, before she smiled¡ªwidely!¡ª and nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a date!¡± Ranthia left the salon in a great mood. She was forced to cling, desperately, to that high while she dealt with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. The task was depressing enough, codifying the deaths of Tatius and Pupius and reducing her Adventurer status from a team to an individual. But what proved to be worse was her own confidence. When she was offered the opportunity to update the scroll herself, she took it. Sure, she needed to ask about some of the words on it. Yes, she had to guess at how to write a few things that she needed to. But she could read and write! Sardonia¡¯s Guildmaster had taught her well, even if they hadn¡¯t met as often or as long as he would have preferred. ¡°B-Ranked Adventurer Ranthia, please consider attending the reading and writing lessons that I and the other clerks offer to our Adventurers every other day at antemeridianum tempus.¡± The clerk had said, shortly after he began to review her scrollwork. Ranthia was still fuming about it when she left. They hadn¡¯t insisted she attend or anything, just¡­ emphatically encouraged it. She wasn¡¯t even expected to attend every lesson, just those she could work into her schedule. As if she didn¡¯t have better things to do with her amorphous pre-lunch period of her day! Realistically, she knew she was being ridiculous and that she shouldn¡¯t have developed quite so much pride in her ability to read and write. She knew, deep down, that she still struggled sometimes with it. [Fast Learner] appreciated the tedium, but Ranthia still hated just sitting still and learning. She preferred to be in motion. Still, she was cranky. Which meant she needed to do something fun. And, well, she had wanted to get some additional income going¡­ Realistically, there were Adventurer jobs she could take without any functional armor. In-city investigations, the inevitable pile of chores that somehow ended up on job boards, and even certain mundane security detail jobs that called for less obvious muscle. In practice, Ranthia wasn¡¯t about to take a job without her armor. Danger liked to crop up without warning, after all. This left her with a final option, one that she hadn¡¯t indulged in since the last time she and Pupius had snuck out after Tatius had settled down for the night. Gambling! Gambling in Remus often took one of two forms. The first were the games of skill, which were fun to watch but terrible for actual gambling since usually whoever was at the highest level with a relevant class won every single time. [Divine-Touched Identify] gave Ranthia an incredible edge for that sort, but she personally lacked any classes that gave her much of an edge in any of the skill-based games that were popular. And passively gambling on the feats of others was wildly disinteresting for her.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. The second were games of chance. Games where Skills shouldn¡¯t directly intervene on the odds of success, like dice or animal fights. And yes, the operative word there was ¡®shouldn¡¯t¡¯. Skills designed to cheat at games of chance¡ªin addition to more mundane efforts¡ªweren¡¯t exactly uncommon, but that was just knowing how to pick your table. A knife placed on a table¡ªor in enough of a dive, impaled into the table¡ªwas a threat that cheaters that got caught would be attacked. Of course, that led to the commonplace issue where cheaters would put their own knife on the table and sit with their friends to scam unwitting victims, but Pupius had taught her a simple way to combat that problem. Ranthia strolled into a decently seedy tavern and, after perusing her options, found the table that she intended to join. It was a bit of a wait until one of the men got up from the table in a huff, but she slipped into the abandoned chair and set her own knives on the table. Typically, only the one who owned the dice bothered, but there was no rule that prevented those who joined from piling on the threat. One of the men, the only one that had a level less than a hundred, looked hard at her before he paled slightly and quickly got up. The other two laughed, and the coward was soon replaced by another. Tali was Ranthia¡¯s favorite game. Each player had four long four-sided bone dice with 1, 4, 5, and 8 on each face. There were only four possible rolls that mattered: All 1¡¯s, a dog, was the worst roll that required the player to add four times the table minimum (6 coins, for this game, thus 24) to the pot; all 4¡¯s (the crow) or all 8¡¯s (the dove) required the player to add two times the table minimum (here, 12) coins to the pot; a single 5 with at least two other dice showing the same face (the gods¡¯ eye) required the player to add the table minimum (6) coins to the pot; and when someone(s) inevitably rolled the Guardian (a 1, 4, 5, and 8) they got the pot. Any other roll had no effect. The table also added the rule, if two or more received the pot, they had to duel¡ªadding to the pot¡ªuntil one of them took it. Tatius had been the one to teach Ranthia to play, not that he approved of her gambling, he had intended it just as a way to pass time when they were together. Pupius taught her how to spot cheaters (and, yes, several different ways to cheat). Sometimes she swore she could almost hear the men once the game got underway. The pot built up rapidly, but Ranthia became increasingly certain with every hand that the dealer was cheating. The question was how. She needed to figure out his trick before she could confront him, else she¡¯d look like a fool to those uninvolved. Every throw of the dice, he moved his hand oddly while he threw them¡ªonly for a single instant¡ªand the man got the god¡¯s eye almost every single time. [Laborer ¨C Wood] level 113 and [Laborer ¨C Earth] level 63 weren¡¯t exactly classes or elements that screamed cheating (it wasn¡¯t like he had Gravity, Mirage, Wind, or Gale) and he wasn¡¯t a [Mage] which meant it was fairly unlikely that he could directly manipulate the dice or the table¡ªthough Ranthia had no idea if Earth could manipulate bone either way. The minor loss almost every single time was the most damning thing about it, in Ranthia¡¯s eyes. As Pupius had once put it: A stupid cheater won every single hand and ended up knifed over a paltry sum. A slightly more intelligent¡ªthough still stupid¡ªcheater had rolls that resulted in nothing until they won big, at which point they got knifed. A smart cheater had minorly bad luck consistently until their luck suddenly changed for a big pay-out. It drove Ranthia nuts¡ªespecially because she just knew Pupius would have caught on to the man¡¯s methods by then¡ªbut finally after a few more rounds Ranthia figured out the man¡¯s trick. The dice weren¡¯t properly balanced, each finger length die had more weight on the 1 face¡ªthe side opposite to the 5. The odd hand movement was because he was letting three of the four dice leave his hand then flicked the final up a bit, to make the odds of getting at least one 5 all but certain. Honestly, she really should have noticed sooner! It wasn¡¯t even that clever of a trick. Ranthia briefly considered confronting the man¡ªthere was only two people in the tavern that out-leveled her, and one of them was just an [Artisan] that was already incredibly drunk complaining to the bartender about some sort of art project that wasn¡¯t going well and his displeased patron. She was reasonably certain that even if it became a brawl, she¡¯d be safe enough. ¡­At least until the guards came. The thought immediately cooled her eagerness for a fight. Grudgingly, Ranthia decided to play it out instead. After all, the cheat was simple enough with just a bit of dexterity. And she had far more than a bit of dexterity. Which meant she had everything she needed to negate the trick. Ranthia began to flick her dice forward, while she put on airs about being excited about how large the pot had gotten. Yes, she could earn more from a good B-ranked job, but it wasn¡¯t like anyone else at her table was an Adventurer. The sum was a small fortune to most people in Remus. The dice were painted for each player, so there was no risk that her green would get mistaken for the dealer¡¯s black. Not even when she sniped the black die¡ªthe one that the man flicked upward¡ªout of the air every single hand. The man was visibly frustrated but couldn¡¯t do much complaining since the dice still all landed on the table¡ªshe was careful to not use too much force after all. The game continued while he tried every tactic that he could to protect his precious rigged toss, but the game required them to all throw at more-or-less the same time. If he delayed until her dice were on the table, it would have made him look suspect. Honestly, it was kind of fun. The man was infuriated but he couldn¡¯t do anything about it. No matter what he did, Ranthia countered it effortlessly. And he couldn¡¯t even confront her, since all she was doing was erasing his own efforts to cheat! Pupius would have loved it. Not that it was even remotely the right opportunity to let herself get emotional. And then, by absolute fluke, Ranthia and the dealer each got a Guardian on the same hand. One of the men cursed and left the table, but a small crowd had gathered to watch what would happen. ¡°Looks like it¡¯s a duel then, shall we?¡± Ranthia asked smugly, while she flicked her middle finger lightly within plain view of the man. Then she looked meaningfully down at her knives on the table. It was meant as a challenge, to show him that she already knew his trick. Or maybe she was hoping he¡¯d go for a more literal duel. If he started it, she was much more confident about her ability to get away with sending him to a [Healer] (or a funeral pyre, whichever way the odds fell). The man eyed her and glanced at his own knife, weighing his odds. It was a fair bet that he didn¡¯t have [Identify], most people that never left the city seemed to avoid taking it or any skill like it. Ranthia always felt like it was beyond reckless to remain ignorant about how powerful any given individual that you pissed off might be, but stable societies tended to make people ignorant about dangers. They put their trust in guards and walls and acted as if they were untouchable. Up until they did something stupid like trying to attack an Adventurer that significantly out leveled them, just because she seemed young. (Un?)fortunately, the man found some measure of sense. ¡°We¡¯ll see who the gods of fate and chaos favor.¡± He grumbled. Ranthia successfully kept herself from laughing, and they began to play. Both threw fairly, with enough forward momentum to offset the minor weight on the dice. Ranthia got a dog while he got nothing, the pot grew. Both got nothing. Crow and dove each, the pot grew a bit more. Nothing. Nothing. Ranthia got the gods¡¯ eye, and the pot grew a tiny bit larger. Ranthia was mostly certain that she¡¯d gracefully accept things if he won, but with Xaoc invoked¡­ ¡­She wasn¡¯t even slightly surprised when she won. Ranthia whooped and snatched up the wooden bowl the instant the outcome was solidified. A few people offered congratulations, and the crowd waited to see how generous the winner would be. The dealer glared, but wisely chose to pack up his dice and make his exit. Ranthia was not stupidly generous¡ªbuying a round for the crowd would have eaten almost her entire profit, after all¡ªand instead waited for another game to start up. She didn¡¯t have to wait long. She really should have quit while she was ahead. Ranthia lost the next two games, then won a tiny pot (whoo, 3 coins). Admittedly, it reminded her of the time Pupius had excitedly pulled a winning hand on the very first round¡­ only to realize that no one had thrown a hand that required them to add to the pot. He won nothing, and Ranthia enthusiastically mocked him for days. The memory brought a smile to her face and tears to her eyes. She decided that marked a great time to depart the tavern, even with only a very small profit. It had been fun, and she hadn¡¯t actually lost money, at least. But it had gotten late, and she needed an opportunity to be emotional until she was finally impatient enough to try her dance practice again (without sandals on her feet!). The next morning, Ranthia enjoyed the breakfast she had been denied the previous morning, before she hit the baths. After that was shopping for some more of the cheap men¡¯s tunics she favored, then after she dropped off her purchases, she¡ªoh so grudgingly¡ªattended one of the reading and writing training groups. [*ding!* [Fast Learner] has reached level 84!] Oh, just what she wanted. Incentive. Ugh! Ranthia was nervous about her pending date and still kind of avoiding life. Had she actually been honest with herself, she would have acknowledged the fact that she was using the wait for her armor to put off¡­ well, pretty much everything. She had even decided to avoid trying to find opportunities for chaos until she had her armor, not that one had anything to do with the other unless things went profoundly wrong. Instead, Ranthia threw herself into training as a distraction. She trained [Image Recall] by day and her dance moves or knife combat by night, occasionally mixing it up with using her mirror images. The levels came slowly, but she made headway. Ranthia had promised food and wine, but she actually had no idea what sort of wine Hexara favored. Ranthia was well aware that the wine she preferred tended to be considered low quality and undesirable by most, since she preferred the least sweet reds that she could find. The season provided a good solution though. Ranthia bought two jugs, one with a popular sweet red, the other a cheap watery wine meant to be seasoned and mulled over a fire or stove. It wasn¡¯t exactly cold, but winter was setting in and that provided a great excuse, plus it felt like every eighth stall was selling pouches of seasonings meant for mulled wine. Beyond that Ranthia loaded up the basket she had bought with a few loaves of bread and other foods that would keep for a couple of days and didn¡¯t need to be cooked until, at last, the sun was setting, and she was ready to head over to Hexara¡¯s place. Ranthia was nervous, but excited. Hexara probably was too, since she answered mere moments after Ranthia knocked at her door. ¡°Hey. ¡­What¡¯s all this?!¡± Hexara was immediately distracted by the basket filled with snacks and food. ¡°Well, you mentioned that you had only a very small wood burning stove, so I wanted to bring easy food we could share while I was over. No cooking or leaving the house required.¡± Ranthia answered, suddenly shy. Hexara¡¯s face reddened a little at the implication, but she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the taller, younger woman. Ranthia transferred the basket to a single hand, then wrapped her newly freed arm around her girlfriend. The two kissed. And they continued to kiss, with escalating passions, until they backed into Hexara¡¯s home and slammed the door shut behind them. Book 1 - Chapter 26 - Those Left Behind Ranthia left Hexara¡¯s home bright and early two mornings later, practically shoved out the door by her girlfriend who was scrambling to make it to work before she was late. Ranthia just laughed and snared Hexara for a final kiss. ¡°You¡¯ve got time!¡± Ranthia reassured her. ¡°Not all of us are as fast as you are.¡± Hexara mock-grumbled. ¡°I could carry you there, if you want.¡± Ranthia offered with a salacious smile. ¡°¡­I do, but no! My coworkers would never let me live it down.¡± The woman refused, even as she adjusted her hair with her own Skills, trying to tame her still-wild curls. Ranthia shrugged, then offered her girlfriend a second final hug, kiss, and a teasing bit of wandering hands before Hexara laughingly swatted at her and made her escape. Ranthia watched the woman go and enjoyed the view, before she grudgingly tried to return her thoughts to what she wanted to get done. Or maybe she just stood there daydreaming about her girlfriend for a while. A bath came first. Hexara was willing to slather herself with scented oils and ointments for her workday, but Ranthia had the spare time to indulge in the public baths. Almost every city that Ranthia had ever spent time in had one¡ªor occasionally more¡ªmain markets where most of the shops and stores were located. Ariminum was ridiculous enough that a centralized market would have drawn impossible crowds, no matter how they scaled it up. Instead, almost every street¡ªat least those that weren¡¯t narrow alleys¡ªwas lined with stalls and permanent stores were scattered throughout the city. There was probably, at least at one point, some level of logic about what shops went where, but centuries of development and population surges had pushed logic firmly out back and knifed it to death. Almost anywhere you went in the city, Ariminum was more market than not. And those markets were chaos incarnate. Being spread out made the streets passable, though most stalls had a line and there were crowds everywhere, which sometimes interfered with traffic a bit. Ranthia wasn¡¯t really feeling up to anything serious, so she had just kind of wandered the city half-heartedly shopping throughout the day. Ranthia was, once again, in the middle-good district (and she still wasn¡¯t sharing that identifier with anyone). The district was large, and she hadn¡¯t really gone through this section of it before. There was a fruit¡ªand miscellaneous goods¡ªstand that had a painting of a young girl with a word written under it that either read as ¡®hero¡¯ or ¡®evil¡¯ (not that Ranthia still believed that she needed further reading and writing lessons, even as evidence further accrued). Next to it was a stand that sold various knickknacks and bits of art about some Sentinel named Dawn, not that Ranthia paid it much mind. Next to that was a place that sold the most sauce-laden bamboo skewers of meat¡ªno vegetables¡ªthat Ranthia had ever seen. She had five and zero regrets, not even when the wily shopkeeper sold her a small moist towel at an absurdly marked up price when she realized how filthy her hands and face had gotten. Some men were destined to go far in life. Thieves were just¡­ part of Remus. Ranthia was at a high enough level¡ªand armed enough¡ªthat many of the kids didn¡¯t even try to go after her, though she still had to swat the odd wrist. If she walked around in finer clothes¡ªor her eventual armor¡ªthere was a risk that some of the higher-level thieves might try to target her, at which point she¡¯d really get to test the limits of [Combat Awareness]. But Ranthia currently enjoyed a relative anonymity that just made her an unappealing target. It made the thieves ignorable. Which was why Ranthia was vaguely surprised when she happened to notice the kid that cut through an older woman¡¯s tunic for her hidden purse. He snatched the purse without the woman even noticing, but what drew Ranthia¡¯s attention the most was just how¡­ sad the woman looked. Ranthia accelerated and easily caught the kid. Before he even had time to protest¡ªhe wasn¡¯t even unlocked yet, the kid had taken her purse with pure skill¡ªRanthia had taken the purse from him and shoved a handful of coins into his hands to replace it. ¡°Check your marks more carefully, kid. Take a good look at her. People that are already drowning in misery don¡¯t need more piled on top of it. Look for smug or haughty instead in the future, okay?¡± Ranthia quietly urged him, while he stared dumbly at the coins in his cupped hands. The kid, at length, nodded before he scurried off toward a narrow alley. He cursed every time a coin shook free from his pile¡ªRanthia had probably overdone that a bit¡ªbut had the sense to make his getaway instead of trying to go after a few lost coins. Ranthia watched him go, then steeled herself before she approached the woman. ¡°Hi, ma¡¯am, here¡¯s your purse back.¡± Ranthia politely offered, holding the bag up so that it was plainly visible. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to go through all of that trouble, young lady. I wasn¡¯t going to stop him, but I appreciate¡ª¡± The woman began to say with a hint of a smile. At least until a guardsman rushed up and got into Ranthia¡¯s face, his hand on his club. ¡°I. Saw. That!¡± The man bellowed as he tried to stare down Ranthia. The effect was, perhaps, mildly ruined by the fact that he was almost a full head shorter than the teenager, despite being at least thrice her age. ¡°¡­Good for you?¡± Ranthia replied. She was openly baffled as to what his problem was. She was returning someone¡¯s stolen possession! ¡°You released a proven thief into the population of our city, I¡¯ll see you in chains for this!¡± The man raged. Ranthia¡¯s ire was stoked, and she raised herself up, ready to retort. ¡°And what do you think you¡¯re doing? What¡¯s your name and which guard outpost are you stationed with?¡± The older woman suddenly cut in, stepping around Ranthia while she glared at the man. ¡°Uh, I, what?¡± The guard mumbled, caught completely (¡­) off-guard. ¡°My husband is with the Praetorian Guard and I¡¯m sure he would love to investigate why a guard not only stood by and did nothing while I was robbed, but also saw fit to accost the fine upstanding woman that actually made things right for me.¡± The woman was all glares. ¡°Er, well, that¡¯s¡­ she let the thief go¡­¡± ¡°And is she wearing the uniform of a guard?¡± ¡°No?¡± How was the man uncertain about that?! ¡°Then she should not be expected to do your job for you. Go on, off with you!¡± The woman demanded, with a wave of her hand. The guard hesitated. ¡°If the Ariminum guard expect Adventurers,¡± Ranthia stressed the word as hard as she could, ¡°to haul thieves in, then post a decent bounty¡ªa live bounty¡ªon their apprehension.¡± That finally broke the man, he just turned and walked away¡ªquickly¡ªhaving clearly decided to wash his hands of the matter. ¡°Oh, that was nice. I guess you didn¡¯t need my help after all.¡± The woman announced with a hint of a smile. ¡°Eh, I still appreciate it. I¡¯ve been arrested more than once since I got here, and your intervention helped me cool off.¡± Ranthia replied while she relaxed her posture. ¡°Honestly, it was just a kid! Oh, I¡¯m Julia, by the way.¡± ¡°Ranthia.¡± Ranthia gave her name in response, despite the woman¡¯s name blowing right past her mind and out her other ear ungrasped. ¡°I really should thank you for your little act of heroism though. Oh! I know, you simply must come over for dinner!¡± The woman¡¯s smile grew slightly more earnest and hopeful. ¡°Oh! Um¡­ I¡¯m flattered, and you¡¯re attractive, but I think there¡¯s a bit too much of a gap between our ages for anything like that right now.¡± Ranthia stammered. She had no interest in being the plaything for some spoiled wealthy woman! The woman blinked twice, before she started to laugh, surprisingly uproariously. ¡°Oh, you are bad, I love it! You remind me so much of Artemis,¡± a hint of sadness returned though she laughed right past it, ¡°but no, I actually was offering dinner. And now I simply have to introduce you to my husband too.¡± ¡°Er¡­¡± Ranthia was practically radiating discomfort by that point. ¡°Just dinner, I won¡¯t even get naked to cook.¡± The woman promised with a laugh. ¡°Okay, now you¡¯re just messing with me. Fine, just tell me where to go.¡± Ranthia decided, with a sly smile. ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t, if I let you out of my sight you¡¯ll no-show and hope you don¡¯t run into me again. Come along, I only have a couple of items to buy, then it¡¯s straight home so I can start with dinner.¡± The woman insisted. No good deed went unpunished, it seemed. Ranthia just sighed and agreed to follow the woman. Ranthia found herself seated at an unfamiliar table in an unfamiliar kitchen while she watched the woman bounce about while she cooked. Four places had been set initially, though shortly a fifth had been set for Ranthia. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t need any help?¡± Ranthia offered for the second time. ¡°Quite sure, don¡¯t you dare get in my way. If you need something to tide you over, it¡¯s probably about time to replace the mango in the bowl anyway.¡± The woman¡¯s answer was strange. When she said the first sentence, she pointed a wooden spoon (menacingly?) at Ranthia and seemed to be enjoying herself. But for whatever reason the offer of the mango had the woman in so much misery and pain that it practically flowed out of her. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Ranthia assured her. She was not touching that mango. They weren¡¯t her favorite fruit¡ªtoo sweet¡ªbut it clearly had some sort of meaning that she resolutely refused to pry into. She had boundless curiosity, but curiosity and grief got along about as well as rival tomcats that eyed the same narrow beam of sunlight. Ranthia simply stayed quiet and watched the woman cook until a new voice called out. ¡°I¡¯m home!¡± A masculine voice called out. ¡°We¡¯re in the kitchen!¡± The woman called back. ¡°Hey mom, hey da¡ª¡­ ¡ªYou¡¯re¡­! No, you¡¯re not dad or my sister.¡± The young man¡¯s excitement flared then immediately froze over and his eyes narrowed in suspicion all in the span of about a heartbeat of his arrival in the kitchen, his gaze fixed on Ranthia.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Before Ranthia could snark, the woman spoke up. ¡°She¡¯s a nice young lady that saved me from a thief, I invited her to dinner, so be nice.¡± The young man seemed cowed by the threat implied by the wooden spoon and nodded, before he muttered something about washing up and fled. Something about the young man was familiar, but Ranthia hadn¡¯t had enough time to place it before he retreated. She could be patient though. Another man arrived, this one older, and brushed right past Ranthia without noticing her until he reached the woman and stole a quick kiss from her. He paused after that, frowning. ¡°Bad day?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, it was just when I was healing Olivia, she made a comment about our daughter being gone. Ever since then my mind has been terrible and focused on the fact that it¡¯s been longer than last time now.¡± The woman replied. ¡°She¡¯ll come home; don¡¯t you worry. I have faith in her.¡± The man reassured the woman, followed by another kiss. Ranthia desperately wished she had taken a Spatial class so she could have teleported straight out of the room. She felt like she was spying on something private and meaningful. Something she couldn¡¯t possibly¡ªand didn¡¯t want to¡ªunderstand. ¡°I know, it¡¯s just¡­ Oh, I¡¯m being so terrible; we have a guest my love.¡± The woman suddenly pried herself away from her husband. The man blinked and turned around, spotting Ranthia for the first time. Ranthia just blushed and fought down the sudden¡ªridiculous¡ªimpulse to dive under the table and hide. ¡°Oh! Um, my apologies, I hadn¡¯t seen you there.¡± He quickly gave his wife a look. Ranthia wasn¡¯t exactly familiar with the couple¡¯s private expressions for quiet communication, but what the fuck expressions were fairly universal. ¡°She valiantly saved my new coin purse from a thief.¡± The woman explained, with a note of pride in her voice. The man beamed at Ranthia. ¡°[Mage] at a high level¡­ Ranger?¡± The man guessed. ¡°Adventurer.¡± His wife answered, with a hint of mischief in her voice. A disgusted groan came from the young man just before he entered the room. Immediately Ranthia finally placed his face, assisted by his disdain for her career. ¡°Guardface #7!¡± Ranthia suddenly exclaimed with a grin. ¡°Huh? ¡­Wait, no¡­ You¡¯re that pushy bi¡ª!¡± The man started to retort, only to suddenly yelp in pain. The woman had rushed over and walloped him with her wooden spoon. And Ranthia was judging him more than a little at how much he seemed to suffer from such a trivial hit. ¡°Marcus Themis Catonus, don¡¯t you dare insult a guest under this roof!¡± The woman snapped, with a glare that rivaled those she had given the guard in the market. The young man muttered an apology and, all too soon afterward, the four were sat around the table with freshly cooked food laid out in front of them. Somehow Ranthia had ended up next to the guard guy, while his parents sat across from them side-by-side. It was hard to miss that there was still another plate and place left vacant, on the other side of the younger man. No food was placed there, but the mango in the bowl was next to it. A place meant for someone that wasn¡¯t present. And, if Ranthia had inferred the situation accurately, a place that would go unclaimed until the family finally truly accepted their loss and grieved properly. The meal was modest, but it was still tasty, even if Ranthia was still slightly not ready to eat after her saucy skewer feast. She had enough social sense to know that eating was absolutely the right thing to do in the situation though. ¡°So, an Adventurer? You must have all kinds of stories. How far have you roamed out?¡± The man asked. Right when Ranthia had bitten into a surprisingly chewy bit of meat, naturally. Hurriedly she used a bit more speed and strength to chew through it. ¡°I¡¯ve seen nearly every corner of Remus at this point.¡± Ranthia answered noncommittally. She wasn¡¯t fond of telling stories, especially not when the bulk of them were currently so painful to dwell upon. ¡°She¡¯s new in town. I was on duty when she arrived.¡± Guardboy added. ¡°Oh, you certainly seem to have caught my son¡¯s eye. Hm, you are fairly close in age¡­¡± The woman looked between Ranthia and her son with a calculating expression. ¡°Mom! No! I have a girlfriend!¡± Guardboy loudly objected. ¡°So do I!¡± Ranthia piled on after a moment of indignant sputtering. The woman was plainly pleased with their reactions and mischief sparkled in her eye while she struggled to keep her laughter down. ¡°Tiberia is fine, but our guest is lovely too.¡± The woman added. ¡°¡­Nona. Tiberia and I broke up last week.¡± Guardboy admitted quietly. ¡°And I¡¯m only interested in other women!¡± Ranthia retorted, before she bit into a potato. The woman was going to respond to her son, but she nodded at Ranthia and let the topic drop. The group ate in silence briefly¡ªawkwardly in Ranthia¡¯s case¡ªbefore the man attempted to shift the topic. ¡°Dinner is fabulous as always. This is why I married you, love.¡± His wife smiled at him and the two flirted through facial expressions as they drew closer together until, at last, their son interrupted them. ¡°Please stop embarrassing me so much when we have a guest!¡± Ranthia just watched and ate while the three interacted. So, this was what a family was like, she decided. It was the warmth that she had never gotten to experience in her own lifetime¡ªunless the [Paladin] had fared better¡ªwith everything that had happened. And yet¡­ And yet it was so familiar. Dozens upon dozens of memories of being gathered around the fire with Tatius and Pupius while they teased one another and joked around echoed. Just hold it together, you are not going to break down in front of strangers over something this stupid. Ranthia all but silently screamed at herself. Even as she failed. The three trailed off their familial banter as one by one they noticed the blubbering Adventurer shedding tears openly. Ranthia was too focused on trying to stop them to even be mortified at being caught crying. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s wrong?¡± The woman had stood up and walked around to where Ranthia sat. ¡°S-sorry, I just¡­ I guess I don¡¯t have a lot of experience with family stuff. And stupidly it reminded me of my party, that I recently found out had passed away before I even got here and¡­¡± Ranthia hadn¡¯t meant to say any of that. Then when the woman wrapped her in a hug, she definitely didn¡¯t mean to cling to the woman and sob into her tunic. And yet¡­ ¡°Shh, it¡¯s okay. Tell me about them.¡± The woman¡ªJulia, her name was Julia¡ªgently encouraged. ¡°Tatius and Pupius. They were¡­ Adventurers that took me in when my mother abandoned me when I was a child. They taught me everything they knew while we fought and travelled together. We always liked to just¡­ bicker during down time, a lot like that. But they came here ahead of me and by the time I was ready to travel, I found out they had died on a job that some Sentinel finally resolved. I hadn¡¯t even been here, and I should have. They needed me!¡± Ranthia¡¯s floodgates were opened and she just¡­ let it out. Of course, in reality, she was a bit hard to understand through her utter misery. ¡°You poor dear. I¡¯m so sorry about your fathers.¡± Julia continued to soothe and console her. ¡°Neither of them was my dad! They were just¡­ nice people.¡± Ranthia rebutted. ¡°Oh honey, blood doesn¡¯t make a family. Themis isn¡¯t related to either of us by blood, he was¡­ someone our daughter rescued, that we decided to make part of our family. Family is what you choose, and I¡¯d say those men sound like they definitely qualified.¡± Julia explained with limitless patience. Ranthia just blinked. She pulled her face out of the woman¡¯s sodden tunic and just kind of stared blankly at the son and then the father. She hadn¡¯t even noticed. She hadn¡¯t even questioned it. But¡­ the kid looked even more unlike either of his parents than she had with Tatius. But their bond¡­ Their status as a family was undeniable. Ranthia¡¯s waterworks started up anew, and she didn¡¯t even care. Family¡­ She had never even dared to consider it; she hadn¡¯t had the context to realize it was okay to wonder. Had she truly possessed a family? And yet, she would never be able to ask them if they agreed. It was a common theme in stories spun by bards, where the hero(ine) never knew what they had until it was gone. Ranthia had always considered the notion absurd, it was nonsensical for someone to not know what they had. And yet¡­ In the days since her impromptu dinner with the nice family, Ranthia decided that she was profoundly grateful to them and, simultaneously, hoped that she would never, ever run into any of them again. The lesson that they provided her was invaluable. But her mortification was absolute, at least once she stopped crying. Gods and goddesses, what was wrong with her? She had better self-control than that! Still, she had refocused on thinking about her new girlfriend to lift her spirits and then she had done her test fitting for her armor. And the time had finally arrived. It was time to pick up her new armor. Ranthia stared at her reflection in the mirror as she moved experimentally in the work of art. With apologies to Hexara, Ranthia¡¯s heart had found a second true love. The armor fit her perfectly, which, well, yes, it was literally made for her. But it was incredible! The leather over her torso had no shoulders, so it gave her absolute freedom of movement. The design work on it was subtle, yet exquisite. The straps were easy to manage. It was comfortable, even with her arcanite vest worn beneath it. The skirt gave her freedom of movement that rivaled her men¡¯s tunics, and the studded leather strips that made it up offered protection. The bracers had incorporated her arcanite, with the three largest stones on either side sticking out decoratively, while the rest were beneath the leather. The knee guards were unexpected and Ranthia had been dubious about them when she saw them, but¡­ They worked. The leather offered some protection for her freedom of movement and the leatherworker¡¯s expertise allowed it to do so without impeding her range of motion. They were even comfortable! The armor was darker than the leather of her belt, but she saw no reason to replace it over something so silly. The belt had served her well, and it promised to continue to do so. The contrast actually wasn¡¯t half bad either. ¡°Well, what do you think? You going to say anything or are you going to keep gawking at your own reflection?¡± The armor maker prompted with a frown. Right, he needed to get paid. ¡°I absolutely love it and have zero complaints. Let¡¯s head to the temple and get you your money!¡± Ranthia answered with a dazzling smile. ¡°Now that¡¯s what I like to hear from my customers! Ha! Lead the way, you can wear the armor. It¡¯s good advertising.¡± The gruff man beamed with pride. ¡°So, this is the armor you¡¯ve been looking forward to? It looks great on you!¡± Hexara was all smiles while Ranthia settled into her chair. Of course it was a necessary visit to the salon. It had been several days since Ranthia¡¯s hair was last touched up! It most certainly wasn¡¯t just a thin excuse to see Hexara. Besides, Ranthia was eligible for the lover¡¯s discount, so it wasn¡¯t like she was wasting her money recklessly. ¡°Isn¡¯t it great?¡± Ranthia agreed. ¡°Mmm, yes, but I mostly like how it looks on you.¡± Hexara shamelessly flirted. ¡°Oh, trust me, it looks good on the armor stand I bought too. It¡¯s not all me.¡± Ranthia answered with a playful wink. ¡°I¡¯d ask you to prove it, but I¡¯m at work so I¡¯ll have to watch you take it off some other time.¡± Okay, yes, they had probably gone a bit too far in the busy salon. But taking away her discount was just cruel! It wasn¡¯t like either of them had undressed and they would have gotten away with it had Hexara possessed better self-control. Not that Ranthia had any regrets, not really. She was going to miss Hexara¡¯s next day off, after all. Now that she had her armor, it was time to do something that she was long, long overdue for. The journey took three days, but the directions that she had received from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild were good enough to guide her right where she needed to go. The climb up the rocky slope was the hardest part, even if it wasn¡¯t quite sheer. It wasn¡¯t exactly the most graceful act she had ever performed, but Ranthia had enough dexterity to scramble up. There was no ambiguity about the location, once she reached the right rocky ledge. Ranthia knelt there once she arrived and surveyed the location, her hands placed reverently on the ground. This was it. This was where Tatius and Pupius had fought and died, along with many others. It¡­ really happened, there was no denying the battleground. There were gouges, shattered rocks, scorch marks, and other little signs that marked where classers and powerful beasts clashed. Yet the greatest proof was the tremendous crater where a huge amount of rock had just been¡­ erased. That was the spot where, allegedly, the Sentinel had slain the thing that took the men¡ªher family¡ªaway from her. Even she couldn¡¯t explain the battle damage. She had so much knowledge about the System¡ªperhaps more than anyone else in Remus, it seemed¡ªbut to leave no trace of the beast and inflict such a grievous wound upon Pallos? Gravity would have required a level four digits high. Mountain or Earth might have created the crater at a more manageable level, but then where was the corpse of the beast. It had to be some element she lacked much familiarity with, from either lifetime. Frustratingly, she couldn¡¯t even identify candidates. Her chaotic knowledge from her past life worked in such a way that identifying holes in its knowledge set¡ªbefore she stumbled into them with new experiences¡ªwas impossible. Not that it mattered much to her at the moment. The mystery was acknowledged, but it wasn¡¯t her focus. There were remnants from the battle here and there. Bits of rent leather, shards of bone, and crumpled fragments of metal that were unidentifiable. She had no way of knowing if any of the detritus might have once been part of something all too familiar to her, or even if any of it was. Ranthia ran her eyes over every last bit of evidence of the battle and grieved. Ranthia shed tears over the men. Then, once again, she offered a prayer to Xaoc in honor of Tatius, Pupius, and the other anonymous Adventurers that she had never met¡ªyet had fought and died alongside the most important men she had ever allowed into her life. Ranthia had prayed for her family numerous times, yet every time she saw Xaoc take some of her mana while she made the prayer, she felt a little better. If her god continued to hear and acknowledge her prayers, maybe that meant the two men would be taken good care of on their next pass through the great cycle. She wished, bitterly, that she had tried harder to convert them to followers of Xaoc. Had they worshiped and loved the great deity as she did, perhaps they could have qualified as angels in Xaoc¡¯s service. Maybe she wouldn¡¯t have been forced to say goodbye. She acknowledged the great cycle of life. Aion granted life. Thanatos shepherded souls back to Samsara with gentle hands. All things came to an end. All things except for her, it seemed. Xaoc had seen fit to make her an exception¡ªsort of¡ªand it seemed that her status made her greedy. While she hoped the great cycle would be kind to the souls of the men, she struggled to accept it. She wanted more exceptions. But they were gone, and this was meant to be her final goodbye. She had completed her pilgrimage to the place where their lives were spent. She would never see either of them again. All she could do was carry them in her heart. She was molded by their instruction. She was better than she could have ever made herself, even had she somehow even survived without them. Whether they walked with her or rested within Samsara while they awaited their next cycle of rebirth, she intended to make them proud. She was their legacy. Book 1 - Chapter 27 - Adventurer IV Ranthia¡¯s first chosen job as an Adventurer in Ariminum, as it turned out, was a goblin hunt. It was a newly posted B-Ranked job to hunt down a nest of goblins that were just beyond the range that the city¡¯s various official defenders would bother with. They had attacked some rich idiot¡¯s wagon, and though the rich idiot clearly got away he was throwing a bounty of rods to seek revenge. Ranthia still had a bit of an issue with goblins, but it turned out that her discomfort had a price. Ranthia could deal to get a payday that rivaled most of the A-Ranked jobs. ¡­Granted, the other downside was wildly unsurprising, even if she had never uttered her alias in Ariminum. ¡°Oh, damn, I was going to take the job.¡± ¡°Yeah, but she¡¯s the Slasher of Goblins.¡± ¡°Oh, that makes sense. Go slash those goblins, Slasher!¡± Ranthia would never underestimate goblins again. She stalked their location in the old woodlands, scouted them out¡ªthe highest was a level 79 single-classed [Goblin ¨C Wind]¡ªand then mercilessly picked them off. The beasts knew true terror in their final moments, as their numbers dwindled. Ranthia refused to even fight them; instead, she stealthily closed in and executed them one by one. It was a cold and brutal combat style, one that [Sudden End] relished. Ranthia was left uncomfortable in the aftermath though, as she reflected on what she had done. During her journey home, Ranthia continued to wonder if that was really what she wanted to be. It was what she had originally meant to build her class into¡ªMirror for survival and to distract, then Dark¡­ or maybe Void to kill¡ªbut something about it just¡­ bothered her. Well, something other than the fact that she only got a single level in [Shadowed Steps] out of the bloody work. The brutality had soured at some point since she dreamt her build up. ¡°The Slasher of Goblins returns from slashing goblins!¡± An Adventurer shouted shortly after she returned to the Guild. Others cheered and piled on. Ranthia just groaned in mild suffering and turned the job in. Adventurers worked by their own schedule, outside of somewhat rare exceptions. Yet Ranthia still struggled at times to be available during Hexara¡¯s days off. Part of it was the often-limited warning Hexara would get¡ªdays off kind of rotated among the women that worked at the salon to make sure no one worked too many days in a row and they got time off when they had some need¡ªbut part of it was just how Adventurer jobs worked. Ariminum had a lot of Adventurers, especially compared to Sardonia. Decent jobs could be hard to find, even for a B-Ranked soloist. Worse, the immediate area within and around Ariminum was, ultimately, fairly safe. There was the city guard, there was some legion presence, there was a permanent Ranger team presence, and¡ªpurportedly¡ªthe Sentinels were based out of the city too; so, there was hefty competition in the area even before the fact that there were many dozens of Adventurers crammed into Ariminum (enough that Ranthia couldn¡¯t even speculate at a headcount; there were new faces nearly every time she entered the Guildhall). Getting a decent job required a strong blend of both speed and luck, and almost always necessitated travel beyond Ariminum. Hexara understood though and supported Ranthia. Because Ranthia was the luckiest lady in all of Pallos. They spent time together when they could and Ranthia was a frequent customer at the salon, even if Hexara¡¯s coworkers still refused to let Ranthia have the discount back. And [Sexy] leveled almost every visit, which was amazing. Oh well, work was good enough that Ranthia could afford it. Ariminum was expensive to live in, but Ranthia had a major advantage: her housing was free. Her food expenses, on the other hand, were mostly her own fault since [Mages]¡ªon average¡ªneeded more food than most people, since regenerating mana consumed your body¡¯s fuel much like recovering stamina did (and lucky Ranthia, she had to worry about both). Thankfully ongoing maintenance had proven to be so much easier than the initial job to clean out the underground section of the Owl¡¯s Sanctum. Spring was underway and Ranthia was looking forward to a birthday spent with Hexara¡ªher girlfriend was all but guaranteed to be able to get the day off¡ªin the near future. Ranthia wasn¡¯t big on surprises, but she trusted Hexara implicitly. It was sure to be a grand day. But that was still a bit away, and Ranthia needed to find new jobs in the interim. Her expenses were down¡ªa lot¡ªthanks to her arcanite making mana potions mostly unnecessary, but she still hadn¡¯t replenished what she had spent out of the funds that Tatius and Pupius had left her. (And she¡¯d happily take her knives to anyone that recommended fewer visits to the stylist to save money.) The job board was, naturally, heavily picked over. High travel time, dubious payments, or prolonged escort missions were the bulk of what the B-Ranked board had listed, and the rest of the jobs required a team. Ranthia still adamantly refused to even temporarily join with other Adventurers. It felt like a betrayal of Tatius and Pupius. Eventually, she would be ready. But that day hadn¡¯t come for her at that point. Instead, Ranthia finally took a job from the C-Ranked board. It didn¡¯t pay much, but it was also a job that she could probably knock out that afternoon. Herbs around Ariminum tended to get overharvested, but she knew a few spots that were usually solid. Ranthia reached the counter and set her Adventurer token down with the job sheet in front of the first available clerk she reached. The man smiled his professional smile at her and took them. But then he fell silent as he checked things. ¡°Rantha, B-Ranked? You¡¯re on the green board.¡± The clerk informed her with a shake of his head. The green board was the bamboo board where Adventurers signed up to group with other Adventurers on more complex jobs that needed larger teams than they possessed. Which meant Ranthia¡¯s name most certainly should not have been on it! ¡°Yeah, no. I¡¯m not doing group stuff right now. Not sure what idiot wrote my name down there, but no.¡± Ranthia grumbled while she fixed the clerk with a glare. She did not want to deal with the headache of fixing someone else¡¯s screw-up; there was no coin in it! ¡°That would have been the Guildmaster. It¡¯s an assigned job.¡± The man replied with obvious amusement. Ranthia cursed. That was the other use for the green board, when jobs came in where the client requested specific Adventurers or required Adventurers that had unique skillsets. Only the Guildmaster and his senior staff were able to assign jobs to Adventurers. In theory they were still optional, but in practice¡­ well, refuse at your own peril. Ranthia stood next to two other women in a meeting room that she had never set foot in before. The other two women were both two to three years older than Ranthia, though she towered over both of them. It was fun, sometimes, being on the taller side for men as a woman. Every day Ranthia saw people taller than her¡ªshe had even seen the rare woman that was taller than she was¡ªbut she was happy with her height. Much taller and she would have been forced to duck under most doorways. An ancient-looking man¡ª[Leader ¨C Dark] level 287, [Scribe ¨C Water] level 248; probably a rare retired Adventurer that took a Guild job¡ªambled in with a few other clerks. The man looked at each of them and sneered. ¡°Yeah, this is never going to work, but that¡¯s not my problem.¡± The old timer declared. ¡°You got a problem with women Adventurers?!¡± One of the two women next to Ranthia snapped. Ranthia had literally never laid eyes on the woman before, but she admired her spirit. ¡°Of course not, had two on my team back in the day. You¡¯ll see the problem soon enough. Where¡¯s the fourth?¡± He asked one of the clerks. ¡°No one¡¯s seen her in over a week. The Guildmaster said to run it with these three.¡± The clerk announced, his entire demeanor stiff and overly formal. ¡°Of course he did. Fine, none of this is on me. Open your ears and pay attention, you three. There¡¯s a temple northeast of here, along the Nostrum Sea. Used to be for priests that wanted to get away from everything and commune with their goddess in peace, but recently they decided that copying that School of Spellcraft and Sorcery gives their order more coin. Wealthy idiots that can¡¯t accept that women have finally been acknowledged in the Empire send their daughters there, then this temple teaches them to be meek and ¡®proper¡¯ to make them more valuable to marry off. ¡°Problem is, no one¡¯s received any letters from their precious daughters since the Winter Solstice holiday period ended. The temple just says everything is normal, but enough idiots have gotten worried enough to pool resources and throw a ridiculous sum of money into getting answers. ¡°The three of you are to pose as sisters, daughters of an enigmatic travelling merchant, and will be enrolled late by way of a hefty donation to the temple. Here¡¯s where you should be noticing the problem that I mentioned. Still, you¡¯re to find out why no one is hearing from their precious daughters. Combat is only authorized if something ridiculous is happening that immediately threatens the lives of the kids, like the temple is somehow a cult that¡¯s sacrificing them on bloody altars. Even if it¡¯s some slavery thing, your goal is to bring word to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild so we can make a large-scale A-Ranked job out of it. Two B¡¯s and a C are not a rescue force unless time is of the essence.¡± Ranthia cringed. The man¡¯s attitude made complete sense. Each of them had brown hair, that much was true. ¡­Except Ranthia¡¯s was darker than either of the other two, and those two didn¡¯t have the same shade either. Ranthia was younger than the other two, but much taller. And their physical builds had almost nothing in common. And then there was the other obvious problem¡­ ¡°If this is meant to train girls to be meek wives, aren¡¯t we kind of old?¡± Ranthia voiced her main concern. ¡°I did mention the hefty donation, right? You¡¯re about the same age as some of the oldest girls, but the other two will probably be the oldest girls enrolled there. Unfortunately, trying to sneak in Adventurers posing as staff was deemed unworkable.¡± The old man replied. Gods, what a mess of a job. A ridiculous sum of money meant there was probably a greed-inducing pile of rods awaiting payout if they accomplished the job. It was low risk, with the Adventurer¡¯s Guild¡¯s reputation and this merchant bearing the brunt of the danger. But it was just¡­ so obviously stupid. Their cover story was flimsier than a cheap scroll and investigations were not Ranthia¡¯s forte. Ranthia opened her mouth to try to refuse. ¡°Which goddess is this temple devoted to?¡± The quiet woman asked. Ranthia closed her mouth. ¡°Seira, the Goddess of Order.¡± One of the clerks answered. Godsdamnit. Ranthia was in; there was no way she was going to miss a chance to screw with Seira¡¯s people and their plans. Even if the temple staff had gone rogue and served only their own designs, the idea of a follower of Xaoc solving the problem in Seira¡¯s precious little temple? Delicious. And she owed Xaoc more than a little chaos after so many selfish delays. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Preparation¡­ well, preparation was a thing that happened. Ranthia couldn¡¯t, in good conscience, say it went well. It turned out her inability to learn names extended to pseudonyms, even when she was involved in their creation. Elaborate backstories also proved to be problematic. Simple and cryptic weren¡¯t exactly ideal, but with the limited prep time they had, that was what they went with. Ranthia was Amia. The angry lady was Bia. The quiet woman was Caea. ¡­And yes, Ranthia was responsible for the names. No one liked them, but that was fine! No one liked the idea that they were raised separately and barely knew each other. No one liked the idea of being cryptic and trying to avoid talking about their family or private lives. No one liked the fact that none of them looked plausibly related, no matter what the stylist did. No one liked the expensive togas they wore¡ªokay, angry Bia loved hers and negotiated keeping them as part of her payment¡ªand there was just little to like about the whole job. Hexara was incredibly displeased too, since Ranthia was about to vanish for the rest of the season. Ranthia couldn¡¯t even explain why beyond that it was an Adventurer job, but it meant that her birthday was going to pass somewhere else far away from Ariminum and her girlfriend. So yes, preparation happened. But nothing went well. ¡°It is I, the enigmatic travelling merchant!¡± A boisterous man declared. He was clad in layered¡ªand heavily dyed¡ªrobes, complete with a hooded cloak that partially obscured his face. ¡­His face that was covered by an ornately designed brass mask that hid everything except for his lips and chin. Oh gods. Ranthia and her ¡®sisters¡¯ failed to keep the grimaces off their faces when the gilded wagon arrived, bearing the very loud man. The plan was to meet up with their ¡®merchant father¡¯ and get escorted to the docks with him and his guards. Each of them was dolled up for the job, with only a small chest of belongings each. The story was the chests contained alternative clothing for each of them and a few minor personal effects, such as cosmetics. In practice, the other two had weapons hidden in their chests¡ªRanthia¡¯s knives were strapped to her back beneath her arcanite vest, hidden within her toga¡ªand Ranthia¡¯s chest was half contraband (Tali sets, alcohol, and silphium juice; she had plans). ¡°Ah, my sweet, sweet daughters, I see your respective mothers have left you here for me to collect! Come, come! No, don¡¯t burden your delicate selves with your belongings, my security detail can handle that¡ªit¡¯s about time they earn their keep since none would dare to attack me!¡± The enigmatic merchant¡ªhe¡­ he didn¡¯t seriously call himself that, right?¡ªannounced at the top of his lungs. It was all so strange. The security detail was a mix of [Warriors], [Rangers], and [Laborers] ranging from level 120 to level 181. The¡­ merchant was level 228 with the expected tags for a merchant, which dashed Ranthia¡¯s hopes that it was just another Adventurer that was overacting. How could anything so ridiculous be legitimate? Maybe their covers weren¡¯t quite as terrible as they thought. Caea¡ªapologies to whatever her name truly was¡ªhad been a thief when she was a kid. She wasn¡¯t any longer, but fortunately the only Skill she had kept from those days was the lynchpin behind everything. She had [Obscure Evidence], which¡ªallegedly, since it didn¡¯t seem to work on Ranthia¡¯s version of [Identify]¡ªmade them appear as [Artisans] with half their actual level. The three carefully restricted their motions to match their classes and respective levels while they tried to primly enter the surprisingly plush wagon, aided by the ¡­merchant¡¯s people. With the force of their ¡®father¡¯s¡¯ personality, all questions and reasonable suspicion were driven away. He was so weird that, somehow, everything just seemed to make sense. Their hopelessly shallow cover was rock solid, and no one batted an eye at the three starkly different women being labeled as sisters. Their refusal to speak of their personal lives or upbringing just resulted in sympathetic nods. The fact that two of them were plainly too old for the training program went unacknowledged. No one even bothered to check the chests that they brought! In short order the trio found themselves in the dorm while a stiff, stodgy woman that practically oozed order dully lectured them on the rules. An exhaustive list which could be summed up simply with ¡°don¡¯t.¡± Rules meant to break spirits and force neat compliance without freedom or any personal expression. Seira¡¯s flock wanted the poor girls forced into their care to act like a collective. ¡­Yeah, Ranthia wasn¡¯t even going to pretend that the job was her primary objective. There was something the temple needed far more than the flow of messages: it all but screamed for the taste of chaos. Fortunately, she was there to grant the girls a taste of life. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you got us expelled.¡± Bia¡ªor whatever¡ªsnarked. Their job was supposed to last the rest of¡ªthe majority of¡ªthe season. Instead, they didn¡¯t even quite make it eight days. To Ranthia, the job was an unmitigated success, especially since she wasn¡¯t bothered by any of the myriad factors that mitigated it. Ranthia had been given a crash course in investigations by the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, which was supported by advice from Bia and Caea (their true names were never, ever going to stick); with these advantages the true purpose of their infiltration was handled by the second night. There had been no grand conspiracy, the temple had just brought in more girls¡ªand more payment for their care¡ªthan they had the personnel to support. It turned out they were reading and resealing all incoming and outgoing messages. Creepy, but not surprising. Except their greed meant that they just had no time to deal with it, so the scrolls had piled up in the corner of an overworked office. No dark rituals, no slavery rings, no horrific abuse¡ªjust a lack of human resources. It was disappointing, but not surprising. But Ranthia enjoyed her brief unfettered access to their scrolls for external orders and requisitions. She really, really hoped that the order for the marble statue of Seira slipped through uncaught. Ranthia might not be the best reader or writer in Remus, but adjusting numbers on exacting proportions and specifications was a different matter altogether. Who didn¡¯t need a statue of the goddess of obstinance order that was somewhat squat with a bosom that defied all reason and sense, clad in a robe that was far too short for even her reduced stature? Frankly, the stodgy [Priests] and [Priestess] should thank her. Especially since they¡¯d have plenty of wine to help them enjoy it, if that order didn¡¯t get fixed. Her real point of pride was that she was pretty sure she had flipped a couple of the temple¡¯s acolytes. The young women had oh-so-eagerly learned all that they could about Xaoc and the path of chaos and all the delights that a chaotic life had to offer. It hadn¡¯t lasted long, but Ranthia was certain that their commitment to order was shattered. She had left a poison behind, one that promised to erode the order of the temple ever further. [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has reached level 57!] Ha! Ranthia just grinned broadly at the timing of the level, wondering if it was some piece of her mischief finally being discovered or if it was one of her new followers. With that, her [Covenant] had received an auspicious 16 levels total! Truly Xaoc must have been proud of her for spitting in His archrival¡¯s eye. Sneaking around the temple had been easy. Thanks to Caea¡¯s [Obscure Evidence] skill, no one had expected anything like Ranthia¡¯s [Shadowed Steps]. Ranthia had expected to need to put her stats to full use¡ªand possibly her dance practice¡ªfor acrobatics and derring-do to get about and avoid patrols¡­ but Seira¡¯s temple was so predictable. The security presence barely even inconvenienced her. Honestly, Ranthia probably would have gotten away with all of it except for one little miscalculation. Ranthia hadn¡¯t spent much time with young girls, and she had no experience with young women that were from wealthy families. She had sorely underestimated just how wild and hard the girls would go given access to the harmless little vices Ranthia offered them. Though it was hilarious when the head [Priest] barged in. For a moment there, Ranthia was half expecting the man¡¯s eyeballs to pop right out of his skull. There were downsides. The order turned out to have a couple of cancellers in their ranks. [Obscure Evidence] got beaten and their true levels and class archetypes became known. None of them had cracked¡ªthe idiots had tried to question them in the same room¡ªbut most likely the orderly twits had surmised that they were Adventurers. The Guild¡¯s reputation might suffer. A little. If anyone cared what anyone who openly followed Seira (seriously, of all deities) thought. The only reason the other two were surly was because they were looking forward to getting paid to do nothing for the rest of the season. Ranthia couldn¡¯t understand how they thought going through the overly religious man-centric lectures and other efforts to force the poor girls to become meek and compliant was anywhere worth the bit of coin. She¡¯d rather face an angry swarm of predators any day. Getting into Ariminum had become even more obnoxious at some point. The lines were well over twice as long as they used to be and advanced far more slowly. The reason? Some idiots in the empire¡¯s government had decided that they needed apprentice [Healers] stationed at every entry point to screen everyone that entered. As if plagues were that bad normally. Ranthia knew the horror they could bring better than most¡ªthe all-encompassing terror that had existed in Perinthus was all too easy to recall¡ªbut plagues of such severity were extremely rare. Just stay away from the guy that was coughing and you were fine, usually. The Adventurer¡¯s Guild was somewhat displeased that they had gotten caught, but Ranthia privately suspected that they were unsurprised. She was more surprised that a message from the temple¡¯s head [Priest] had reached the Guild ahead of them, one that, effectively, suggested that they should admit to their sins and repent. Which sounded like a whole lot of not her problem. Ranthia was still paid and Hexara was more than happy to have her back in town. Birthday plans were back on! But first, Ranthia had a promise to keep. Xaoc¡¯s temple was downright annoying to get to, as it turned out. It seemed to be wedged between two streets (nothing was more frustrating than circling an area while she could see her objective but couldn¡¯t find a way to reach it) and could only be accessed via a confusing set of alleys. The temple was nice. The architecture was¡­ weird in that way that could only be explained by Skills making things work. Or at least Ranthia couldn¡¯t see a plausible explanation for how that spire had been built as a corkscrew without collapsing. The inside was far more humble, with well-worn carved wood and little excessive ornamentation. And it was awesome to see multiple altars dedicated to Xaoc under one roof, many of which had people praying at them. The whole temple provided an air of belonging that Ranthia swore she felt in her heart. A young [Priest]¡ªokay he was probably at least eight years older than Ranthia, but Ranthia tended to think of [Priests] and [Priestesses] as wizened elder folk¡ªemerged from the back and held out his hand to use his Skills to light the candles. A few sputtering sparks lit candles in ones or twos¡ªthere were a lot of candles there¡ªbefore he shook his arm and a great fwoosh of flame roared out. The wicks that survived caught, but the candles had kind of melted into a congealed blob of wax. Several of those in prayer were startled but ultimately seemed to shrug it off. Then again, many of the candles seemed to be in terrible states, so perhaps the man was a known element to the locals? [Priest ¨C Fire] level 101 by color and [Priest ¨C Miasma] level 87. ¡­ Miasma!? Miasma was the advanced element comprised of Dark and Wind. ¡­And Ranthia¡¯s own knowledge suggested that the element was typically used for poisonous gasses. Classers that could kill undetected. Or make plagues, apparently, given her indirect experiences in Perinthus. What in Xaoc¡¯s glorious name was one of His [Priests] doing with it!? In any other temple, with any other deity, Ranthia would have written it off as not her problem and gone to an altar as planned. But when it came to Xaoc¡­ well, yeah, for all she knew He had put her on Pallos a second time around to stop a wayward [Priest] that was planning some unconscionable doom! Ranthia waited until he was well away from anyone¡ªand most people were closer to the exit than he was¡ªbefore she stepped next to him and whispered in a quiet, yet firm, tone. ¡°Can you explain your second class¡¯s element?¡± ¡°Our benevolently chaotic god works in mysterious ways.¡± The young [Priest] (firmly an adult by any other metric) replied breezily while he adjusted a carved piece of subtle decorative art to straighten it. ¡°That He does, but what exactly are you planning to do with those skills?¡± Ranthia stiffly responded. ¡°Would you like to see?¡± That came off as threatening, didn¡¯t it? Was it meant to be threatening? While Ranthia struggled with the cognitive dissonance about whether or not to draw her blades against a [Priest] that served the same god as she, the man reached out and tapped the sticks¡ªobviously soaked in scented oil¡ªthat sat atop a brass plate over a fire bowl. The subtle scent that the sticks provided the area of the main temple floor became more noticeable. ¡°¡­Wait, that¡¯s it?¡± Ranthia asked incredulously. ¡°Yuuup, I get to light the candles¡ªquite poorly, if I do say so myself¡ªand can magnify or reduce scents. At least this go-around. Isn¡¯t it fun?¡± The (not exactly) young man replied with a broad grin. ¡°¡­Okay, my apologies. I didn¡¯t even know Miasma affected scents.¡± ¡°No harm done, fortunately. I have better things to do today than get knifed by one of the faithful. Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?¡± ¡°¡­You¡¯re seriously not going to ask?¡± Ranthia finally¡ªand somewhat hesitantly¡ªreplied. She had kind of shown her hand more than she had in a very long time. ¡°What¡¯s there to ask? Clearly you are among the god-fondled.¡± The [Priest] replied dismissively. ¡°That¡¯s¡­! The phrase is god-touched!¡± Ranthia hissed in outrage. Not that she had ever actually heard anyone use the phrase before. ¡°Excellent to know!¡± The [Priest] bowed theatrically. ¡°But for now, I must get to those better things I mentioned. I simply must unpolish the silver ahead of supper. Our newest aspirant is hrm¡­ overenthusiastic seems like an apt descriptor. Yes, overenthusiastic! And it wouldn¡¯t do for all of us to end up blind if we attempted to sup as is. Until next time, my lady.¡± And with that, the strange, strange [Priest] hastily withdrew. Ranthia allowed herself a moment to process the interaction. Then, once she wiped the grin off her face, she shrugged it off. She had prayers to make. And she hoped Xaoc might deign to let her know if that statue she ¡®redesigned¡¯, the one of his competition, ended up getting made. Book 1 - Chapter 28 - The Chaotic Adventurer Ranthia had, once again, underestimated Ariminum. It was supposed to be a fairly straightforward investigations job¡ªpersonal, not an Adventurer job¡ªbut Ariminum was so massive and so piled up that finding useful rumors and information was a pain in the neck. Everyone was always gossiping¡ªseriously, how did so few people seem to have nothing better to do¡ªbut most of the rumors were idiotic. For example, the official explanation for the [Healers] at the town gates was an outreach program to help apprentice [Healers] get difficult early levels while it helped prevent plagues. That was sensible, though wasteful in the casual way that only governments and the wealthy could be. Less sensible was that this was somehow connected to the ongoing war. Honestly, it was the same as when she travelled years ago and heard fools blame the formorians every time seasonal rains washed out underused roads. Not every problem or change in life was due to some far away war out west that only the legions cared about! Anyway, constant rumors everywhere Ranthia went. Which was why Ranthia was on a completely different investigation than the one she had started on. Her personal project would keep, but she stumbled onto something that wouldn¡¯t. Or possibly she was just putting off the other investigation at the first convenient excuse. She was thrilled for an opportunity to cause the best kind of chaos: chaos that promised to ruin a complete jerk. Pompous Secondius Shiticus¡ªor whatever his full name was¡ªwas a minor official with the city tasked with handling permits for merchant stalls. No one was fond of him; the man was abrasive and self-important in that way that those with the tiniest bit of prestige and power tended to be. But, for Ranthia, the true problem was the rumors that he was using his position to coerce women into sex, while telling each of them that he was only interested in her and intended to marry her. The man was, naturally, already wed too. Just in case there was any doubt that he wasn¡¯t wholly reprehensible. Ranthia had proof that the rumors were true within a day. It was easy enough; he wasn¡¯t exactly subtle about it. Guilt proven, Ranthia was left with simply figuring out how she wanted to handle the situation. The man wasn¡¯t quite awful enough to just kill and call it a day; as tempted as she was, the knife wasn¡¯t the proper solution to every problem. Especially not when his shallow web of lies gave Ranthia an idea. Why use violence when she could instead unleash some happy chaos? Okay, so unleashing chaos could take time. That was a downside. In Ranthia¡¯s defense, there were a lot of pieces to manage. She had six different women in Ariminum to juggle, plus the man¡¯s actual wife¡ªwho almost never left the house¡ªand she needed the jerk¡¯s plans to coincide with her own plots. Each woman took a different approach too (which definitely never got confusing when coupled with Ranthia¡¯s inability to learn any of their names). But, at long last, things had come together. Ariminum had businesses that just had tables where people sat down and ordered food that was cooked on demand. Restaurants, they called them. Because apparently Ariminum¡¯s wealthy class were too good for food stalls on the streets. The caf¨¦ that Ranthia and Hexara sometimes visited technically was probably one of them, but Ranthia had already clung to her scorn and so she decided that it was¡ªsomehow¡ªan exception. The restaurant¡¯s sign depicted a blue fish that was impaled on a harpoon (because nothing stimulated the appetite quite like a reminder of how brutally the food was acquired) and Ranthia, arm-in-arm with one of the six women, strolled into the building with a smile on her face. It wasn¡¯t originally part of the plan to be present herself, but it was what was required to make things work. And she was mostly reasonably certain that her presence wouldn¡¯t derail the plan. The actual plan was comedically simplistic. The asshole was at the same restaurant with his wife on their once-every-32-days night out. Ranthia had¡ªby salvaging and reusing messages he had previously sent to his various lovers¡ªmanaged to convince four of the six victims that they were to meet him there. The last was being brought by her mother (Ranthia¡¯s skin had almost literally crawled while she convinced the older woman that she needed to spend more time with her daughter because a mother-daughter bond was precious). Still, it was all worth it. Ranthia had ensured that she was a bit early, so the eventual commotion would be focused further back and well away from where she sat. There were so many fish options available that Ranthia ended up just ordering what her ¡®date¡¯ picked; it was a bit overwhelming to someone that usually just followed her nose to whatever smelled good. A short time later, the food arrived. Okay, and yes, the beautifully seasoned fish on the bed of soft grains was really good. Ranthia wasn¡¯t too proud to admit it. She had expected the place to be in-line with the food stalls, but it was clearly a cut above. It was good. Maybe not as good as a fresh pot of rabbit stew prepared just the way she liked it, but it was close. And she wasn¡¯t even fond of fish! Ranthia was so focused on her food that she completely missed the first sounds of angry confrontations. In her defense, she was used to tuning a lot out in Ariminum. Crowds gave people a sense of false privacy and there was so much that Ranthia didn¡¯t care to hear. It was just yet another moment like that. At least up until her ¡®date¡¯ leaned to the side, looked, then gasped. It was kind of hard to miss the woman muttering an apology before she stormed further back into the restaurant with a furious look on her face. Ranthia shrugged it off and switched to the woman¡¯s chair so she could watch the goings-on while she finished her fish. She was hungrier than she thought. Good chaos escaped the confines of her plans swiftly. Great chaos took on a life of its own and spread in ways she could never have predicted. Ranthia decided in retrospect to declare that night a tier higher, tentatively titled fantastic chaos. As it turned out, one of the waitresses was the man¡¯s daughter from a previous engagement that he broke off when he came into money. The kid¡ª¡­roughly Ranthia¡¯s own age¡ªhad been quite vocal about coming to see what sort of man her father was. Ranthia heard her clearly, even over the other seven women that were screaming obscenities at the man. That would have been great chaos, but by absolute fluke the man¡¯s boss was present in one of the private rooms of the restaurant. He investigated and was¡­ displeased to find the man¡¯s indiscretions ruining his own night out with his family. At that point Ranthia had to pay¡ªwith an extra three rods as an apology¡ªand leave before she called attention to herself. It was almost impossible to contain her own laughter. Plus, she had already polished off both her own plate and the one that her ¡®date¡¯ had abandoned. [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has reached level 59!] It was inevitable, even for her, but Ranthia knew she needed to visit a [Healer] once she returned to town. The job had¡ªby happy fluke¡ªrequired eight days¡¯ travel from the capital. Someone with more money than sense wanted an obnoxiously rare flower for some nonspecific purpose and Ranthia lucked into being there when the job came in. And then she immediately ran out of luck when an unseasonably heavy summer rain began almost the very moment that she passed the gates out of Ariminum. At least it made her trek cooler, even if wet leather was unpleasant. Her travel cloak was good, but the rain was entirely too aggressive for her to keep dry. The flower, naturally, required a climb to reach it. Even with her vitality she almost missed it through the driving rain, but there were the orange-and-yellow petals that she sought. Ranthia immediately started her ascent, eager to be done with the job. And then, just when she was almost in range to reach the plant, the section that she was climbing just collapsed. Ranthia¡¯s reflexes offered no solution, there wasn¡¯t anything within reach that she could grab that wasn¡¯t falling with her. If anything, she had to tamp down on the absurd urge to throw an image out and shift to it¡ªchannel time aside, she was in her real body; that would have just been an act of suicide! All she could do was try to roll so her right shoulder was pointed at the ground first, to protect her potion pouch. It was reinforced, but that wasn¡¯t going to help much if she landed on it. The impact would have been bad enough, but an accursedly positioned rock just had to be there. Ranthia was proud of herself for not screaming on the way down. She wasn¡¯t quite able to stop herself when her arm broke¡ªbadly¡ªon impact. Sometimes severe injuries had a delay before the pain hit, but not that time. Ranthia was keenly aware of the fragments of bone that tore into her muscles. Of the impact that knocked the breath from her lungs. And of the agony that threatened to overwhelm her. She had an escape route and her mind knew it. She fought through the agony and soon had a mirror image positioned next to her body and channeled to shift into it. Just like that, the pain became nothing more than a distant (traumatic) memory. Ranthia shuddered as she examined her true body from the outside. The break was bad, and she was pretty sure that she had cracked a rib or three. The injuries weren¡¯t the sort that she could let herself recover from naturally. ¡°Lesson learned, you¡¯re only invulnerable when you¡¯re not in your real body.¡± Ranthia chided herself, before she eyed the plant. She was not leaving without it. The pay was too high, and it had just become more important than ever. Honestly, she was wildly embarrassed in retrospect. When her mirror image slipped, she just threw a fresh image up top and successfully shifted to it before she hit the ground. At least with her abilities the journey back home only sucked at night; by day she walked in a mirror image¡¯s body pain free while [Reflective Motility] kept her real body plodding after her. At least until she reached Ariminum. She didn¡¯t want to heavily broadcast her abilities, so she gritted her teeth through the agony while she stood in line and tried to ignore the visible discomfort of those around her. Seriously, it wasn¡¯t like her pain affected them! The [Healer] on duty looked green while he stared at her arm¡ªseriously, some people were obviously not cut out for the profession they chose¡ªbut the guards refused to allow him to do anything for her arm and just had him screen her as usual. She knew, from other Adventurers, that there was a dual-classed [Healer] with both Light and Dark somewhere near that entrance that many recommended, but it still took her entirely too long to find the building. Surprisingly, the [Healer] treated her before payment even came up. Ranthia sagged in relief as her arm shrank back down to its normal size and the angry red color receded. Other scars and artifacts of her Adventurer career faded away as well. A tightness in the back of her head that she had grown accustomed to, from the time some idiot tried to bash her skull in with a vase, vanished. Dozens of little aches and inconveniences. The [Healer]¡¯s services were suspiciously cheap; it only cost a little over half what she was about to¡ªgods willing¡ªmake off the job. The [Healer] just muttered something about an Oath and evaded answering her question any further, but Ranthia shrugged it off. She sure wasn¡¯t going to complain and she wasn¡¯t really that curious about what drove people to hate money. Things with Hexara were mostly going great. They had decided to keep their relationship open¡ªthough it wasn¡¯t exactly casual¡ªand Ranthia had long known that Hexara was seeing someone else ¡°non-romantically.¡± Yet the woman was oddly embarrassed about what that meant and refused to explain. Which was fine! Ranthia was curious, but she wasn¡¯t going to push the woman that she loved (not that either of them had said the L word in that context). At the moment, Ranthia was preoccupied with haggling with a merchant that wanted such a completely ridiculous price for three onions that Ranthia was half-tempted to call the guard on him. Twenty-eight coins was outrageous! Hexara and Ranthia were supposed to be shopping for ingredients so Ranthia could cook them a simple dinner later that evening, but Ranthia could practically feel her girlfriend¡¯s exasperation. Sure, she could have found a different merchant with less naked greed, but Ranthia was determined to batter the man down! Or at least, she was, until they were distracted. ¡°Oh, hey, fancy running into you here Hexy!¡± A rather pretty girl in a very flattering tunic greeted Hexara after she ran over. ¡°Oh, uh, hi¡­¡± Hexara replied in a quiet voice. Ranthia¡¯s girlfriend had an odd, almost flighty, look on her face. ¡°Oho, who¡¯s this lovely lady?¡± Ranthia asked after she flipped off the greedy merchant and abandoned his stall. This promised to be far more interesting! ¡°Hi! Hexy knows me as Sunrise. She¡¯s one of my favorites, y¡¯know!¡± The woman was perky but something about her voice just¡­ did things for Ranthia. She had never heard a combination of bubbly and sultry before, but it definitely worked.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°Nice to meet you, Sunrise! I¡¯ve just got to know; how do you know Hexy?¡± Ranthia seemed to be the only person in Ariminum that wasn¡¯t allowed to call Hexara ¡®Hexy¡¯. Hexara¡¯s co-workers and now this mystery woman used it, yet when Ranthia tried Hexara got weird about it and insisted Ranthia not call her that. The new woman looked at the visibly embarrassed Hexara and the obviously interested Ranthia and grinned mischievously. ¡°She¡¯s my favorite client!¡± Sunrise name-dropped the brothel she worked at¡ªwhich Ranthia promptly forgot¡ªand strongly hinted that Hexara had spent the night with her a few nights ago¡ªthe night that Ranthia was late back from a job and ended up locked outside of the city for the night. ¡°You should stop by sometime; I¡¯d be happy to take care of any friend of Hexy¡¯s! Or maybe the both of you could visit me together someti¡ª¡± Sunrise tried to entice them. ¡°Sorry, we¡¯ve got to go! Maybe another time!¡± A red-faced Hexara declared loudly, cutting Sunrise off, before she grabbed Ranthia¡¯s arm and tried to hurriedly drag her off. Ranthia found the whole thing hilarious, but she wasn¡¯t about to openly laugh at her girlfriend¡¯s expense. Seriously, why was Hexara so embarrassed about visiting a brothel? It wasn¡¯t like Ranthia was going to judge her for having needs! A massage from Sunrise turned out to be even better than Ranthia had expected. The difference that Skills made! The sunny woman¡¯s other skills were pretty great too, of course. Ranthia had often sought out the mysterious pale woman who had inspired her so much and she only redoubled her efforts once she adjusted her schedule a bit to enable visits to Sunrise. Ariminum¡¯s night life was always more active than Ranthia would have expected, but she felt like she should have found some sign of the magnificent dancer. Worse, no one seemed to know who she spoke of when she tried to ask around either. Which was a damned shame, Ranthia would have traded a lot to be able to see the woman¡¯s dance again. She felt like she was hitting a wall with her own dance practices, even as her own combat style started to slowly incorporate some of what she practiced. If only she could have seen that dance again and paid attention to the details that she had glossed over! She just knew there was something else there that she hadn¡¯t yet grasped. Eventually, Ranthia concluded the personal investigation, despite her best efforts to find other things to do. She had learned quite a bit about her mother¡¯s new husband¡ªeven if she couldn¡¯t explain why she cared¡ªand was wildly unimpressed with the man. The only good thing was it was clear that she¡¯d never be expected to call him father. The man owned a food stall company, one with numerous stalls across the city. The puffery claimed that he cooked everything himself before dawn every day, then the stalls sold it to hungry customers. But that was clearly just puffery. Ranthia had learned that almost all of the stalls actually were stocked with day-old foods from other businesses that were bought cheap and resold high. The primary stall, which was typically run by her mother, received food prepared by a level 61 [Laborer] who was obviously a bought and owned slave. To Ranthia, it was a scam. The important and impactful customers bought the ¡®good¡¯ (more like passable) food from the main stall. The owner claimed that he had high praise from such customers, which kept a steady enough stream of them coming and gave the food stalls a reputation. Meanwhile the poorer folk, those with inferior means, could only purchase the more profitable junk quality food and any complaints that they had just didn¡¯t spread very far. Unfortunately, this meant that the man¡¯s entire livelihood was a scam that Ranthia expected would inevitably collapse. It was just a question of when. ¡­And a question of what would happen to her mother when it did. The man himself was eminently lazy. He vocally claimed to work hard, though Ranthia discovered that his ¡®workshop¡¯ where he allegedly cooked was just a lounge where he drank and harassed female slaves all day while her mother and everyone else worked. Disgusting, but not surprising. What was weird, however, was the other thing that Ranthia discovered while she snuck around. It seemed that her mother and the worthless man that she had married had adopted a couple of children. It felt extremely out of character for both of them and kind of made Ranthia¡¯s blood boil a bit; her mother cast her aside the instant anything about her changed, yet she was willing to take on other children?! Ranthia agonized over her decision for days, but finally decided that she should warn her mother about the man she had married. She was so angry at the woman, but she also didn¡¯t necessarily believe that her mother deserved to suffer for her husband¡¯s fragile business model. ¡­And the children that they had adopted certainly didn¡¯t, even if Ranthia struggled to truly see them as innocents. Once again Ranthia ambushed her mother at night, while the woman was alone and on her way home after a long day. The cruel woman hadn¡¯t even waited up for the poor youth that was struggling with the supplies left over from the day (which made Ranthia second-guess herself, but damnit she was already there¡­) ¡°I have nothing to say to you, leave me alone.¡± Her mother snapped the instant that she saw Ranthia. ¡°Please, I just wanted to warn you¡­¡± Ranthia tried, though she trailed off. If her mother refused to hear her out, fine. At least she had tried. ¡°Fine, about what?¡± The woman asked while she folded her arms in front of her chest. ¡°It¡¯s about your husba¡ª¡± Her mother cursed at her and stormed off without hearing her out. Eventually, sometime after the woman left, Ranthia decided that it was fine. It was her mother¡¯s funeral when things finally collapsed. She had tried to do the right thing, and she was ready to absolve herself from the whole ordeal. It plainly wasn¡¯t her problem. Leveling rates slowed the higher your level got, but Ranthia was wholly ready to admit that the opportunities for levels while she lived in Ariminum were significantly worse than those she had in Sardonia. There just were far fewer opportunities to push herself or get into unreasonable situations. Ranthia had mixed feelings about that. Part of her still desired to flash through the levels as rapidly as she could, to become stronger; to become harder to kill. This was fueled by rumors that some of the Sentinels had their third classes. She wasn¡¯t quite sure if she believed the rumors¡ªthey were kind of hard to believe when she hadn¡¯t ever seen anyone at a higher level than her former guildmaster¡ªbut the potential fired up her competitive spirit. She had a long way to go. And yet, at the same time, she had something special with Hexara. She wanted to spend as much time with her girlfriend as she could and part of her feared breaking Hexara¡¯s heart. Adventuring was a wildly unsafe career path, no matter how much Ranthia loved it. Hexara had actually¡ªgently¡ªalready tried to encourage Ranthia to find a different career when she discovered that the numerous little scars and marks that had covered Ranthia¡¯s body had vanished after her visit to the [Healer]. At least Ranthia¡¯s second visit to the same [Healer] had been far less noticeable, even if it had been a far more gruesome injury. Some days Ranthia was almost a little tempted to retire, just to make Hexara happy. Not that it was a real solution. Hexara made decent money, but Ranthia somehow doubted that Hexara could¡ªor would want to¡ªsupport both of them. And Ranthia had no other skills. Even if she pushed her classes to level 256 and 128, respectively, her class up options were sure to continue along the path she was on. And the idea of abandoning her Mirror [Mage] class made her sick to her stomach with nervousness. It was hard to imagine another path, at least not a serious one. She loved exploration. Her heart sang every time she defeated a monster that had proven problematic. She enjoyed the gratitude from her clients on the rare occasions that she got to experience it. Sure, the idea of being a [Cook] had some appeal. Briefly she was able to entertain the daydream of having her own food stall, of taking a class to support it. But it was a struggle to find enthusiasm for the idea of doing that day after day. She liked making soups and stews and she loved to share them with those she cared about, but it wasn¡¯t a career that she had passion for. She was an Adventurer, and it was just too hard to imagine a life where she did something wholly without travel. Gods, she probably would have already left Ariminum if not for Hexara. The wanderlust had never left her, but she hadn¡¯t yet seen everything in the area, at least. Winter had arrived once again. Ranthia had barely returned from a job slaying a neovenator¡ªshe was literally in the midst of turning the job in along with one of the dinosaur¡¯s claws as proof¡ªwhen the clerk quietly informed her of a new job that had just come in. Ranthia had, for a while now, heard rumors from other Adventurers about a stretch of woodland where unusual monsters kept appearing. And now they had a small village adjacent to the area that was claiming that its farmland was being burned by mysterious monsters. Ranthia silently apologized to Hexara, but the job was just too interesting. She had to know if there was any truth to it. Plus, she needed to hurry; by the time the season turned, some Ranger team was all but certain to have come through. Assuming the village hadn¡¯t lost its entire crop and been forced to evacuate by then. Ranthia had smelled the smoke long before she arrived and by the time she finally reached it, the village¡¯s walls were aflame. Panicking men and women threw buckets of sand at the flames, while two others bravely attempted to fend off the threat with low-quality bows and archery that was plainly outmatched. Their opponents, at first, seemed to be a pack of dogs¡ªtoo small and stocky to be wolves. Yet smoke trailed from their mouths, they left ash when they moved, and, of course, there was the glow each possessed. It was as if they were embers made flesh. Ranthia had started channeling just in case when she smelt the smoke. On arrival she vaulted over the (honestly, far too low) wall in a location that was less ablaze than most and immediately shifted to a fresh mirror image. She wasn¡¯t about to throw her real body at the threat, but she didn¡¯t want to waste time trying to hide her abilities better. ¡°Protect that!¡± Ranthia snapped at one of the villagers, before she leapt onto the roof of a house that was far too close to the wall and used it to spring over the wall that the beasts were actively blasting with fireballs and clouds of hot ash. Ranthia¡¯s skin seared as she closed in with the first beast, but she drove her [Blades of Darkness] empowered knife through its spine before it could retreat from her. [*ding!* You have slain a [Hellhound] (Inferno, level 127)!] What on Pallos was a hellhound?! Not that she had time to worry about that. Even with [Blades of Darkness] her knife was uncomfortably warm in her hand and her skin was near blistering. Ranthia tried to throw another image out near one of the monsters, but the cloud of ash that surrounded the beast destroyed the image before she could even put it to use. This wasn¡¯t going to be quite so easy, even if the pack was only eight¡ªer, seven¡ªmonsters strong. Another hellhound barked and this¡ªsomehow¡ªresulted in a fireball that Ranthia had to dodge. Ranthia leaned into her dance moves as she closed in. Ambush tactics weren¡¯t going to cut it, she needed to stay light on her feet while she closed in so she could evade their own attacks. Ranthia sent out three more mirror images in rapid succession, each positioned away from the monsters¡ªand within Ranthia¡¯s line of sight¡ªwith the hopes that they might draw some of the pack¡¯s attention. Though it was a challenge to have them evade while she focused on her own efforts as well. She had to replace the first image before she reached the next monster. Her first slash on the hellhound wasn¡¯t a kill, though it turned away and shook its head while it dealt with the loss of its left eye, which allowed her to finish it off with her next attack. [*ding!* You have slain a [Hellhound] (Ash, level 113)!] The next two came to her, trailing ash and radiating punishing heat. Ranthia took one out mid-lunge while she sacrificed her sandal to deliver a painful¡ªfor her¡ªkick to the other to buy time. Unfortunately, her current image was in no condition to press the attack, so even as she got the kill confirmation she started to channel. [*ding!* You have slain a [Hellhound] (Fire, level 77)!] The instant her channel completed she went through the process to shift to an image that wasn¡¯t under attack. The image that she abandoned was eliminated by a fireball she had almost missed entirely after she shifted. No longer burnt, Ranthia took a moment to pull mana from her arcanite before she rushed to close in on the nearest hellhound, even as chunks of smoky leather flaked off her charred sandal. For a single beautiful moment everything seemed to align in a wondrous way Ranthia hadn¡¯t experienced before. Her dance-like moves felt perfect. Her pivot and slash with her knife naturally flowed, and her knife ended the hellhound¡¯s existence¡­ or, at least it did once [Cross Strike] applied and drove the wound just a bit deeper. But everything felt graceful and right! [*ding!* You have slain a [Hellhound] (Inferno, level 122)!] And then she danced straight into a cloud of searing ash. Ranthia cursed aloud and hurriedly focused through the blistering pain to channel until she could shift to the last intact image she had up¡ªdamnit she needed to be better about keeping track of that¡ªbefore she started to pull from her arcanite again. She had screwed up earlier, she should have kept drawing from it to keep her mana up before it got nearly empty, and she wasn¡¯t going to make the same mistake again. Drawing mana from her arcanite came easily, since she was attuned. All she had to do was basically tense a metaphorical muscle with the intent to pull from it and the stones set into her vest and her gauntlet dimmed as their power waned. She had enough arcanite that a single refill of her mana didn¡¯t expend all that it had to offer, but it wasn¡¯t like she had an endless supply. She had thinned the pack by half, at least, which gave her more ability to replace and maintain her lost images. The dogs weren¡¯t very intelligent and kept distance between them, which made it far easier for her to close in and eliminate them one-by-one without getting overwhelmed by their attacks. Soon there were three. Then two. Then one. And then, with a final shift¡­ [*ding!* You have slain a [Hellhound] (Ash, level 114)!] It was done. [*ding!* [Reflective Motility] has reached level 190!] [*ding!* [Persistent Imagery] has reached level 167!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Sudden End] has reached level 126!] [*ding!* [Dark Affinity], [Knives & War], [Blades of Darkness], and [Strengthen Blade] have reached level 126!] [*ding!* [Cross Strike] has reached level 89!] The villagers were grateful, though there was a certain bitterness behind their gratitude. The fields that had once borne their precious crops were naught but ash and the village¡¯s walls were largely a lost cause. The men and women that lived there either needed to endure an especially expensive and harsh winter, or they would need to abandon their homes. Not that it was an unfamiliar risk for those that sought to tame a new piece of Remus¡¯ wilds. Still, Ranthia¡¯s job was done, and it wasn¡¯t like she could wave her hand and replace their lost food. Honestly, she was more than a little distracted by her own grumpiness. She had a couple of spare pairs of sandals¡ªshe was capable of learning from her mistakes¡ªbut she was a bit morose that she¡¯d need to get some of the studded leather strips of her skirt replaced. She was reasonably certain that the rest of her armor only needed some maintenance, but there was no chance of simply repairing several of those burnt strips. Ranthia collected some parts from the strange monsters¡ªshe was not about to try eating the meat of something that seemed to be almost as much element as beast¡ªand set off for her journey home. Ranthia left her armor with the armorer that created it, then hit the Adventurer¡¯s Guild next. She wanted a bath¡ªshe swore she still smelled smoky¡ªbut it would keep until she turned in the job. It wasn¡¯t like it ever took terribly long to turn in a job. ¡­At least that was her hope until she was told to turn it in to the Guildmaster himself. ¡°You¡¯re Rank A now, congratulations.¡± The Guildmaster informed her almost the very instant that she finished her report to him. ¡°¡­Just like that? No test?¡± Ranthia asked, taken aback. The man gestured to the monster pieces that were arrayed on a tray on his desk. ¡°You cleared out a group of monsters that we have no records of at all. I¡¯d been waiting for an excuse to promote you, this qualified. One of the clerks will update your guild symbol downstairs; I¡¯ve already sent word.¡± ¡°¡­Thank you.¡± Ranthia managed, still more than a bit surprised at it being such a non-event. Everything in Sardonia had been such a big deal at every step of her career, and yet reaching the apex was just¡­ a few words. At least Hexara was happy to celebrate with her. Book 1 - Chapter 29 - A Brief Bit of Immortality With her new rank, Ranthia finally¡ªat long, long last¡ªhad access to the fancy job board. The materials involved in its construction were the same, but the number of zeroes on the number of rods each job paid out made it fancy (at least in Ranthia¡¯s own mind). Tatius and Pupius had once had access to this board, but they had reached Rank A at the same time that she¡­ stepped aside from Adventuring for a necessary period of (oh-so-literal) self-reflection. In a way, it felt like she had finally caught up to the men¡ªto her fathers. She knew that they would be proud. And she was absolutely not going to start crying while she stared at the job board damnit! She was fine! She was an A-Ranked Adventurer¡ªthe apex tier that few ever achieved. She had the best, hottest girlfriend in Remus. Her armor had been restored and looked as great as ever. And she was oh-so-close to her eighteenth birthday. Surprisingly, she got a handle on her emotions and seriously checked the jobs. There was a lot less competition for A-Ranked jobs. The Guild had lost many of its A-Ranked members in the same incident that had claimed her true family and roughly a year and a half was not enough time to replenish their ranks. Plus, most of the jobs tended to be a bit more of an involved commitment. There was even a security job that was scheduled for 4810¡ªa bit more than five years away¡ªthat would last a guaranteed three years at a minimum. A-Ranked jobs tended to write their details on the job itself, since it was expected that Adventurers of that tier would have at least some level of familiarity with the written word. Ranthia¡¯s studies didn¡¯t make her an expert, but she was able to parse out what she needed to. Monster hunts were rare on the board since few threats were restricted to A-Ranked Adventurers (and those that were tended to get Sentinels or full Ranger teams thrown at them instead). Most jobs fell under three categories in Ranthia¡¯s eyes: security details, investigations, or ¡°this is really weird.¡± Ranthia mouthed a silent apology to Hexara as she picked her first A-Ranked job. It was going to take her a while, but she was optimistic that she¡¯d make it home in time for her birthday. The first step of the job involved joining up with a merchant caravan as part of its security detail while she established her cover. This extended her travel time to a bit more than 88 days, but it ensured that she wouldn¡¯t stand out. And blending in was the most important thing if she hoped to resolve the job that she had selected. The job was an opportunity to do a lot of good, show up a bunch of so-called experts, and probably cause a lovely bit of chaos. People had been going missing in a small town, one of the in-between places that saw quite a bit of travel as people crossed through it on the way to larger destinations. Some of the missing had since been found dead in high-risk positions as slaves. Two Ranger teams had checked into things, but they found nothing out of the ordinary. Officially speaking, it was written off as foolish travelers getting drunk and disorderly, then being unable to pay the fine and reimbursements for the damage that they caused. They were either unable or unwilling to involve others and had chosen more hazardous work to pay off their fines through perfectly legal volunteer slavery. The legalese was purportedly immaculate. But one merchant family refused to accept that explanation for their son¡¯s best friend, a young woman who was one of the dead victims. They were absolutely certain that there was no way that she would have ever gotten so drunk and dangerous. The merchant family put their money where their faith was, at least. The job promised to pay a small fortune if Ranthia could find evidence of wrongdoing, she wasn¡¯t even required to resolve anything. It took the bulk of the season, but at last the caravan rolled into the town in question, late in the evening. Ranthia waved to the other members of the security detail and wandered off to ¡®explore¡¯ the town before she settled in for the night. It took Ranthia a while to find a hiding place. The town had opted for a fairly sprawling layout to enable large roads and easy navigation even for the largest of convoys, which made for a dearth of little secure places to stash a body. Finally, she just climbed onto the roof of the more-suspicious tavern (there were only two in town and the other closed the bar when it got dark, which had to be the most idiotic business decision any tavern owner had ever made). [Shadowed Steps] kept her stealthy while she moved around on the roof in the dim light of the waning moons. Which was apparently fairly novel, as far as the skill was concerned. [*ding!* [Shadowed Steps] has reached level 100!] Once she was confident that her true body was out of sight, sheltered, and not in danger of rolling off the roof, she created a mirror image and, one channel later, shifted to it. ...Then tied her body to the building just to be safe. This meant that she would have to free her own body come time, but that was infinitely preferrable to suddenly dying without ever knowing what had gone wrong! Ranthia climbed back down to the street with her mirror body, then strolled into the tavern. The armor-clad 17-year-old had established her cover, which the other members of the caravan would corroborate since they had every reason to believe that it was true. She claimed to be a runaway bride that had become an Adventurer and traded her dowry for some used armor (traveling for so long in an ill-fitting suit of cheap leather armor¡ªdesigned for a man¡¯s build¡ªhad sucked, yes). Her real gear was secure in the oversized pack that she left with her body. She was as far as anyone knew a fairly standard newly minted C-Ranked Adventurer, albeit a prickly one with a temper. Of course, it was¡­ odd to see a newly minted level 200-ish [Mage]¡ªnot that most people seemed to be very skilled at recognizing specific colors, weirdly¡ªC-Ranked Adventurer who was a runaway bride. The solution was easy though, Ranthia just acted exactly how they expected. When she had to deal with threats she went for her sword. She refused to explain herself and allowed every man and woman in the caravan to come up with their own explanations for the oddities. People could be remarkably skilled at explaining away things to meet the reality that they experienced, and Ranthia had learned from her stint in the order temple that it was best to establish a simple lie and let other people fill in the blanks for themselves. It still seemed counterintuitive, but gods and goddesses it was impossible to deny how reliably it just worked. And so, Ranthia let herself get drunk and loud, just like her persona would have. ¡°The ale may be cheap, sour crap, but at least it¡¯s not mead!¡± She called out boisterously. Several other drunken men around her cheered, as they egged her on. Not that she had any idea what that even meant; mead was just fine! It was all too easy to blabber nonsense while drunk, especially since she willfully released her own inhibitions. A short time later, yet another man tried to cop a feel (as if he could feel much of anything with the armor that she was strapped into). She angrily swatted his hand away with clumsy force. ¡°Ah¡¯m a Scheee-Ranked Adv¡­ Ad¡¯turer! Get yer hands off or ah¡¯ll off them off!¡± She slurred. Maybe if she took that short sword that she carried to the man it would progress things? He probably deserved it. The thought made her decide to lower her head onto the counter while she took a moment to shift back up to her real body. She¡¯d been nervous about her ability to channel while drunk, but oddly it felt surprisingly easy to focus on the channel no matter how much she drank; if anything her ability to fixate on the process had improved. Immediately her head cooled, and her thoughts returned to normal. It made it easier to prevent the alcohol from affecting her judgment too much, but it was a tricky balance. She never dared stay in her real body for too long and she couldn¡¯t let her mana dip too low. Nor could she risk passing out for real though; she had never found a way to keep an image intact while she was unconscious or asleep. Why the drunkenness from alcohol didn¡¯t transfer, she had no idea. But she was grateful for that quirk of her Skills. It gave her an opportunity to take a break in a calmer head, which was important since she needed to stay coherent for as long as she could. If she was right about the situation, sooner or later a corrupt guard was going to show up and arrest her or one of the other men for ¡®wrecking the place¡¯ while everyone else was drunk enough to be convinced of the lie. That would be her cue to¡­ well, she would see what the situation required when the time came. Deep into the night Ranthia was handed a fresh mug of ale, then the instant she took a heavy swig of it the world started to spin out of control. Her head hit the counter again¡­ but this time it wasn¡¯t intentional! Ranthia desperately clung to her consciousness as the world spun and swayed in a sickening array of colors and cacophonous sounds. Something was horrendously wrong! She struggled and fought while her vitality clung gamely to the veneer of consciousness that she maintained. She had no idea what was even happening anymore, and she couldn¡¯t even figure out how to shift back to her true body. At some point, after an indeterminate period of terror, Ranthia finally started to recover. The world once again started to make sense. Her head pounded, she felt horrible, and the inside of her mouth tasted strongly of stale vomit... but she finally understood these things once again. She tried, and failed, to get up. In the aftermath of that failure, she forced herself to take a moment to process where she was. Her thoughts still felt sluggish, but she figured things out quickly enough. After all, she was naked and tied up somewhere dark. There weren¡¯t exactly a ton of details to process, other than the fact that the rope was uncomfortably tight. There was nothing to indicate to her where she was and there was nothing to see. ...The System didn¡¯t deign to offer her a Skill to see in the dark either, not that she had a spare General Skill slot for it. Class skills never came quite so readily. As soon as she could manage, Ranthia held her breath and tried to return to her true body. Her first attempt at channeling failed¡ªthankfully early in, so the mana lost wasn¡¯t too bad¡ªas did the second. But on the third attempt she finally succeeded. Thank Xaoc, it was still exactly where she left it¡ªand was actually in range¡ªand Ranthia threw out another mirror image and went through a slow process with [Reflective Motility] while she tried to guide the image through freeing her true body. ¡°Okay, never doing that again...¡± Ranthia promised herself once she was freed. She hadn¡¯t expected to get drugged, and it was pretty clear to her that something had been added to that final drink! She had gotten blackout drunk a few times, but that had been completely different. At least this meant she was on the right path to her lovely payday, but she hadn¡¯t expected to risk her life quite so intensely. Had she lost consciousness... Ranthia shuddered one last time before she grabbed her pack. They had stolen the crap gear that she wore for her disguise, but she still had her real armor along with her real belt. And that meant she, at long last, had the knives that her [Warrior] kit actually worked with. And she had her arcanite, which she immediately drew from to replenish what she had spent. She was ready to figure out what the hell this disgusting conspiracy truly was. And she wasn¡¯t going to be gentle about it either. Once she was geared up and her mana was recovered (and her true body was once again secured with the rope), she shifted back down to her drugged and imprisoned body. Even with her head partially cleared by the time spent in her real body, the lingering effects of whatever shit the bastards had slipped her made it a challenge to channel, but she finally succeeded in getting a new geared up image placed nearby and shifted¡­ back to her body. There she drained what was left in her arcanite, so she could shift to the new image. Freed from her bonds and fully armed and armored, Ranthia began her investigation. There were no windows and the slightly cool and damp feeling suggested that she was underground, but she wasn¡¯t in a cell. The door to the small room her drugged body had been tossed into didn¡¯t even latch, she just walked straight through it after she dismissed the drugged image. There were a few other naked, tied up people in other rooms, all men. The men seemed to be more coherent than she had been, since most of them thrashed angrily at their bonds when they saw her. Ranthia silently apologized, but she left them where they were. Freeing them at that point would have been idiotic; they were¡ªfor the moment¡ªsafer in captivity. Finally at the end of the dim corridor, Ranthia found several armed men in casual conversation. Ranthia carefully crept closer using [Shadowed Steps] while she listened, hoping to learn something useful. Surprisingly, she wasn¡¯t disappointed.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The men in the room were just hired thugs though, it seemed. The highest leveled man among them was just barely over level 100 in his [Laborer] class. Honestly, not one of them amounted to much of a threat. But they provided her with all of the information that she needed, just from listening to them for a short while. Seriously, had none of them ever heard a single bard¡¯s song about incompetent hired help? Because, somehow, they embodied the worst of it. The men had been hired by the man that owned the tavern. The whole thing was a neat little setup that involved literally every guard in town and the mayor himself, but¡ªat least according to these idiots¡ªit was the tavern owner that was the mastermind. One of the hires was new, so the more veteran members walked him through how the conspiracy worked! Why anyone would give the hired help full details of their evil machinations was beyond Ranthia, but apparently the plot was that the group would drug and capture 2-3 people periodically: the last to leave, those who got drunk enough to pass out, or occasionally ones they thought they could get a good price for. Ranthia apparently fell into the third category. The governor in one of the nearby larger cities¡ªthough the thugs weren¡¯t sure which, which was honestly surprising at this point¡ªwas also in on everything. He bought the new slaves from the tavern owner, then the tavern owner split the proceeds with the mayor and guards, with bonuses that made it down to the hired help. Captured men and women that caught the governor¡¯s eye would never appear on the books though, he had a ¡°special¡± place to hide them for his own amusement. The rest were reported to have destroyed part of the tavern in a brawl. Everything, officially, looked like they were sold into slavery normally, but they were actually exclusively sold off to unscrupulous businesses and individuals for deadly work. While everyone in the room was involved in the conversation, it was one thug in particular that tended to monologue about the minutiae of the plans. He was vocally angry because he wanted a bigger piece of the money along with ¡°a hot slave or two¡± of his own. He deserved it since he had been with the group since the very beginning, or so he claimed. Once the conversation turned far more... rape-centric, Ranthia decided that she had heard enough. Ranthia threw three mirror images into the room, then as fast as her stats allowed, she charged into the room while the thugs were distracted and slashed the throats of every man in the room¡­ with a single exception. She ended her brief bit of violent brutality with the tips of both of her knives pressed under the talkative thug¡¯s eyes. She was much, much faster than she used to be, which meant that none of the thugs even got a chance to react with the sheer difference in level and class quality. ¡°So, you seem to know a lot of dangerous things that they should never have let you learn. How about this? You help me find evidence and take down this operation and snag aaaaall of your superiors. And, in return, I¡¯ll let you walk away. As far as anyone will ever know, everyone that had been in this room died. Sound good?¡± She made sure her tone was coldly chipper, positively dripping with the threat of further violence. The man made terrified noises of affirmation, unable to even slightly move his head without blinding himself on her knives. The hour was beyond just late and Ranthia faced few obstacles as she travelled about town with her helpful thug. It seemed that neither the tavern owner nor the mayor had been able to trust anyone else, since each man kept detailed records that condemned everyone else involved. Even better, the governor was obviously a complete idiot, since there was a completely damning copy of a [Signed] contract that bore all three of their names. A contract to provide slaves at a certain quota per 24-day period for the governor to dispose of or make use of as he saw fit, with certain price minimum guarantees. The thug that escorted Ranthia had known, at least generally, where to find records and even helped her avoid patrols and traps; the man was going all out to prove himself useful. And honestly, Ranthia had far lower expectations for any evidence. Still, now that she had what she needed to crush the conspiracy, it was time to act quickly before her presence was discovered. First, Ranthia coldly drove her knife through the heart of the helpful thug. There was no remorse in her¡ªhe was a kidnapping piece of shit that she had been forced to listen to while he whined about not being allowed to have his way with her unconscious body. She had never intended to honor the deal that she made. Second, Ranthia carried the evidence up to where her true body waited and carefully secured it into her backpack. Carrying it on her person sounded like a terrible idea for so many reasons. With that done, she was ready to capture the parties involved. The tavern owner was easy to grab, the man was out like a candle and had no personal security. Ranthia grabbed him then hit him with the various powders that he kept in his room until she finally found the one that was presumably used to drug her. Once he was unconscious, she dragged him out to the mayor¡¯s manor and found a reinforced, enclosed wagon that could be sealed from the outside; most likely what they used to transport the slaves that they kidnapped. And because things had gone far too smoothly, while she was in the middle of throwing the tavern owner into the wagon four of the corrupt city guard showed up, naturally. ¡°Hold it right there and unhand the citizen!¡± The highest-leveled guard¡ªlevel 180 and level 121 was actually kind of impressive for a small-town guard¡ªdemanded. ¡°Yeah, I already know you¡¯re all guilty and involved in this damned slavery ring. Counter-offer: surrender, disarm, and get in the damned wagon of your own free will. I¡¯m not feeling particularly merciful right now.¡± Ranthia retorted icily, even as she drew her knives. ¡°Guilty? Around these parts we make the rules, and we say you¡¯re the guilty one!¡± Honestly, as far as final words went, Ranthia had heard better. The men charged her, batons drawn, while she sent an image behind them. None of them noticed, but she hesitated before she got very far into her channel. [Reflections of Reality] was expensive, her arcanite was tapped out, and there were likely far greater challenges remaining. That or she just wanted to see how she fared against the four guards. The idea of being entitled to draw her blades on those that were in Pallos¡¯ worst occupation brought a smile to her face as the clash was joined. Instinctively, Ranthia went with her dance-inspired movements as she parried the first baton. Her footwork brought her clear of the arc of the second, which allowed her to press her attack on the highest-leveled guardsman. It was easier than she expected. She had even managed to disarm him before his fellows drove her back. The man even lacked the sense to go for his baton and tried to throw a kick her way instead. Ranthia, quite reasonably, stabbed his leg in response. The man screamed and Ranthia hurriedly smashed his nose with the butt of her other knife to silence him. [*ding!* You have slain a [Corrupt Guardsman] (Wood, level 180), [Easily Bribed] (Metal, level 121)!] She hadn¡¯t meant to kill him with that (it was a stunning blow!), but it wasn¡¯t like she felt guilty either¡ªeven before she saw his classes. At least that explained why he was so awful at being a guard. Ranthia wove between the other guards while they pressed the attack. [Blades of Darkness] let her cleave through the lowest leveled guard¡¯s baton. He instead tried to hit her with the guard buff, but Ranthia ignored it while she pressed the attack on another. At the moment neither the vitality nor the decrease in her mana regeneration really mattered to her; she was fighting efficiently, and they didn¡¯t have the numbers to overwhelm her with buffs. Before the last guard managed to become a nuisance, she had knocked out¡ªproperly that time¡ªthe man that she had aggressively attacked. The last guard tried to take her out with a Skill-empowered strike, but she danced clear and disarmed him while his swing carved through the air. Though perhaps she could have phrased it as unhanding him, given his wrist ended in a bloody stump once she was done. ¡°Sooo, you two want to push your luck, or will you go ahead and surrender now?¡± Ranthia offered to the two men that were still on their feet. The wagon was very full. Ranthia had located plenty of rope and so everyone that she captured was tightly bound and gagged, nice and secure, within the wagon. Every surviving member of the town guard, the tavern owner, and the mayor¡¯s private security detail (that swiftly decided they were not being paid enough to fight an A-Ranked Adventurer) were already secured within the wagon. As dawn broke over the city, Ranthia approached the wagon with the mayor. ¡°You can¡¯t do this to me! I am the mayor and on my authority¡ªgranted by the Senate!¡ªI demand you release me immediately!¡± The man snarled impotently. ¡°Oh! What an impressive show of power. ...Unfortunately, it doesn¡¯t seem to be very effective. I mean Xaoc isn¡¯t telling me that I need to comply and I¡¯m pretty sure the Senate¡¯s going to revoke whatever paltry authority you possessed soon enough. So... good luck in there!¡± Ranthia quipped moments before she unlatched the wagon and punted the overweight man into it. She could have gagged him, yes. But she was reasonably certain he¡¯d just piss off his former allies if she let him flap his gums. It was petty, but she was in a petty mood. With that, she had everyone that was involved in the plot¡ªto the best of her knowledge¡ªin her custody¡­ at least for this town. Next, Ranthia returned to her original body before she paid a visit to the tiny courier guild and, to get them focused, offered 8 rods to send their fastest runner to find the nearest group of Rangers and give them a letter that she wrote. The letter asked them to meet her in the governor¡¯s city and explained the full situation, with a quick summary of the evidence that she had. Along with a charcoal rub of her guild symbol, since she was optimistic that at least one of the Rangers would be able to recognize that she was A-Ranked and, ideally, find that compelling. Continuing to learn how to read and write had finally started to pay off! She probably could have written the letter more concisely or clearly if she was a bit better at it, but at least it was (probably) coherent. With that done, Ranthia rounded up a couple of horses, hitched them to her prisoner wagon¡ªafter ensuring her captives were still bound and back there (and hey, they hadn¡¯t even killed the mayor yet, surprisingly)¡ªand set off for the governor¡¯s estate. Ranthia hyped herself up for a big showdown with the governor as she single-handedly stormed his estate and carved her way through until she reached the archvillain. She had dinged level 128 in [Sudden End]¡ªfinally¡ªwhile she fought the group of guards, but a ballad-worthy feat like that was certain to improve her class qualities. Naturally, the Ranger team that received her letter had arrived ahead of her. Somewhat grudgingly, Ranthia turned over all of the evidence that she gathered and walked them through it. Then she had to transfer her prisoners over to the surprised¡ªor maybe slightly annoyed¡ªRangers. Then the grim-faced group of seven men geared up while they negotiated with and, ultimately, paid her (a somewhat insulting amount, honestly) to guard the prisoner wagon along with their own while they handled the raid of the governor¡¯s estate. But at least one of them tossed her his Ranger badge when she asked what she should do if the city guard tried to get involved. She could invoke their authority! Which meant any guards that tried to force the issue could be handled as she saw fit. Which meant that Xaoc truly smiled upon her. She had been granted the right to fight guards for a second time! Ranthia watched while the group of men¡ªand two wolves¡ªheaded for the governor¡¯s estate, then braced for her own fun. She was certain that the governor had loyalists that would seek to undermine the raid and she was ready to take them on. Instead, no one¡ªguard or otherwise¡ªapproached her until the Rangers returned. All too soon the governor was in a cell and the Rangers launched into an investigation of the local guardsmen. The leader of the Rangers was distracted, yet he still took the time to sincerely and very officially thank Ranthia for her service. Sadly, he wasn¡¯t quite absent-minded enough to let her walk away with his badge. It would have made a great souvenir. The Guildmaster debriefed her himself and seemed impressed by the speed with which she resolved the incident. Even if Ranthia was a bit distracted by daydreams about how many rods were being added to her vault while they spoke. She was rich! ...Okay, she was wealthier than she had ever been, at least. ¡­The only downside was that the report made it obvious that she had forgotten to go back to free the men that the slavers had captured. At least the Rangers knew about them and (hopefully) took care of them. Technically speaking, it hadn¡¯t been her job; though she still felt a bit guilty. ¡°What will you do now?¡± The Guildmaster asked once the debriefing was concluded. ¡°Going to take a bit of time off, I think. My birthday is in six days and it¡¯ll be good to spend some time with my girlfriend after I was gone for so long. Also, I just hit 128 in my second class at long last, so it¡¯s time to class up and see what else I can get in my kit.¡± Ranthia answered casually. ¡°Oh, what fortuitous timing. I still need more time, so I hadn¡¯t said anything yet. But I recommend that you hold off on classing up. I have been negotiating something that promises to offer significant class quality improvements for you and some of my other candidates.¡± With those ominous words, Ranthia left his office. Hexara wasn¡¯t big on gift giving, yet for Ranthia¡¯s eighteenth birthday she gifted Ranthia a choker¡ªdyed a beautiful shade of green¡ªthat had a single arcanite stone set in it. ¡°To help keep you safe.¡± Hexara had proudly explained. Ranthia wasn¡¯t going to be the one to tell her that the tiny stone only offered a small bit of extra mana; she appreciated the gesture for what it meant. She loved¡­ the gift. The fallout from Ranthia¡¯s job became quite a big deal. The news spread far and wide of the corrupt governor and the town that had turned predatory. Along with it, word spread that it was an Adventurer that cracked the case and that the Rangers had already written it off as the situation being above-board. Even the Emperor got involved and, apparently (not that Ranthia bothered to listen to it), gave some huge public speech about governors abusing their stations and the promise of new safeguards and inspections to ensure such abuses never occur again. Much more personal and weird though, was when Ranthia heard her name on the lips of a [Bard] that sang a song about the case. It wasn¡¯t a particularly heroic or epic song, nor was it particularly catchy, but... she was in [Bard] songs, and she had no idea how to feel about it. Not that the song got popular enough to last very long. Once again, Ranthia found herself in the Guildmaster¡¯s office. She was just checking the job board idly; she hadn¡¯t even been certain if she wanted to take a job at the moment! ¡°Tell me, what do you know about the Rangers?¡± The Guildmaster asked once the door was closed. ¡°The scourge of Adventurers. Every time a team rolls into town everyone pulls their jobs¡ªas if Rangers are going to help with rats in your storehouse or other minor things.¡± Ranthia replied flippantly. ¡°I¡¯m serious, what do you think of them?¡± The man replied. ¡°They¡¯re what keep the peace, I guess. They travel throughout Remus and resolve major incidents. Yeah, some of it is stuff Adventurers rightfully should get a crack at, but even as an A-Ranked I didn¡¯t want to try to do something like bring that governor to justice myself. Rangers are the best answer we have to things like corruption or other abuses.¡± Ranthia admitted stiffly. ¡°I see. Thank you for your time, that will be all for today.¡± The Guildmaster finally announced after an awkwardly long period of silence. What on Pallos had that been about? Book 1 - Chapter 30 - Advice Sought Ranthia staggered out of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild bright and early one morning, stunned beyond words. The Emperor himself¡ªor so it was claimed¡ªhad insisted on an additional reward for her role in uncovering the corrupt governor¡¯s plot. Ranthia had already received the largest single payday of her life for completing the job, but the government more than matched it. Ranthia had officially made more off that one job than she had throughout her entire solo Adventurer career. Ranthia just kind of numbly wandered the streets as she tried to process it. She had enough coin that the temptation to be gloriously reckless with it was hard to ignore. She could buy all the arcanite she needed! ¡­But no, she¡¯d have to get her armor completely redesigned to accommodate it, then she¡¯d be without it for who knew how long. Sure, she could get a new suit made, but she really loved her armor, even if a few Adventurers gave her crap about a lack of shoulder guards. As if thin studded leather pads were going to help against a dinosaur¡¯s teeth. Gods, she could actually afford her home if she had to pay for it, at least for a while. And there were a lot of painfully expensive amenities and services that she had never even tried¡­ She was being ridiculous, Ranthia told herself before she got too tempted. She wasn¡¯t about to let her newfound wealth change her! Jobs like that didn¡¯t exactly show up on the board every day after all. She was going to be completely reasonable and rational. ¡­If she had ever actually found a place in Ariminum where cats gathered, where she could play with them unimpeded, she would have probably bought a sack full of freshly caught fish just to prove herself wrong. Unfortunately, alleys in Ariminum tended to be controlled by street gangs or groups of young thieves. This left the local cats as mostly untrusting loners that popped up here or there and were almost always loath to allow her to even briefly touch them. Absent cat bonding time, Ranthia just kind of wandered aimlessly while she explored her own thoughts¡ªor remained thoroughly distracted by longing for feline companionship¡ªand soon wandered into the slums. She wasn¡¯t exactly worried; she was geared up and [Combat Awareness] kept her vigilant no matter how her mind meandered. Not that crime rates in the slums were really all that bad. Thieves avoided the area¡ªwhy steal from those who have nothing to take¡ªand most issues fell under domestic abuse or the rare street gang turf war. And street gang turf wars were rare because they tended to get both sides wiped out by the guards and local Rangers. So, no, Ranthia wasn¡¯t worried, instead she just allowed herself to wander. At least until she overheard a couple of nearby guards talking. Someone had been murdered, but what drew Ranthia¡¯s attention was that the guards were arguing about whether he was killed with knives or not. Idle curiosity narrowly beat out her sense and she made her way over. The guards looked up when she neared, so Ranthia tossed her Adventurer¡¯s Guild symbol to the nearest before she knelt by the body. ¡°Are¡­ you an expert on knife wounds?¡± The guard asked, confused. ¡°More of an enthusiast.¡± Ranthia answered glibly. She hadn¡¯t meant to be glib, but it just kind of slipped out. ¡°Wait¡­ A-Ranked, her age¡­ She¡¯s the one that caught the slavery ring. Let¡¯s hear her out.¡± The other guard whispered to the confused one, nowhere near quietly enough. Fame¡ªhowever brief¡ªagreed with her, it seemed. Even the guards liked her now! Ranthia suspected she could probably get away with walking through the richest districts in the city at that point. ¡­Not that she was going to test that either way. ¡°It¡¯s not a knife wound.¡± Ranthia finally decided after she finished studying the wounds. ¡°What¡ªErm, that is, could you explain what led you to learn that?¡± The formerly confused guard asked while his partner returned her Guild symbol. ¡°The uh,¡± the word victim escaped her for a moment (which might have slightly undermined her, but she rolled with it), ¡°dead guy was slashed so it¡¯s not super easy to tell, but the blade was way wider than even a military knife. Also, if you look carefully, the flesh deep inside the wound isn¡¯t cut, it¡¯s torn. My guess is he was killed by a broken sword or a sharp tool of some sort.¡± Not that she had much familiarity with tools other than bone needles for slapdash repairs for her tunics or former leather cloaks. The guards, at the very least, acted very impressed with her observations and promised to revise their search in light of her information, so Ranthia left in a chipper mood. She had been helpful and maybe¡ªmaybe¡ªwas finally developing a positive relationship with the guard! Her days of being arrested might just be over. Ranthia was still a solo Adventurer. She just hadn¡¯t clicked with any of the other Adventurers around the city, not that she had given any of them a fair shake. She had never even set foot in the Guild¡¯s training grounds¡ªlocated somewhere outside the city walls¡ªor grabbed a drink with any of her fellows. Tatius and Pupius were gone, but it just felt wrong to find another team. And yet Ranthia had volunteered to lead a team. It was a one-time thing; the others in the group were fresh C-Ranked youths (¡­that were her own age), so even if Ranthia wanted to, she couldn¡¯t properly team up with them. They just needed someone B-Ranked or higher to keep a job they had taken before their friend ended up in jail over a tavern brawl. Ranthia had, admittedly, volunteered mostly because the two men that were trying to take the job from them were complete assholes that had been petty little shits ever since Ranthia was promoted to A Rank. But honestly, she was having fun with the group. There were two boys and two girls¡ªand why was it such a struggle for Ranthia to refer to people her own age as men and women¡ªbut fortunately there were no weird romantic tensions or anything. The four were just old friends that grew up together, close buds that respected one another. The jokes flew non-stop as they made their way to the location, and it was just kind of a casual camping trip as far as Ranthia was concerned. It was kind of nostalgic, in a good way. The job was one of the rare investigative jobs that paid no matter what they found; just locals from a few farms a few days out from Ariminum were spooked by a strange noise almost every night and wanted to know what it was. None of them expected anything major out of the job and half of the jokes that they told were increasingly unlikely theories about what the sounds were. A young amorous couple sneaking off was boringly probable. A nocturnal dinosaur that was trapped and just complained at night was a bit silly, but it made a certain level of sense too. Ghosts were a chuckle-worthy bit of ridiculousness; there was no such thing. The idea that it was just some local who had a horrible singing voice practicing in secret was a delightful blend of probable and absurd. The suggestion that it was someone suffering noisy and extreme indigestion every night had briefly distracted them while they came up with explanations for that instead and laughed. The jokes only intensified when they finally arrived in the target area and moved through the woodlands. Three of the group carried lit torches to add a bit more light to the world beneath the full moons. Ranthia was unburdened, ready to react if she was needed; the last had his bow ready. Ranthia had just turned back to the group¡ªshe was in the lead¡ªready to make an extremely crass suggestion when they finally heard the sound. It was hard to define, echoing and ethereal. Ranthia had to admit, she had no idea what in Xaoc¡¯s name made such a haunting cry. The jokes stopped. Archer boy and the two girls had their game faces on, but the last boy seemed to be biting down his urge to suggest they abandon the job. The group¡ªmostly gamely¡ªpressed on, ready for anything. ¡­Not that it mattered. They spent more time trying to explain the sound than they spent finding or resolving it. Next to a pond was a depression dug into a hill. The hill itself was the source of the sound. There was a tiny hole that faced the pond, then the larger opening on the other side. Every time the seasonal wind blew over the pond the sound emerged from the hollow. Resolving it was simple enough, they just plugged the hole with mud and clay. Trying to explain why the sound only happened at night took them the entire night. When a raccoon walked right past them¡ªcompletely indifferent to their presence¡ªbefore it hopped into its den and shoved its butt back against the plugged hole, they finally had their answer. Not all jobs were covered in glory. In the aftermath of her job with the kids¡ªpeople her own age, whatever¡ªRanthia finally decided that sometimes signing on with other groups wasn¡¯t too awful. Hexara was thrilled every time she did, which helped. ¡­But Ranthia was still mostly a solo Adventurer. She fought and bled solo against beasts and monsters. She explored woodlands and recovered lost objects or precious plants. She even took down a wanted classer. And she did it all alone. But she still took the occasional job with other Adventurers too. Ranthia was certain that she had thoroughly proven that she deserved her place among the A-Ranked. Even if she had burned the good will she once had with the guards. Seriously, just because she knifed one scumbag in the city limits without a job issued¡­ Then bright and early one morning Ranthia left her room to find an exhausted runner from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild waiting for her. The man wearily shoved a scroll in her general direction before he dashed off without further explanation, while Ranthia was trusted to catch the message he left in his wake. The scroll, in neat handwriting, simply asked her to report to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild at noon for an important meeting. It was in that indeterminate period between winter and spring when the temperatures tended to swing, yet some early blooms were already painting the air with a sweet scent that almost managed to freshen up the omnipresent stink of the big city. Not that Remus ever got very cold, but Ranthia was impatient for spring; it was her favorite season even before her birthday factored in. Ranthia remained uncertain throughout her morning whether she was even going to attend the stupid meeting. She¡¯d been moody for a while since Hexara had been swamped with work, which had greatly limited the time they spent together for several days at that point. Sunrise was great; honestly the runner was lucky she hadn¡¯t spent the night at the brothel. ¡­But Ranthia wasn¡¯t in a relationship with the prostitute, so Sunrise made for a somewhat hollow replacement. Ranthia showed up. No matter how many excuses she considered and how annoyed she was at the concept of dealing with some likely formal meeting, she was also curious. And, in the end, her curiosity led her to the Guildhall just before noon. One of the clerks had just pointed at the largest meeting room, the one on the second floor of the Guildhall, and Ranthia soon found herself wedged in. There were a dozen other Adventurers present and, while Ranthia waited for things to begin, their numbers swelled up to sixteen. Four of them were A-Ranked, the rest were B-Ranked, and no one seemed to have any idea what this was about. Ranthia knew of most of the people in the room, though the only Adventurer she actually knew the name of was one of the other A-Ranked, Kaesios. AKA the other Mirror aspected A-Ranked Adventurer (who cares if he¡¯d been there for a couple of years before Ranthia even showed up, he was still ¡®the other¡¯). They had run a couple of jobs together and had something not entirely unlike friendship. Even if he still refused to introduce her to his very single and allegedly very attractive younger sister. Kaesios was dressed in a tunic and was bereft of his trademark sword¡ªa bizarre blade that was both much larger than most other swords Ranthia saw in Remus and much, much thinner than any blade Ranthia had ever seen. The man looked half awake (or possibly hungover), but Ranthia still found a spot next to him and forced him to engage her in conversation. ¡°Do you know what this is about?¡± Ranthia asked once he finally looked her way. ¡°Nope. Probably a mandatory group mission though, never like those.¡± He replied. Ranthia shrugged. If he didn¡¯t know, it was unlikely that anyone else present knew. Finally, the Guildmaster himself strolled in, while two clerks hurried after him. The Guildmaster wore a formal smile on his face that just promised that Ranthia was going to sorely regret attending. ¡°Welcome. Let me start this by pointing out that this is entirely optional, so if you decide to pass after you hear me out, that¡¯s fine. But, with that said, we have been given an opportunity to show Remus just how important and valuable the Adventurer¡¯s Guild is.¡± As far as openings went, Ranthia could hardly imagine one that would make her even more tempted to just immediately leave. This was not going to be a good meeting. ¡°As you all know, the legions have been deployed against a new threat, the shimagu. This war isn¡¯t like what we had with the formorians, it¡¯s not some casual game where we hold and slowly extend a line. It¡¯s a true war against a thinking, clever enemy.¡± Nope, no way. Ranthia was not going to take a job to go anywhere even tangentially related to the war zone. ¡°All of this means that the military has changed procedures. Before, the legions and their commanders were more than happy to allow their most promising soldiers to be poached, so that they might see better use. Instead, the generals have balked¡ªincreasingly loudly¡ªand insist that they require their future elites to stay with the army. This gives us an opportunity. You sixteen are my primary picks, though I will be adding others as needed to get to a full twenty-four, which includes replacing any of you that refuse¡­¡± Ranthia was on the cusp of voicing her refusal at whatever this was, before the man plowed on. ¡°I would like you all to take this opportunity that the Emperor has granted us. Remus is in desperate need of additional talent for its pool of prospective Rangers. Attend the Ranger Academy this year and show Remus that our Adventurers are an even better source of power and professional capability than the legions ever were!¡± Ranthia was stunned. That was not where she was expecting this to go! Bedlam erupted as different opinions spewed forth from the gathered Adventurers. Even Kaesios seemed to overcome his stupor as he shouted out his own queries and thoughts, though Ranthia just kind of remained in her own shocked silence. Which made her unique, as far as the room went. Even the clerks that were just there to support the Guildmaster and hand him things or whisper to him were more involved in the discussions than Ranthia was. The Guildmaster answered questions that Ranthia only half heard. She couldn¡¯t even remember in the aftermath if the other Adventurers had seemed interested or not. About all she pulled from the rest of the meeting was that they had time to make up their minds. By what Ranthia assumed to be a fluke, the deadline to give their decision was the morning after Ranthia¡¯s birthday. Ranthia would either continue as she had been or she would try to become a Ranger, a path that she had never even really considered. And in all honesty, she wasn¡¯t looking forward to trying to figure it out. Several days later, Ranthia found herself on an urgent job. A black-mark job, a mission to deal with other Adventurers that had gone rogue and betrayed the Guild. A group of four men had robbed and murdered the wealthy kid they were escorting, and the Guild wasn¡¯t going to tolerate it¡ªand yes Ranthia was, for the first time, glad that Tatius and Pupius had refused to listen when she wanted to kill the idiotic merchant that gave them the wrong city repeatedly. The team was the four best that the Guildmaster could locate quickly. Ranthia, The Slasher of Goblins (groan); Kaesios, The Sword of Infinity; Whatshisfacewiththebird, the Rockfall; and the guild¡¯s alleged top A-Ranked in Remus who presumably had a name, Groundpound. The worst part was listening to bird guy complain about his title. Seriously, as if Rockfall was anywhere near being in the league of ¡®the Slasher of Goblins¡¯ when it came to bad names. Ranthia, instead, tried to turn the conversation to what the three men thought of the whole Ranger thing. ¡°I wish I could, but I had to bow out. My partner¡¯s wings bother her too much in the winter.¡± Rockfall complained while he pointed up to the giant owl that circled them from above. And yes, it was giant; any bird with a wingspan as wide as Ranthia was tall was a giant, even if there were much larger birds in Pallos. ¡°I¡¯m going for it.¡± Kaesios announced. ¡°Really? You?¡± Ranthia just blinked in shock. ¡°Oi, don¡¯t be an ass! It¡¯s a great opportunity.¡± The man grumbled. And birdguy was nodding along with him. ¡°Why?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Even the ones that complete their little training academy and don¡¯t get picked go far in life. That alone is worth it, but the pay is competitive even for A-Ranked Adventurers. ¡­And, yeah, the ladies love a man in uniform.¡± Groundpound ignored them, which wasn¡¯t surprising. He hadn¡¯t been in the meeting, and he had barely even spoken to them as they pursued the rogue Adventurers.Stolen novel; please report. Still, they were making good time as they sprinted down the roads. The birdkeeper with the non-terrible alias seemed to be under the impression that they would soon catch up. Ranthia sprinted along with the others while she considered Kaesios¡¯ words. ¡°I¡¯m just still not sure if it¡¯s for me. I mean I¡¯d love to travel again but I jus¡ª¡± Ranthia suddenly stopped midsentence as she threw herself to the side. [Combat Awareness] didn¡¯t give her enough of a heads up to avoid having to hit the ground, but that was infinitely preferable to taking either arrow in the chest. Ranthia rolled back and scrambled behind a tree, even as the other three sprang into action. ¡°[Healer].¡± Groundpound shouted before he smashed his massive shield into the ground and rocketed away, pulled by the shield as the ground yanked it forward. Ranthia wasn¡¯t entirely sure if he was warning them there was a [Healer], ordering them to focus on the [Healer], or saying he was on the [Healer]. Learn to communicate better! But she had gotten secure and concluded her channel, so she shifted to a fresh image that ran out from behind the tree¡ªno sense in advertising that her true body was still there¡ªwith her knives drawn. Kaesios was living up to his alias, his big sword was in hand and Mirage copies of it surrounded him as he hacked at a speedster that was hard pressed to avoid every slash; clearly the target knew that more than one blade in there was real. Birdguy¡¯s owl was diving toward the archer that had attempted to kill Ranthia, bombarding him with rocks while he tried to escape the tree he was in. Unfortunately, this left Ranthia facing the rogues¡¯ tank. The man was shorter than she was, but he was armed with the traditional shield and spear. Ranthia loved her knives, but spears and shields were both bad matchups for her. She lacked the reach or the force to counter either, at least conventionally. Fortunately for her, she wasn¡¯t just a [Warrior]. Ranthia parried and danced around the man¡¯s spear thrusts, as she tried to bait him into complacency. Then she sent out images on either side of the man. ¡°Boo.¡± The one on his left taunted. Moments before the one on the right activated [Blades of Darkness] and lashed out at his flank. [*ding!* [Echoes Reflected] has reached level 91!] [*ding!* [Mirrored Moves] has reached level 62!] The man leapt away from the image that seemed to be attacking while he put his spear through the image that had spoken. Ranthia took advantage of the moment of vulnerability and lashed out with both knives, each empowered with [Blades of Darkness] and [Cross Strike]. [*ding!* [Cross Strike] has reached level 101!] The spear¡¯s head and almost a third of its shaft splintered off as Ranthia carved through. Her opponent made a final, fatal miscalculation and focused wholly on Ranthia while he ignored her last image, determined to beat her to death with what was left of his spear¡¯s shaft. Ranthia simply dodged while she concluded her channel, then shifted to the ignored image while her former one tried to flee. Moments later, her knives were buried in the sides of the man¡¯s neck. That made three kill notifications, which meant¡­ Nope, Kaesios finished his fight¡ªand earned them their fourth kill notification¡ªbefore anyone decided to intervene. Ranthia even had to dodge the head that got launched her way, which had to be intentional! Yet another job was complete, yet Ranthia felt less certain than ever about what she wanted to do. She loved being an Adventurer, and yet she had begun to feel stagnant as one¡­ Oh Xaoc, how she wished for a sign. Having her [Warrior] class countered by an opponent with one of the most common equipment loadouts in Remus put yet another question into Ranthia¡¯s head. If she intended to become a Ranger, that was (probably) what the Guildmaster had told her to wait for before she classed up [Sudden End]. Which meant that she had a narrow window of time to revisit whether or not she wanted to keep her class focused on knives. They had served her well, but she wasn¡¯t a kid anymore. The lack of reach was occasionally problematic. It had never gotten her killed (obviously) and it wasn¡¯t like she could discount what [Shards of Reflection] gave her as options, but¡­ Were knives really the best fit for her? [Sudden End] was wholly knife-dependent, but if she worked hard, she could set the foundation for a broader class up. On the one hand, narrowly focused classes tended to get better class quality and more potent and efficient skills. On the other, she might have enough time to break certain skills to force them to accept, for example, short swords. The skill would lose several levels, but if she entered the Ranger Academy she had time. Part of her kind of liked the idea of taking a dual short sword style. It was slightly more practical, and it would allow her to honor Pupius¡¯ memory, even if she had no intention of becoming a speedster. But¡­ At the same time, Ranthia wasn¡¯t enamored with the feel of practicing with dual short swords. They felt sluggish and clumsy compared to the unerring precision of her knives. Part of that was a proficiency bias¡ªalong with [Knives & War] being such a specialized skill¡ªbut Ranthia still struggled to find optimism for the idea of such a radical change. Still, it was something else to consider. ¡°I need advice.¡± ¡°Look both ways before you cross streets with wagon lanes. A bit of grease or butter will help your meat not stick to the pan. A well-applied kind word can make someone¡¯s day, but an equally well-applied bit of cruelty can haunt them for the rest of their life. And no, that tunic is not flattering on you.¡± Ranthia just groaned and eyed the [Priest] until he raised his arms in surrender. She had checked the temple multiple times over the past couple of days, yet he seemed to be the only [Priest] or [Priestess] of Xaoc that she could find, and she certainly wasn¡¯t going to ask Xaoc Himself about her path. Finally, she had caved and approached the young (still not young) [Priest] and, surprise surprise, she was already regretting it. ¡°Fine, fine, you¡¯re not in the mood. I can take a hint! Meet me at the bench behind the temple shortly.¡± The [Priest] in service to Xaoc offered before he vanished into the back part of the temple. Ranthia paused to kneel in front of one of the unoccupied altars to her god and allowed Him to take part of her mana, though she didn¡¯t actually do much more than greet Xaoc, before she rose and made her way out to the bench. The wait was on the cusp of becoming obnoxious when the man finally plopped onto the bench next to Ranthia and handed her a wineskin. Ranthia took a drink from it while he waited with a serene smile for her to begin. ¡°I¡¯m struggling to decide my path from here.¡± Ranthia began, suddenly self-conscious. ¡°Most people begin that process with a map. Many couriers keep decent ones that customers may examine for a small fee.¡± The [Priest] answered. ¡°Please, this is important.¡± Ranthia had so many regrets already. ¡°Very well, I shall grant you my utmost attention and shall strive to be as serious and helpful as any man possibly ever could be. Up to 80% focused!¡± He offered with a broad, yet benevolent smile. ¡°Gods and goddesses, why couldn¡¯t I find another [Priest] or [Priestess]?¡± Ranthia grumbled. ¡°Shit timing, probably.¡± The young (practically middle-aged) man answered with a sage nod. Sure enough, Ranthia was all but certain that she could hear another [Priest] welcome a family to the temple while she tried to summon the willpower required to continue to deal with seeking advice from the whimsical [Priest] she was stuck with. ¡°Okay, fine. Just listen for a bit, I¡¯ll tell you when you can talk, okay? I love being an Adventurer, it fits me, it¡¯s comfortable. But at the same time, I feel like I¡¯m stagnating. I lo¡ªenjoy my time with my girlfriend¡­ at least when she has time for me, and my home is amazing. But I don¡¯t get out there and explore anymore, not really. ¡°I was offered an opportunity to join the Rangers, but I can¡¯t figure out if that sounds like me. It¡¯s a commitment and I just¡­ I don¡¯t know. It shakes up the monotony that I¡¯ve fallen into, but is it truly a path forward? ¡°As is, I constantly worry that I¡¯m not doing enough to add chaos to our world. Xaoc¡¯s never turned His back to me when I pray to Him, but¡­ Am I disappointing Him? If I become a Ranger I might have even less opportunity to add a bit of chaos, since I¡¯d be an ¡®official¡¯. ¡°I just¡­ I don¡¯t even know how to think about this opportunity.¡± Ranthia finished her surge of rapid-fire concerns then sighed. She looked to the [Priest] who watched her with rapt attention. After a moment she realized what he was waiting for and gestured for him to speak. So, of course, the man instead seemed to collapse inward into deep thought. Ranthia was on the cusp of cursing at him when he suddenly spoke. ¡°Do you know what I¡¯d call someone who unleashed chaos every single day?¡± ¡°Fun at parties?¡± Ranthia quipped in a dry tone. The [Priest] blinked, considered her words, then nodded. ¡°Okay, do you know what would be among the earliest things I said about such a person?¡± He amended. Ranthia just gestured for him to continue, certain that whatever she guessed would somehow be wrong. ¡°Orderly.¡± The young [Priest] concluded. Ranthia just kind of blinked owlishly at him while she tried to make sense of the aspersion. How in Xaoc¡¯s name¡­?! ¡°I thought I would have to explain. You seem somewhat slow for someone so thoroughly fondled by great Xaoc.¡± He blew right past her angry objections and continued. ¡°Chaos isn¡¯t something that can be scheduled, not consistently. Sure, a bit of premeditation can add chaos to the world, but much of it is grasping opportunities as they arise. But someone who inflicts measured chaos on a schedule? Someone that grasps every single opportunity? They¡¯re not chaotic¡ªthey embraced predictablenessocity. Honestly, such a person is practically a politician.¡± Ranthia opened her mouth to argue, but she shut it and forced herself to truly consider his words. She was mostly certain that he wasn¡¯t trying to just rile her up¡ªsacrilegious sexual harassment jokes aside¡ªbut it was hard to consider. Chaos¡­ orderly? The [Priest] watched with naked amusement while she grappled with the contradiction. It boiled at her blood, but a lot of what he said rang true. Chaos couldn¡¯t become routine, or it was no longer chaos. But what of the effects that it wrought, would that still hold true if each bit of chaos had a different impact? Maybe. Ranthia landed on a maybe. She was about to voice her thought processes when he spoke again. ¡°Chaos is best delivered through whim and whimsy, I say. And if you think an official can¡¯t unleash some damned impressive chaos, well, you need to work on your imagination. Or pay more attention to the political landscape.¡± ¡°You¡¯re really fixated on politics right now, aren¡¯t you?¡± Ranthia asked wryly. ¡°I have a list of senators that I suspect might secretly be agents of Xaoc. Would you like to hear my unrehearsed theories? I bet I could keep you here until dawn.¡± ¡°Gods no. Fine, I¡¯ll try to stop fretting about the chaos I add to the world, but what about the rest?¡± ¡°Everyone adds a bit of chaos every day, even if you can¡¯t see it. That¡¯s part of life; never forget Xaoc had a hand in the creation of our people. That said, as for the rest¡­ I have no advice!¡± Why did he seem to be proud of that?! ¡°Seriously?¡± Ranthia glowered. ¡°Young lady, I¡¯ll have you know that I have never been serious a day in my life.¡± Was the smug response that she received. Ranthia glared until he finally rolled his eyes and relented. ¡°Ugh, if I have to be boring about it: I don¡¯t know enough to help you. I know you believe there¡¯s some dramatic difference between Adventurers and Rangers, but for me¡ªa thoroughly urbanized being¡ªthey¡¯re basically the same damned thing. You¡¯re paid to solve problems others can¡¯t; the only difference is who¡¯s footing the bill. And that¡¯s about all I know. ¡°Frankly, I doubt Xaoc gives a single fragrant buttfruit which path you walk. Find choice opportunities for some enriching chaos and you¡¯re golden, simple as that. Don¡¯t seek a higher power on this one; get your focus back down to Pallos. Consult your friends or your lovers or whomever tolerates you to some extent if you¡¯re as unlikable as I suspect.¡± The [Priest] took back the wineskin and drank heavily from it, before he offered it back to her. Ranthia took it and drank heavily as she forced herself to admit the man¡ªonce again¡ªhad a point. She might not be able to make up her mind until she finally got to spend some godsdamned time with her girlfriend. And¡­ that was fine, wasn¡¯t it? The whole point of a relationship was making the big decisions as a team. ¡°Alright, fair enough. ¡­I am grateful for your advice, even if you were an asshole. And, of course, I appreciate the wine.¡± Ranthia finally offered with a grin that was only slightly forced. ¡°No problem. You gave me some time to get some fresh air, if nothing else. As for the wine, I just drained a bit from the cask we were going to offer to Xaoc during the evening¡¯s services, so direct your gratitude to Him.¡± The [Priest] casually confessed. ¡°You¡­ WHAT?!¡± ¡°Relax! His faithful sharing the wine is mostly just as good as Him having it for Himself.¡± The young (fully adult) [Priest] promised, before he reached over to try to pat Ranthia on the head. In a fit of absolute maturity in the face of her outrage, Ranthia bit his hand. At long, long last Hexara finally had a day off. Ranthia was curious about what had changed that had her girlfriend so busy, but instead Ranthia promised to avoid talking about work. Hexara arrived bright and early at Ranthia¡¯s place, and they focused just on enjoying one another¡¯s company. Ranthia had purchased a delightfully scented oil (spicy cinnamon!) and happily gave her girlfriend some tender affectionate care, starting with the best full body massage she could give. Ranthia had no Skills for it, but she had learned a lot of tricks from Sunrise. After the massage and other acts of intimacy and affection, Ranthia splurged on ordering food from the Owl¡¯s Sanctuary for lunch. Neither of them felt much like getting dressed and going out, after all. Though the fact that the food was good enough that Ranthia was starting to consider the price reasonable was terrifying. She was so determined to not let money change her! It toed the line for her promise, in Ranthia¡¯s eyes, but Ranthia finally spoke while they ate their grilled lamb. ¡°I¡­ wanted to get your opinion about something.¡± Ranthia led in. ¡°Mm, this must be important. You¡¯ve been spoiling me so hard I was half expecting you to ask me to marry you.¡± Hexara teased playfully. Ranthia blushed a deep scarlet but pushed forward. ¡°Well, no, but it does affect my¡ªour¡ªfuture.¡± Ranthia was thrilled to see her girlfriend¡¯s face blush, even as Hexara hurriedly refilled her wine goblet. ¡°The Guildmaster asked a group of us to consider joining Remus¡¯ Rangers¡­¡± Ranthia trailed off as she tried to figure out how she wanted to summarize it. ¡°I think you should go for it.¡± Hexara immediately replied, before Ranthia could continue. Ranthia kind of stared blankly at her very [Sexy] girlfriend for several long moments before she remembered to use her words. ¡°Wait, really? I mean, I¡¯ll be around even less than I already am. They have some sort of training camp that takes two years, plus each round as a Ranger is two years away from Ariminum.¡± ¡°Yeah, the time apart¡­ isn¡¯t great, but the important thing is you¡¯d be safe. Rangers are a whole team! A few of my clients are in relationships with Rangers and they make it work, I¡¯m sure we can figure that out too. And besides, didn¡¯t you once say that A-Ranked Adventurers were practically equal to the Sentinels? You might be able to skip some of the training if that¡¯s true. ¡°But the important thing is you wouldn¡¯t be alone out there. I wouldn¡¯t lose sleep worrying about whether or not you were safe. You¡¯d have a full team at your back and Rangers are supposed to be unbeatable. You would be much safer as a Ranger than you are as an Adventurer.¡± Guilt wormed into Ranthia; she hadn¡¯t quite realized how hard Hexara took her occupation sometimes. Her heart ached to know that her girlfriend had lost sleep worrying over her safety. Ranthia reached out and Hexara slid her hands into Ranthia¡¯s. Hexara¡¯s hands were so warm and so soft¡­ Ranthia exhaled slowly and collected her thoughts. Honestly, she had doubts about whether or not being a Ranger was any safer. The death rate of experienced Adventurers was lower than one might expect, due in large part to being able to choose jobs that they believed they could handle. Rangers, on the other hand, often had far less flexibility to choose jobs that fit their skillsets. Though she did have to admit, Hexara had a point about the value of a real team. Tatius and Pupius had covered for one another¡¯s weaknesses and vulnerabilities, and her own budding abilities had further improved the balance of their team (gods and goddesses, she still wished that they had gotten to see how her skillset improved). Yes, [Scattered Reflections], as empowered by her other 7 class skills, was a downright absurd ability. So long as she stowed her true body somewhere safe, she was almost untouchable unless she was killed outright before she could react. But that ¡®if¡¯ was a hell of a limitation. With another group, especially a relatively large one that knew and trusted one another implicitly¡­ She might just be safer, even with the loss of agency. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of reasons to do it, but I¡¯d miss you¡­¡± Ranthia whispered. They kissed. ¡°I¡¯ll be here when you¡¯re around; I¡¯m not going anywhere. And we¡¯re both still young! Two years for your training thing¡ªthat I still bet you¡¯ll be able to visit me during¡ªand then two years on the road; it¡¯s almost nothing. And who knows, maybe I¡¯ll start training myself so if I fail to convince you to stick around after that I could follow you around and be a hanger-on that helps keep you as [Sexy] as possible.¡± Hexara suggested playfully. She was focused and passionate at the beginning, but she was clearly joking by the end. Ranthia stole a piece of lamb off Hexara¡¯s platter while she considered it, enjoying her girlfriend¡¯s playful protests until she fed Hexara a piece off her own plate. It was a lot to consider, but her girlfriend made some great points. She was really leaning towards doing it. So, it turned out that Hexara had been so busy because she was collecting favors. Ranthia continued taking jobs¡ªthough maybe less obviously risky ones¡ªuntil the time finally came. Hexara had taken eight days in a row off for work, culminating in Ranthia¡¯s birthday. At first it was just more time spent together, which was incredible. It was a taste of what life could be like for them and Ranthia was hooked. They just had fun and took in entertainment around Ariminum. Ranthia had assumed the slice of bliss was her birthday present, up until the actual day. It turned out that Hexara had finally gotten over her embarrassment about her interest in the brothel and her¡­ transactional friendship with Sunrise. The two had collaborated and planned for Ranthia¡¯s birthday itself. The day was incredible, unforgettable, and excessively debauched. The only downside was Ranthia didn¡¯t have anyone she could brag about it to! Everyone that she had the tiniest bit of interest in sharing anything about such aspects of her life with had been involved! ¡­And then some! Ranthia had always known that Hexara was amazing, but by Xaoc she had outdone herself! ¡°It¡¯s not like you to be late.¡± The Guildmaster chided the instant Ranthia arrived in his office. Ranthia¡¯s hair was a mess, her tunic was tousled, and she wasn¡¯t even slightly convinced that the scented ointments and oils hid the olfactory evidence of what she had been up to. ¡°Um, sorry, it was my birthday and¡­¡± Ranthia trailed off, unwilling to further explain. She had no idea if the Guildmaster¡¯s expression meant he wanted her to explain how that could excuse her tardiness or if it meant he had no interest in hearing an excuse. She chose to assume the latter. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ve decided¡­ I¡¯ll do it. I¡¯ll become a Ranger.¡± Ranthia announced confidently.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 19]
[Mana: 15690/15690]
[Mana Regen Rate: 10064]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 0]
[Strength: 459]
[Dexterity: 1837]
[Vitality: 1189]
[Speed: 1115]
[Mana: 1569]
[Mana Regeneration: 1982]
[Magic Power: 1501]
[Magic Control: 1170]
[Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (221)]]
[Mirror Spirit: 221]
[Scattered Reflections: 221]
[Echoes Reflected: 96]
[Reflective Motility: 221]
[Persistent Imagery: 197]
[Mirrored Moves: 63]
[Distorted Likeness: 84]
[Reflections of Reality: 63]
[Class 2: [Sudden End ¨C Dark (128)] + ]
[Dark Affinity: 128]
[Knives & War: 128]
[Blades of Darkness: 128]
[Critical Strike: 119]
[Shadowed Steps: 121]
[Strengthen Blade: 128]
[Cross Strike: 106]
-
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Divine-Touched Identify: 221]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 63]
[Soups & Stews: 186]
[Dodging: 221]
[Combat Awareness: 221]
[Fast Learner: 103]
[Image Recall: 133]
[Sexy: 200]
Book 1 - Chapter 31 - Academy I It didn¡¯t take much time, but Ranthia¡¯s belongings had been packed away and put into storage. There was no way for her to carry out her contract with the Owl¡¯s Sanctuary while she was at the Ranger Academy, even if her heart wanted to break at the idea of giving the place up. It had been her home, the first she truly had (Perinthus so didn¡¯t count). Hexara let her stay over for the last couple of days before she had to head out though, which was amazing. That much Ranthia could definitely get used to. The day had finally arrived. The summer solstice had come and gone, yet each day after it had felt longer than the last. Ranthia was armored and geared up before she finally relented and allowed Hexara to apply some light makeup and fix up her hair, though she had adamantly refused full treatment. There was no reason to be all dolled up and nicely scented when she was headed to a bootcamp! The light paint on her lips ended up wiping off when they kissed goodbye anyway. The goodbyes, of course, lingered. Ranthia faced two years of academy life. Hexara had remained optimistic that there would be breaks¡ªfrequent ones for Ranthia¡¯s level¡ªwhere Ranthia would be allowed to return to the city, but privately Ranthia still strongly doubted it. She wasn¡¯t about to crush her girlfriend¡¯s ambitions for them to have more time together though. Farewells made, Ranthia made her way into the governmental end of the city. She¡¯d scouted the path previously so that she wouldn¡¯t get lost on her way to Ranger¡¯s Headquarters. Ranthia had to show the guards the scroll that served as her admissions pass to the Ranger Academy and allow a healer to jab her with his entire fist (was that seriously necessary?!) before she finally received directions to an oddly nameless room. The nameless room was massive¡ªit could seat several hundred¡ªwith an enormous, important-looking stone wall at its far end. Even with her vitality, it was hard to make out details about it, since she ended up towards the back of the other trainees gathered. There were so many men and women crammed in that Ranthia couldn¡¯t even find any of the other Adventurers. Twenty-some-odd (she had no idea if the Guildmaster had managed to get 24 to say yes) out of over four hundred made for challenging odds when it came to spotting familiar faces. ¡°Welcome, new Ranger Academy recruits! It is my honor to welcome all of you to the class of 4808!¡± An impressively loud man called from the podium. ¡­Or maybe less impressively than she thought; his main class was a Sound-aspected [Warrior], [Divine-Touched Identify] reported. It explained the volume, even if it left Ranthia curious about what sort of build he used. [Divine-Touched Identify] was, fortunately, more ¡®intelligent¡¯ than its nature as a passive would have suggested, so her field of vision wasn¡¯t just a sea of class types and elements. She had to pay attention to someone (or a larger group) to get the information to appear. ¡­Which speaking of, after she surveyed the group of prospective Ranger Trainees, she was pretty sure she knew where in the crowd the other A-Ranked adventurers were. They stuck out a bit, level-wise, compared to the others present. ¡°You will all be taught by our chosen instructors, assisted by Ranger Team 1 and, when they have time, even the Sentinels themselves. Consider yourselves fortunate, recruits! Each and every one of them will work tirelessly to give each of you a chance to learn the skills you need to survive out there! Do not squander anything! ¡°You are the best recruits that Remus has to offer. Some of you went through a grueling pre-selection process! Others of you have lived that process for years of your lives and come to us forged through other crucibles! From this moment on, that no longer matters! Each of you here today must prove yourselves anew as you struggle to become one of Remus¡¯ elite ¨C a Ranger! ¡°Right now, there are 427 of you! Less than a quarter of that number will make it to graduation and even then, there will be several graduates that will not make the cut to become a Ranger. If you fail or are not selected, you can always re-enroll in two years, once you¡¯ve trained yourself further. So do not despair! Do not give up! If you are in this room, you have the potential to become a Ranger!¡± The group roared with approval, with Ranthia¡¯s slightly less enthusiastic voice joined into the sea of sound. A different man stepped forward, as the Commander that had given the speech fell back. The new man was short but had the lean, hard build of a man that had long forged his body in dangerous situations. ¡°Trainees, on me! We move!¡± There was a bit of chaos. Some trainees lined up in neat, orderly military lines. Others flailed about as they failed to come into formation. ¡­Ranthia took a certain amount of Xaoc-inspired pride in the fact that the Adventurers found each other and made everything worse. They had naturally formed a wedge formation¡ªeminently more practical than an idiotic square of neat marching targets¡ªamid the other trainees. Ranthia and the three other A-Ranked formed the tip of the wedge. The trainees jogged at a surprisingly slow pace after the man that led them. Perhaps it might be challenging but fair to the pure [Mages], but even with Ranthia¡¯s split class focus the pace felt slow as they moved through town. Guards had cleared the road and there were members of Ranger Team 1¡ªthe ones that remained in Ariminum¡ªdarting around moving obstacles that the sloppy guards had left. Ranthia spent the entire run sorely tempted to convince her peers to drive their wedge through the nice formation ahead of her, just to take the lead position. Rows upon rows of neatly arrayed targets would at least look less idiotic positioned behind a hard wedge. Unfortunately, she figured actively causing aggressive chaos was a bad career move; Hexara really wanted her to do this after all. She had no intention of getting expelled almost immediately. Not this time. She assumed the instructors¡ªaside from the man in the lead¡ªwere somewhere behind the trainees. The jog took them out of the city proper and, at length, finally led them down to the docks where three large ships waited. The instructors divided the trainees among the ships efficiently and soon they were off. Ranthia had to roll her eyes at a group of [Mages] that immediately collapsed onto the deck and gasped for breath as if they had just gone through the hardest thing they had ever done. They would never make it without physical conditioning. Vitality was key for a [Mage]¡¯s survival too; they clearly hadn¡¯t thought through their builds or their goal of becoming Rangers. A relatively short time later, the ships arrived at¡­ some rich asshole¡¯s private island? A large island dominated by a massive building that reminded Ranthia of a slightly worse version of the Owl¡¯s Sanctum. Servants and¡­ prostitutes? milled about. Food was everywhere. As people descended from the ships, instructors called out names and room numbers. Ranthia groaned, as she realized the obvious meaning. She glanced at Kaesios, who had remained near her. They looked at the estate, then nodded to each other and silently mouthed the same thing in unison. ¡°Honey trap.¡± It was all-too-familiar, it was the same tactic Adventurers usually used to go after rogue classers. Seemingly give people exactly what they want, let them lower their guard, then attack when they¡¯re vulnerable. A little later Ranthia arrived in her room, only to find a note on her bed that instructed her to meet immediately elsewhere. Ranthia had to sprint across the complex to reach the room. She wasn¡¯t sure what this was about, but she wasn¡¯t about to drag her feet. It took a while before people stopped trickling in, but Ranthia already had her suspicions about what the meeting was for. There were 46 women milling about the room. Four of them¡ªfive counting Ranthia¡ªwere Adventurers, not that Bia would return any of the waves that Ranthia sent her way. The kid could hold a grudge, it seemed. But Ranthia was fairly certain that the room contained every single woman amongst the trainees. At last, the only female instructor entered the room. ¡°Excellent, thank you for being prompt. Ladies, first of all thank you for finally being the class that breaks through the 10% barrier. Over ten percent of our trainees are women this year! Let¡¯s show the men how it¡¯s done and maybe another decade from now we¡¯ll be an even mix!¡± She got a few sparse cheers. ¡°Right. On the table behind me you¡¯ll find emergency signal disks. Each of you take one and transfer a little mana into it. If you crush it, an instructor, Ranger Team 1 member, or Sentinel will arrive promptly. While we believe that all trainees will uphold high standards, there have been and will continue to be incidents, especially within the first few months of your training.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Please do not sleep with any of the male trainees and¡ªif you do¡ªfor the love of every god make sure you don¡¯t get pregnant. Anyone who becomes pregnant will be removed from the program. And we will be annoyed over having sex, even if you avoid becoming pregnant.¡± Ranthia was oh-so-tempted to ask if that meant she could have sex with the other female trainees. None of this mattered to her; she had never felt any sort of attraction towards a man, and she was confident that she could take care of herself if any of the men present tried to refuse to take no for an answer. Still, she had enough wisdom to keep her mouth shut¡ªshe didn¡¯t know any of the women in the room and there were prostitutes around. Ranthia mostly tuned out the instructor as the woman continued to talk about what-if scenarios. They all boiled down to ¡®say no¡¯ and ¡®if that doesn¡¯t work break your disk¡¯ (though Ranthia was slightly disappointed to learn that the use of force was discouraged, alas). Instead, Ranthia focused her thoughts on the honey trap. It was a pretty obvious setup. Give people a taste of decadence, then throw them into hardship. Those of weak will would end up more willing to abandon training early to get back to the decadence, which meant that they wasted far less time and fewer resources. It was clever, Ranthia granted. Of course, she had recently left a home that was an order of magnitude nicer, even if she did have to pay for food or prostitutes herself. She had already willingly abandoned all of that¡ªand Remus¡¯ most [Sexy] and perfect girlfriend¡ªjust to get there, so the honey trap felt pathetic in comparison. Ranthia decided that she could enjoy herself a little, before she focused and did what she did best. The trainees mingled once the meeting finished, which suggested the men had gone through a similar one. Ranthia was polite and grazed on the better food¡ªseriously, what kind of honey trap lacked even a single pot of rabbit stew?¡ªwhile she scoped out the ¡®competition.¡¯ Not that they were true competitors¡ªthere were limits on how many of them could become Rangers, but they weren¡¯t in direct competition. Still, she had her own pride as an Adventurer. Most of the other prospects were [Warrior] or [Ranger] tagged, unsurprisingly. [Mages] were the next most common group, and they had already started forming little mage cliques based on their elements or specializations. There were still a handful of [Laborers] or [Artisans] that Ranthia could only assume intended to side-grade into a combat class. More surprising though was that there were two people with a [Healer] tag, who¡ªbased on their similarities¡ªseemed to be siblings. Once Ranthia decided that she had mingled sufficiently (not that she had actually conversed with a single person), she turned her attention from the competition to the distractions. It didn¡¯t take her long to decide which of the women she wanted to approach, but before she reached her¡­ ¡°No way, I had my eye on her.¡± Kaesios interjected, as he tried to cut Ranthia off. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll think of a number between 1 and 1024. If I hear you successfully guess it before I can silently count 256 heartbeats, I¡¯ll back off.¡± Ranthia offered while she faced the man. He nodded and began the contest. Ranthia threw an image near the prostitutes and shifted to it after a brief channel, confident that she could conclude negotiations well before her opponent noticed. As the sky darkened, Ranthia made her way back outside. Kaesios was probably still mad at her, but whatever, she wanted to scout out the island before things truly kicked off. Except it was impossible to ignore the fact that several older trainees were acting strange. They had started to gather together, so Ranthia grabbed some food before she tried to signal to the other Adventurers in the area to follow. There were two hanging metal gongs nearby where the crowd was starting to form. One gong was a massive and ornate bronze-wrought masterpiece, the other was small and silver in color though it was heavily covered in strange glowing inscriptions. One of the instructors arrived and nodded to the trainees in the area, before he walked up to the larger gong and struck it. The unmistakable gonging sound that resulted had to be easily heard across the entire island. In fact, Ranthia wouldn¡¯t be surprised if some of the dock workers and fishermen back on the mainland with high vitality could hear it. The damned thing was loud, especially from up close! Those already present gathered into boringly orderly rows¡ªthere was no real opportunity to ruin the formation this time¡ªwhile other trainees began to stream out of the complex, some struggling to get dressed. After a bit, the other instructors that weren¡¯t on the platform began to scream at and insult the trainees that showed too late, which unfortunately did include one of the B-Ranked Adventurers. Ranthia had no idea what his name was, but she was judging him hard for making their organization look sloppy! Eventually, the instructor began his speech. ¡°I have had many names over the years, trainees. The name my parents gave me. Several less flattering names my enemies gave me. Artillery Mage C.¡± ¡­There had to be a story behind that one. ¡°But to all of you, my name is Sir. Often followed by Yes, Sir. Is that clear?!¡± ¡°¡°Sir! Yes, sir!¡±¡± The bulk of the trainees yelled. Except for one idiot that yelled ¡°Okay Artillery Mage C!¡± Other instructors descended on the idiot, and he was swiftly removed. Ranthia admired the spirit, but there was a place for everything. Snark here and now wasn¡¯t even going to accomplish minor chaos, it just resulted in bad things happening swiftly to you, specifically. ¡°I hope each of you enjoyed all of this decadence because in a week and a half you¡¯ll be cut off! Then for the next two years you will live in the mud on this island, you will learn on the grounds of this island, and you will strive to be reforged as Rangers on the scorching sands of this island! But know this! At any point in time, starting now, if it is too much for you to keep going, you can come back to this spot and ring that little silver gong! You¡¯re free once you do! You can return to this villa and enjoy food and every other comfort the gods have graced Remus with! No more mud or pain! You¡¯ll even get paid for sparing us from your floundering, with more money paid out the sooner you ring that gong!¡± First up would be ten days of what Ranthia immediately labeled a crash course in military nonsense. Marching, saluting, and the other idiotic synchronized frills that got people killed but looked impressive to the clueless. Following that would be the hell months, as the instructors eagerly called them. Training from before dawn until well after dark. Sleep was optional. Food was allegedly earned, though Ranthia suspected food quality was all that had a shot at being earned; they couldn¡¯t possibly be stupid enough to leave their trainees malnourished. All in all, mysticism aside, the description kind of reminded Ranthia of her journey from Sardonia to Ariminum¡­ which was probably a dangerous assumption. Surely the lauded Ranger Academy could do worse. Two trainees left the lineup during the needlessly detailed description of the hell months and struck the silver gong. And seriously, how pathetic was that? They hadn¡¯t even waited for the so-called hell! Next up they were split and lined up to speak to an instructor. ¡°Trainee Ranthia!¡± She reported once she got in front of the man. She had ended up in front of the short one that had led them through town. She was asked a long series of questions. She could swim, she had passable reading, she had passable writing, she had never marched, she had never saluted, she could dig a latrine, she could build a basic fortification though was unsure if it matched the military¡¯s standards, she couldn¡¯t sail, she could tie multiple practical knots, she was well experienced with wilderness survival, she could do basic first aid, she had no aura skills. She did earn an incredulous look when she described herself as a close-in melee fighter, despite her [Mage] tag. No, she did not have offensive magic abilities nor barriers. Yes, she was aware that was unusual (in hindsight that question had probably been rhetorical). Yes, she had a binding skill in the form of a covenant with her patron deity. He actually made her recite the full covenant. It pissed her off to share something so divinely private and the words it contained made him frown unhappily. She didn¡¯t give a damn; it wasn¡¯t his business! ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re going to need you to talk to Night at some point. Maybe even a priest. We¡¯ll get that scheduled. Now get out of my line, maggot!¡± The man ordered. It took surprising effort to not flip him off. Soon after, they were in formation again. ¡°One last order of business! As of right now you are all Ranger Trainees! You have all just been offered the skill [Ranger¡¯s Lore]! Take it, no excuses! It is an upgrade to [Soldier¡¯s Solidarity] and I¡¯m certain it¡¯s also an upgrade to [Adventurer¡¯s Prowess]!¡± A few Adventurers failed to hold in their snickers. [Adventurer¡¯s Prowess] wasn¡¯t a real skill, it was an inside joke. Something the Guild made up to explain how they were ¡®real¡¯ Adventurers as opposed to any mercenaries that weren¡¯t affiliated with the Guild. It was actually pretty legitimately hilarious that a piece of half-assed offhand misinformation had made it into the Rangers¡¯ upper leadership. Ranthia had a much larger problem though. Sure, she got the skill offered, but she hadn¡¯t expected to get any new skills before she classed up and maybe, hopefully, finally got at least [Dodging] to merge into her [Warrior] class! Fortunately, they were dismissed to their rooms again at that point, which meant that Ranthia could spend a bit of time trying to figure out what to do. Or, as was almost certain to be the outcome, go through the nausea¡ªand sheer regret¡ªof losing [Soups & Stews] in private. She could always relearn it at a later date, though losing 186 levels in such a beloved skill felt like such a waste! The damned Ranger skill had better be worth it. [Ranger¡¯s Lore]: An elite soldier of Remus, the pride of the nation of humanity. This skill helps with fighting, exploring, wilderness survival, and the other skills that a Ranger needs, both military and extraordinary. This skill persists for as long as you are a Ranger. -480 Mana Regen Rate. Ranthia was oh so tempted to class up, but finally decided that saving 186 levels of [Soups & Stews] at the risk of her future growth as a [Warrior] was idiotic. The Ranger Academy would almost definitely help the quality of her class up options and while every class up she had ever done had been remarkably quick¡­ there was always a risk that this one would take forever, make her miss the first day of training, and get her kicked out. It was just all around a terrible idea. She had to drop her beloved non-combat skill. ¡°I¡¯ll still be able to make rabbit stews, they just won¡¯t be quite as tasty¡­¡± Ranthia promised herself and, with a deep breath to steel herself, she selected the skill replacement. ¡­She would clean that up herself and not force the servants to handle it, she promised herself after an entirely too long of a period spent retching. The damned nausea from skill loss hit harder and harder the higher level the skill was. Book 1 - Chapter 32 - Academy II The basic training crash course was incredibly dull. She would wake up in her nice room, then light exercises, some basic education in military fluff, an actual break for lunch, and then more light exercises. Nothing was particularly complicated or physically taxing though [Ranger¡¯s Lore] leveled quite a few times and surprisingly [Fast Learner] even got a couple of levels. Ranthia also discovered a bizarre weakness, something she seemed to be utterly incapable of. Something that literally every other trainee that hadn¡¯t dropped out had figured out effortlessly. ¡°Trainee Ranthia, are you trying to be funny?!¡± ¡°Trainee Ranthia, why are you chosen by the gods to be the single stupidest fucking worm here?¡± ¡°Trainee Ranthia! Did I tell you to leave your position in the formation!?¡± ¡°Trainee Ranthia! Eight laps around the island, now!¡± No matter which instructor taught her. No matter how carefully she paid attention. She even tried shifting to a mirror image hidden out of sight and trying to make it work with [Reflective Motility] out of desperation. Nothing worked. She was just wholly incapable of marching in military formation. ¡°Seriously, what is going on with you? I don¡¯t think you¡¯re trying to act out, but I don¡¯t understand how this can be so hard for you.¡± The female instructor (still ¡®Sir¡¯) had sat down with Ranthia late one evening. The hell months would be beginning soon, and several other instructors seemed to have already written Ranthia off and were doing their best to get her to drop out (she had clenched her teeth through so many urges to hurl obscenities right back at the men). Oddly, the extra¡ªharder¡ªexercises actually helped her feel more comfortable. That was more in line with her expectations, after all. ¡°Honestly, Sir? The only thing I can think of is my skill from my covenant with Xaoc. I had thought nothing in it restricted my actions, except for sparing the chaotic, but¡­¡± ¡°I see, thank you trainee. I will inform the others, and we shall see what happens.¡± Well that certainly came off as ominous. As if marching hadn¡¯t been problematic enough, Ranthia soon discovered a second, far more inexplicable problem: spears. She couldn¡¯t even blame this one on her covenant. She hadn¡¯t ever really used a spear since she had drilled with the traitorous bandits back when she was a child, and back then she could barely even thrust with a spear, let alone do anything fancy. At first she assumed she had gotten a badly made spear. Its weight and balance just felt completely off in her hands. She could thrust with it, but the sweeps or other movements¡­ Her instructor had her swap weapons, but there was no change. The instructors themselves even verified the spears were properly balanced. She was fine when she did simple jabs or had to brace it, but any time she had to swing it, she had to struggle against an overwhelming sense of wrongness about every aspect of how the weapon handled. Her body wanted to overcorrect due to how wrong it felt, which resulted in her being mispositioned almost every single time. It was weird, but she still managed to do slightly better than some of the physically inept [Mages]. Thankfully she too was [Mage] tagged, so the instructors took significantly less umbrage to her struggles with the spear than they did to her complete inability to march. It just drove her up a wall since she had no explanation for it! The hell months began with a bang¡ªa far more literal one than Ranthia would have ever expected. A great explosion rocked the entire island in the middle of the night. Instructors barreled through the halls yelling only the word ¡®Move!¡¯ on rapid repeat. Ranthia was up immediately, then armored and armed herself as quickly as possible with practiced efficiency. She checked her gear and her arcanite a final time, and then she moved. All while she carried a single (foolish) thought in her adrenaline-fueled mind: Who would be stupid enough to attack the island?! ¡°Trainee Ranthia, what took you!?¡± ¡­Of course, there was no attack. ¡°Sir, I prepared for a combat engagement due to a misinterpretation of the wake-up call!¡± One of the instructors off to the side¡ªArtillery Mage C¡ªnearly chuckled, his hard-ass mask cracked under the strain of his grin. The instructor that had yelled at Ranthia seemed to have no idea how to respond. He could hardly yell at her for what was, ultimately, a solid instinct. Outside of the Adventurers only a few others had armor and equipment of their own. Ranthia seemed to have been the only one of them that was the right mix of jumpy, prepared, and paranoid that resulted in getting geared up for a fight. The rest had either remembered the hell months were beginning or just blindly followed the instructors¡¯ orders. Kaesios looked like he was struggling not to laugh. Yeah, he was going to give her plenty of shit for that mistake. ¡°Trainee Ranthia, your punishment will be that you will have to do what comes next in your full armor!¡± Another instructor saved the instructor that she had stumped. Inwardly, Ranthia was thrilled. She would much rather go through ¡®hell¡¯ in her second skin, no matter how practical the tunics they had been issued were. While the bulk of the instructors swarmed the next late trainee, the sole woman instructor pulled Ranthia to the side and quietly whispered to her that she would be failed if she drew her knives or so much as touched any of her potions, rations, or other useful equipment at any point during the hell months. They weren¡¯t about to let her have any advantage from her equipment. ¡°Welcome, trainees to the hell months! If you can restrict your aura to yourself, keep it active, otherwise all aura skills off! Only one of you worms has an exception and trust me, being close to that aura will provide you with no benefit! You may freely use your skills and spells to help yourself, so long as no one else is aided by them! Trainee Statia has a restriction skill that requires she offer assistance to anyone who asks for it! This skill requires the word ¡®help¡¯ to be used while requesting it! If any of you maggots use the word ¡®help¡¯ in any context while speaking to her, you will be removed immediately! We will be listening! ¡°Now with that out of the way! I hope you all enjoyed your previous accommodations because they are now part of your past! Except if, at this time, you finally come to your senses and realize that you are unworthy to become a Ranger! I hope each of you maggots always remember that with just one little tap of that little silver gong you get to return to the warmth, comfort, food, and pleasures that are offered here while you get paid cold, hard currency for having an ounce of sense!¡± Two other trainees looked at each other, then jogged for the silver gong. Gods, some people were pathetic. ¡°Very well then, the rest of you are clearly as stupid as you look! On me!¡± The sky had seemed clear, but moments later they seemed to pass through an invisible barrier at a jog. Out of nowhere a storm ripped the air apart. Constant lightning lit up the sky, each flash accompanied by painfully echoing thunderclaps. The rain was bizarrely hot, each drop at an unnatural temperature that was just barely too low to scald the skin. The sands of the island were already a thick mud, thicker and stickier than beach sand alone should have made. Skills, meant to help make their lives worse. Not entirely surprising. ¡°Now run! Run as fast as you can, as hard as you can, as long as you can! You do not slow! You do not stop! Not without my permission; I¡¯m your god here!¡± Fucking blasphemy too! Ranthia was more sour about it than she was about the obstacles, but she still ran. The footing was eternally treacherous. More than one speedster ran ahead yet most went down, only to be pulled out of the mud by an instructor and berated while they were thrown back in. Ranthia too slipped several times but she recovered, either by the grace of [Dodging] or something in [Knives & War]. Three laps of the island later they emerged from the too-hot rain just as they returned to their starting position, where one of the instructors was signaling them to stop. Those further behind were still getting drenched, only the small area was freed of the rains. Ranthia was vaguely impressed with the skill control on display. ¡°Burpees! Three hundred!¡± The instructor that had outrun all of them yelled as they arrived, before they could even come to a complete stop. Ranthia had a certain grudging respect for the instructors. They didn¡¯t sit somewhere comfortable and wait, they ran the circuit with the trainees. ¡­Though she noted that none of them bothered with the burpees and instead stood and carefully watched the trainees as they dropped, pushed themselves up and then sprang to their feet with a jump, only to repeat the process. Actually, some of the instructors sat down to watch in chairs that Ranthia hadn¡¯t even noticed! Ranthia had never known what a burpee was until the basic military stuff. In her mind, it was one of the more interesting things that she learned so far. It was an exercise that combined strength, endurance, and finesse¡ªTatius and Pupius had held out on her! There was no way they hadn¡¯t been familiar with them! The mud was thankfully restored to its natural state of simple wet, sticky sand, but they quickly became coated as they exercised under the sun. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, the sand dried into scratchy splotches of annoyance. And yes, it was much worse where it got under leather armor. Ranthia pushed herself. She fully expected a chance to catch her breath once she was done with burpees, if she completed fast enough that there was time until the other trainees finished their sets.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. She underestimated the hell months. ¡°Back to running!¡± The instructors barked at the more physically inclined classers as they finished. Ranthia wasn¡¯t the first, but she soon grudgingly joined them. Ranthia¡¯s physical stats were lower than they would have been had she walked the path of a pure [Warrior] or [Ranger]. But she had a different advantage. She was, by a good margin, one of the highest leveled trainees present. Only the other three A-Rank adventurers and four other trainees beat her level, but none of them were higher than 256. Perhaps they too were waiting for the academy to finish before they classed up. With her levels, Ranthia was able to stay within the top 16 trainees as they cycled through brutal exercises. Run. Burpees. Run. Sit ups. Run. Run more maggots! Chin ups with equipment that hadn¡¯t been there during the prior lap. Run. Something Ranthia couldn¡¯t even remember. Run. The weather changed constantly, sometimes hot and cold alternated so fast that it felt like they were just barely giving the trainees¡¯ body temperatures enough time to regulate before they were plunged into another extreme. Fog. Howling winds that somehow didn¡¯t pick up the sand and shred them. A thick downpour of flurries of something white and bitterly cold, like impossibly tiny, soft flecks of ice. Finally, after half the day, they were allowed to stop. Trays of bread were brought out and stacked near a sand dune while one of the instructors yelled at them. A gentle breeze washed over the trainees, bringing sweet cooling relief from the heat that had dominated the last leg. ¡­It also blew sand all over the bread, which had to be intentional. The animal companions¡ªwhich Ranthia largely ignored¡ªwere fed properly based on their needs. More than a few trainees watched their bonded companions jealously while the beasts eagerly feasted. Another group of trainees left once the instructor finally ordered them to line up for half a loaf of stale, sand-covered bread per person. The instructors gleefully reminded them while they collected their morsel and warm water of the tasty food at the villa. ¡­Ranthia began to grudgingly admit their honey trap might have better teeth than she had assumed. The next leg of exercises was done in the island¡¯s natural weather, clear and beautiful. This time the instructors warned them about the trick. Small pellets of soft, foul-smelling mud would be launched at random. If it struck you, the mud wouldn¡¯t come off until this leg was finished. It would stink, it would accumulate and was heavy enough to burden you, and worst of all it would impede your mana regeneration. [Mages] could shield it if they could spare the attention and handle the mana strain. Everyone else had to see it coming and dodge it. Or, as no doubt some would, let it pile on and try to power through it. Ranthia felt like she had an absurd edge with her speed, vitality, and dexterity, especially when they were combined with [Combat Awareness] and [Dodging]. Oddly, [Divine-Touched Identify] seemed to be unable to locate the caster(s) behind the mud, but the island was a major military installation that had existed for a long time. Top-notch facilities were to be expected. It didn¡¯t take long for the caster(s) to realize she had an edge over most of the other trainees. Not that it was all that hard to notice¡ªRanthia was pretty sure that she was the only one still clean after her first lap; in hindsight she wished she¡¯d taken a hit or two on her armor just so she stood out less. Instead, like an idiotic show-off, she had gracefully dodged around each bit of mud that was aimed in her direction with ease. Her second lap had a much higher concentration focused on her. Some of the slower, less maneuverable trainees already resembled clay monsters as they shambled forward. The other trainees tried to avoid being in her vicinity, since she was such an obvious target. At first, she was still able to cope, but the intensity increased. Finally, she was forced to start to take hits. Ranthia did her best to make sure that she took the hits on her armor, ideally in locations that wouldn¡¯t be fatal had the mud been a real attack. Two laps later she suspected that nearly every shot of mud was aimed in her direction. In the end, Ranthia was heavily splattered and reeked from the mud, but she still took some small satisfaction in the fact that she had kept her face and most of her chest more-or-less free from direct strikes. The weight and stink still made the push-ups they had to do after absolutely miserable. Couldn¡¯t they have at least been burpees so she could get some fresh air?! The days continued. The bread and bits of other foodstuffs were never appetizing. Sometimes it was burnt, sometimes it was damp, sometimes it was frozen, sometimes it had extremely bitter additives, once it was served so hot it scalded her mouth even through her vitality. The exercise continued to be brutal. Literally almost the entirety of each day was spent in grueling exercise. Then they would eat, drink equally foul¡ªthough abundant¡ªwater and collapse for an all too brief rest. This actually taught Ranthia a new skill (though she didn¡¯t take the actual Skill it also offered): the ability to fall asleep almost instantly, no matter how uncomfortable she was. Most of the other trainees either already had the ability or learned it around the time Ranthia did. Their numbers continued to dwindle with each passing day. ¡°Trainees! Look alive!¡± Each instructor ran through and called out names for trainees that would follow them, their numbers supplemented by a couple of members from Ranger Team 1. They ran a half lap in groups of eight (plus an instructor) to where gigantic inscribed logs waited. They were told to line up by height at their assigned log, and the instructors were swift to punish even the briefest mistakes. Ranthia was, somehow, right in the middle of her group of total strangers. She was pretty tall, but they had stuck her in a team with some true giants among men. They lifted their log while the inscriptions that covered them glowed, then had to run as a group while they managed the heavy burden of the massive piece of some grand tree. Several laps¡ªand yet more trainees that gave up¡ªlater, Ranthia realized something. While the weight and endurance training probably did her some good, there were other Skills that could get significantly better mileage out of it. The exercise had physical strain, coordination, and complex movements¡­ it was perfect! There were a few spare logs stacked near where they stopped for their brief snooze and food break (Ranthia was among the group that was starting to favor more time to sleep and tried to choke down the terrible food as quickly as possible). When they began again Ranthia started to channel and, as soon as the log was up, for the first time since the hell months began, Ranthia threw a mirror image out between two piles and shifted into it. Careful not to be seen, she hid while she focused her attention on her real body that was under the log and made use of [Reflective Motility]. It was an absurdly manual process with something so complex and she could almost feel the strain on [Persistent Imagery]¡­ which almost made her abandon the plan. She could be vigilant, she decided. She¡¯d watch her body and the terrain. If there was any danger of them tripping, she just had to shift back. It was safe. It was worth doing. She hoped. [Reflective Motility] was capped, but the exercise was tremendously valuable for practical experience with the skill. Ranthia constantly improved how her true body moved and the precision she controlled it with. Gradually pieces of the process became second nature to her. Even if the entire process felt much more dangerous once the sun set, Ranthia persisted. She was learning too much, and the darkness added further imperative for improvement. ¡°Oi, got another Mirage classer trying to slack off.¡± ¡°She¡¯s Mirror. Come on, haven¡¯t you read the trainee profiles yet?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Ugh, should we inform one of the instructors?¡± ¡°Bet you two rods I could knock that pile down on top of her from here.¡± A more annoyed voice cut through from much further behind them. ¡°That is not someone at leisure. Pay attention. Her concentration is obvious. Note her eyes. Further, you will note the double that she uses. Its movements began rough but they are slowly being refined. I expect better from all of you than to miss such obvious signs. She has encountered an exercise that may have offered her less benefit than others, yet she found a way to make it into something to help her grow. This is to be commended, not punished.¡± Every time they did log sprints, Ranthia alternated. Sometimes she ran it for real. Sometimes she watched from her hiding place, a mirror image that she replaced every time she rested, left lying half-buried in the sand. If the weather was particularly challenging, she made sure to carry it herself of course; she only trusted [Persistent Imagery] so far. Oddly, Ranthia sometimes swore the log felt heavier when she intended to run herself. ¡°Logs down!¡± ¡°Logs up!¡± ¡°Logs down!¡± ¡°Logs up!¡± ¡­Each repetition the log felt heavier. She had no idea how they manipulated the inscriptions from afar, assuming it even was the inscriptions. Could they have a Gravity [Mage] hidden somewhere? Each log team felt random, but Ranthia suspected there was some rationale in play that she couldn¡¯t find. Some logs were run by nothing but physical classers. Some were mixed. One was all [Mages] and one of the two [Healers]. One had two [Rangers], two [Warriors], two [Mages], a [Healer] and a [Laborer], which almost had to be deliberate. Superficially, Ranthia¡¯s own team was [Rangers] and [Mages] only, though she saw the truth thanks to [Divine-Touched Identify]. Her group was actually comprised of only split classers, not a single one of them was purely a [Ranger] or a [Mage]. Not that they talked much, except to call out orders or hazard warnings. The teams that finished ahead of others on the laps got to rest until all of the teams completed their runs, which made everyone motivated to grab even a precious few moments of sleep. And since everyone pushed, it only further increased the pace. Ranthia felt that it would have made more sense to continually shuffle the teams, but it never happened for some reason. As people dropped out, logs were lightened to accommodate and groups continued as they were. Even when there was a log that only had a single [Warrior] awkwardly running with it. When the mud returned for a log carry lap, the caster(s) involved didn¡¯t even pretend to be fair. The mud bombarded Ranthia¡¯s team until the lot of them were so encased and the log was so slippery that progress became literally impossible. Somehow this was their fault. The instructors screamed at them, freed them, and then the same thing happened yet again. It wasn¡¯t like Ranthia could fucking dodge while she was carrying a log! At least the other teams seemed to enjoy their unusually long break while Ranthia¡¯s team struggled to finish. When one of her team dropped out (cursing at Ranthia, specifically, of course¡ªas if she had wanted any of this horseshit), the instructors just lightened the log a little and forced them to continue. As the days progressed the instructors got downright mean. They descended en masse on each recruit and verbally pummeled them with threats and insults. When it was Ranthia¡¯s turn she had a different reaction; she had to struggle to keep from laughing. It was probably exceedingly arrogant, but Ranthia was pretty sure that she could have taken any of the instructors one-on-one in a real fight. Depending on the composition there were probably even groups of them that she could handle if she struck fast enough before they figured out how her abilities worked. Threats of violence from people she was willing to confidently fight always amused her. Eventually they hit a sort of break-even point. Trainees had stopped leaving and it had been days since the last dropout. Already the instructors had stopped going out of their way to be awful. The more extreme weather like sandstorms or ice storms stopped. Best of all, the mud bombardments disappeared! From there the exercises went back to merely brutal with crap¡ªthough maybe slightly improved¡ªfood and drink. It didn¡¯t feel like they were out to crush the trainees¡¯ will anymore. As a group they had been broken down, and she supposed that it was time to build them back up. ¡°Fall in!¡± The trainees gathered. ¡°Congratulations, you¡¯ve all passed the hell months! Get some rest!¡± Quite a few trainees dropped on the spot and fell asleep immediately, out of habit. ¡°For those of you still on your feet, congratulations! You get to help us get your peers back to the villa.¡± The instructor added in a quieter tone. Ranthia successfully suppressed the urge to groan and instead dismissed her hidden mirror image and created a new one next to her. With her practice with [Reflective Motility] she was able to pick up one of the female trainees by her shoulders while her mirror image grabbed the girl¡¯s feet. She barely even noticed the instructors¡¯ reactions, except to finally release the groan she had held in when one of them spoke. ¡°We should have had her carrying a log with herself this whole time.¡± Book 1 - Chapter 33 - Academy III Ranthia, at long last, was done. She had been forced to make another three trips to retrieve different passed out trainees that were so dead to the world that none of the women reacted to being carried. She had to haul them to the villa where the appropriate servants took custody of them. It was well after dark when the instructors dismissed her without even thanking her for her assistance. Ranthia¡¯s armor was in desperate need of some proper maintenance after she¡¯d been trapped in it for so long while they were abused. It could wait. A bath should have been her first stop, but even that could wait for morning. As could her tormented stomach. She was focused on only one thing: the bed that awaited her. Unfortunately, no matter how the bed in her room called to her, it seemed that Ranthia wasn¡¯t allowed to rest. Someone was in her room. The door was ajar, and she could barely see the shadow moving in the gloom of the night. Ranthia placed her hands on her knives¡ªshe wasn¡¯t quite twitchy enough to murder a servant, thankfully, so they remained in their sheaths¡ªand entered. Inside was a man, pale and thin. His hair was white. His eyes were red. And something about him just instinctively filled Ranthia with enough fear of the danger he posed that her knives were in her hands, and she had two mirror images inside the room before she had quite consciously decided how to react. Even before her heart threatened to stop when [Divine-Touched Identify] fed her his information. Level 520 [Warrior]¡ªan impossibility¡ªwas bad enough¡­ but something about the man set her on edge. Some primordial terror whispered promises of her demise deep within the core of her being. The man was danger incarnate, and she had no possible defense. He was something worse than his level indicated, though she had no idea why she felt that way. Raw terror gripped her, in a way that was all too reminiscent of the terrible night when she had realized Perinthus was at risk of being put to the torch. It was a hopeless terror, borne of the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to protect herself. A horrific sense of helplessness that Ranthia had hoped¡ªin vain¡ªto have forever escaped. ¡°Be at ease, Trainee Ranthia. I am Sentinel Night. I apologize for the unpleasant surprise, but I believe that you and I are overdue for a conversation. Please, walk with me.¡± His voice was polite and smooth, with the tiniest hint of a certain general weariness to it. Ranthia blinked several times, as she tried to make sense of her mangled emotions. Fatigue that gave way to adrenaline followed by sheer godsdamned horror left her more than a little discombobulated, but at length she warily returned her knives to their sheaths and dismissed her mirror images. Not that any of it would have done her a bit of good had he wanted her dead, she reminded herself. She was utterly dead on her feet, but she managed to nod and convince her feet to move again. The Sentinel began to walk, and she fell in two steps behind him. Somehow, with a small group, whatever nonsense that screwed up her ability to parade march didn¡¯t apply, so it wasn¡¯t like she struggled to match his pace or anything. ¡°I am something of an expert at restriction skills and your instructors have informed me that yours has already caused you problems. While I have already selected Trainee Statia as my student for the training that begins soon, I would be remiss if I did not speak with you.¡± The man was the first being she had ever seen with three classes. He was the highest level anything that she had ever encountered (at least in her current lifetime). ¡­And she had pointed her knives at him! The strange, pale man was silent for a period of time even though it obviously wasn¡¯t a statement that she needed to respond to. Ranthia was somewhat grateful though for the strange pause; she really needed a chance to think. ¡°Will you please do me the honor of sharing with me the full language of your covenant with the deity?¡± The man prompted. Ranthia bristled ever so slightly. She had discovered something she had never known about herself at the Ranger Academy: She absolutely hated sharing her Covenant with other beings. It was sacred and eminently personal. It was meant to be something between her and Xaoc alone. She had never even shared the details with Tatius or Pupius. Yet at the academy she was forced to disclose it more than once! Ranthia still recited it, silently seething the entire time. ¡°Whether I am your Paladin or just another blade, I will always accept Chaos and carry it with me. I will do what I can to reject the stagnation of Order, and I shall endeavor to spare those that cause true Chaos. I shall never accept those who court the final form of Order, destruction, for their actions may briefly be chaotic but they ultimately deny Your goals. In every place I visit, every battle I bring havoc to, every life I touch, I shall do my utmost to add a little more Chaos into our world. And you may always call upon me to exert your will upon this world, I was and forever shall be your Paladin and herald, even on this path. You gave me a second chance and an opportunity to sculpt myself anew, And so, this life is hereby pledged to the service of Chaos and to You.¡± Sentinel Night was silent for a time once again. Ranthia was beginning to suspect that the man had a fondness for ponderous silences. ¡°Thank you, I realize that speaking of such a vow asks much from you. First, I wish to touch on chaos itself. There are those who will tell you that chaos has no place amongst the Rangers. They will assert that Rangers are agents of order. ¡­They are short-sighted. Rangers are the tool we use to discover and fix problems within Remus. Rangers will frequently cause extensive chaos as they carry out their duty, as the uprooting of the day-to-day order is a necessity to cut that which must be excised.¡± ¡°Of course, chaos is important to a healthy society. I wouldn¡¯t serve Xaoc if I wasn¡¯t aware of that.¡± Ranthia interjected saltily. She had already begun to chafe at the man¡¯s propensity towards long pauses in the conversation. She was exhausted and she had a bed waiting for her. Ranthia felt that conversations required a certain level of energy that the pauses just lacked. And she was tired enough that her irritability managed to override her sense, even with her survival instinct still screaming nonstop. The pale Sentinel chuckled lightly. ¡°Very well, I shall move on to my second takeaway. Your vow suggests you previously held a [Paladin] class, but abandoned it? Gods seldom let their paladins go so readily.¡± Ranthia stopped moving and, yet a-fucking-gain, panic seized her. Dozens of responses played out in her head. She could deny it. She could refuse to speak. She could ask him to forget he heard anything. None of them felt promising. In hindsight, she wanted to curse at herself for not omitting the final sentence. The truth was hanging right there in the open! Exhaustion quashed all the excuses; she just didn¡¯t trust herself enough at the moment to craft a plausible lie or bit of misdirection. And she¡¯d already given up the secret anyway, and she wasn¡¯t about to assume an extremely high level Sentinel was an idiot. ¡°¡­I¡¯ve never spoken of this to anyone, not even the men who raised me. I am god-touched. Xaoc Himself plucked me when I perished in a prior life. He judged me too orderly, though I was a paladin in his service. He put me back into the world with orders to be tempered with chaos. My first memory after that is my system unlocking, moments after a surprisingly young Ranger [Healer] cured ¡­my body of her plagues. I don¡¯t care if you believe me, but that¡¯s the truth.¡± More silence, both of them had stopped moving. Since she made no move to resume her walk, he waited with her. ¡°I see, thank you for sharing. There was a time I would have suggested that you speak to Priest Demos. His successor is wholly unable to fill the shoes that were left for him, but it would still be proper for you to speak to him. I will ensure that time is set aside for you to do so, in the future.¡± He paused only briefly, before he began to walk again. ¡°For what it is worth, I believe you can still become a fine Ranger, little Adventurer.¡± Ranthia made no move to follow him; she was mostly certain that his final statement was intended as a dismissal. It felt more proper given the occasion, so she bowed, in her old comfortable way, rather than using the Remus salute. ¡°Oh, one last thing. I have taken up some of your valuable rest and recovery time. Perhaps this will make up for it.¡± The man called back, before he gestured off-handedly in her direction. A sudden gale whipped up around Ranthia for a single heartbeat, and then it was gone. And she was clean. Just as clean as if she had shifted into one of her mirror images. The sand, sweat, mud and filth that had accumulated on her and inside her armor was just¡­ gone. The man walked away, and she wondered briefly at which of his three classes did that. ¡­At least until her exhaustion reasserted itself, far more prominently than it had been before, as it insisted that she needed to make her way back to her room before she collapsed outside. The next week was devoted to recovery, but Ranthia awoke¡ªrather late in the day by her standards¡ªin a giddy mood. Levels above 512 were possible! Her embarrassment at calling A-Ranked Adventurers the equal of Sentinels was a distant fiddle to the reignition of her dreams. Her third class wasn¡¯t an impossibility that she had to set aside. It wasn¡¯t merely possible, but Night had been¡­ well, she had no idea how old he was, but he certainly wasn¡¯t decrepit! Once again, Ranthia allowed herself to dream of what she could become. On day 1 of the recovery period, the only thing on offer was a thin, mild soup since their appetites had to be retrained. The food slowly built back up. Ranthia even put off maintaining her armor for an extra day while she mostly slept in or prayed to Xaoc (she had catching up to do, which left her mildly incensed). She knew better than most that her body had been pushed to the brink by aggressive exercise while barely on the right side of starvation (which, honestly, should have felt familiar to her body, but it didn¡¯t). Even her mind had been taxed heavily, especially when she started to train [Reflective Motility]. Light exercises only showed up in her routine after the second day passed. Ranthia hadn¡¯t miraculously gotten any class levels out of the hell months, not that she expected to. Only her [Warrior] class might have liked that stuff, and it was capped and ready to class up. She did get skill levels, of course. [Persistent Imagery] had actually¡ªfinally¡ªcapped, which was exciting (¡­and nerve-wracking since that had been her true body she was abusing). It was the only class skill that had leveled, but Ranthia could live with that with her General Skill gains. [Ranger¡¯s Lore] was already up to 96, but she supposed the Ranger Academy was probably designed to bolster it. [Fast Learner] had gotten up to 106. And somehow [Image Recall] had gotten a single level. Ranthia remained largely antisocial, since her prayers to Xaoc didn¡¯t count. She did eventually accept an invitation from some of the other female trainees to use the baths downstairs with them, but once she realized she was looking a little too closely at her peers she vowed to not visit with them again. Instead, she spent an evening with one of the prostitutes to reset herself. Towards the end of the recovery period the Adventurers that had volunteered to attend the Academy held a gathering. One of their number¡ªa surprisingly only B-Ranked man that Ranthia wasn¡¯t sure she had ever seen before¡ªhad somehow sourced the wood for a fire pit and some raw meat to cook for their little group. Strategically, none of them asked how he came by the bounty, they just happily indulged in grilled and roasted meats while they chattered or traded boasts. It was a wondrous blend of surprising and completely expected, but not a one of them had dropped out during the hell months! Go Team Adventurer¡¯s Guild, Ranthia was proud that they had collectively proven that they had iron in their blood. Not literally, of course (at least as far as Ranthia knew), and admittedly they were hand-picked by the Guildmaster. Odds are the wily man had some inside information about what they would face and had selected ones that he believed could take it, but after so many trainees dropped out the fact that they had all 24 was still impressive. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll admit it if no one else will. I damn near dropped out when we started the log carries. I think my hands and shoulder are going to be chafed for the rest of my life, and on day 1 the shitstain behind me kept ¡®accidentally¡¯ touching my butt with his legs. Claimed his feet were getting stuck in the sand, which was dumb because none of us were having that problem. Got lucky though, he dropped out before I beat the shit out of him and got kicked out.¡± Bia (still not her name) confessed. ¡°Ugh, yeah. I thought for sure I was going to drop out during the mud barrage. Would have been a damned shame to lose my golden ticket into the A Ranks. Oh, right¡ªthanks for drawing their fire on that, Gob-Slasher!¡± One of the B-Ranked men called out. ¡°Don¡¯t shorten it, Nose, it¡¯s bad enough!¡± Ranthia snapped back. ¡°Noise! My title is Noise!¡± He protested. ¡°Wait, go back. You¡¯re getting into the A Ranks for doing this? Ugh, I knew the Guildmaster accepted the payment I requested awfully fast.¡± Bia grumbled. ¡°Well, this and at least two rotations as a Ranger.¡± No(i)se answered. ¡°Wait, wait! What in Xaoc¡¯s name are you two talking about? You¡¯re getting bonus incentives for doing this?¡± Ranthia demanded. The entire group fell silent and turned towards her. It was like they had rehearsed it; they nodded in perfect fucking unison. Then the mockery started, led by Kaesios. So, it turned out that those questions people had asked that Ranthia had ignored, back when the Ranger thing got pitched to the first-choice group, made it clear that the Guildmaster was willing to privately negotiate with those that accepted for bonuses. Most of the group negotiated¡ªwith varying proficiency¡ªfor cold, hard coin. A few were getting promotions out of success. One¡ªthe A-Ranked that replaced Rockfall¡ªwas gunning for leadership of one of the bigger branches. Every single one of them had something more than the glory of being a Ranger to aim for. Except for Ranthia, who had desperately clung on to her girlfriend¡¯s hopes instead. Nothing was worse than missing out on a chance for greater wealth and only having yourself to blame! The recovery period came to an end and the trainees were gathered once again. They were¡ªbriefly¡ªpraised for their success and then were given their schedule (or had it read to them). These would be the first set of courses to help shore up their weaker areas and help them become true Rangers, or something like that; Ranthia had gotten a bit distracted with parsing out the scroll she was given. 4th Gong: Physical Exercise 5th Gong: Breakfast 6th Gong: Advanced Reading & Writing 7th Gong: Fundamentals of Imperial Law 8th Gong: Mental Exercise 9th Gong: Field Cooking 10th Gong: Group Sparring 11th Gong: 1-on-1 Sparring 12th Gong: Lunch 13th Gong: Geography & Cartography 14th Gong: Obstacle Course 15th Gong: Advanced Monster Slaying 16th Gong: Sailing 18th Gong: Dinner 19th Gong: Field Leadership Training 20th Gong: Countering Sapient Foes 22nd Gong: Sentinel Hunting (when available, otherwise Meditation) A full schedule that left little room to rest, but at least it seemed reasonable and there were several things on there that she looked forward to. Not the fundamentals of imperial law though, that sounded horrendous. She had no idea what the 13th Gong course said or part of the 20th Gong name, but she supposed that was what the 6th Gong course would fix eventually. Okay, yes, she mildly regretted not attending more of the lessons the Guild had offered. There were roughly two dozen trainees in Advanced Reading & Writing. They mostly just read a large variety of scrolls, which were supposedly sourced broadly. Some were old after-action reports from Ranger teams. Some were records of songs that bards wrote. One set was a positively impossible to comprehend monstrosity called the Medical Manuscripts. Everything they read was, of course, just a copy. Each of them was expected to read through their task, receiving assistance from the instructor as necessary, before they briefly discussed what they read. Then they had to write a new copy without issues and with limited access to the original. And, of course, some of the copies they read had intentional errors in spelling or such that they were supposed to catch. It was boring, but Ranthia tried to focus on the positives. Not only did it help her reading and writing skills, but her reading speed seemed to improve nearly daily. She might have slightly hated it. Fundamentals of Imperial Law was somehow even worse than she had expected. Instead of any of the regular instructors, some self-important windbag from the capital showed up to speak down vaguely in their direction. Worse, the windbag often lost himself in unrelated tangents, which made it challenging to figure out which noises he made were important and which could be ignored. The course was held in the largest room in the villa, but almost every trainee was in attendance so despite the space they were down to standing room only. Desk space was competitive and Ranthia just hated the whole thing. Ranthia was always heavily tempted to shift into a mirror image and do something else, but she didn¡¯t want to fail any course and get kicked out of the academy. For all the man¡¯s faults with speaking, he wasn¡¯t prone to repeating himself. Once again, Ranthia gritted her teeth and tried to focus. For Hexara¡¯s peace of mind, she could deal with it. Probably. Mental Exercise was a surprisingly small class, only five trainees. The other four were pure [Mages]. It was a bit of an odd class, too. On the first day the instructor guided them through thought exercises and what-if scenarios. The next day was puzzles, both written and made from carved wood. Some days they focused on being thorough with their solutions and reasoning. Others they instead focused on raw speed. Sometimes the instructor caused distractions or forced them to attempt to focus on multiple different objectives simultaneously. It was surprising, but Ranthia ended up deciding the course was one of her favorites. It required a certain degree of flexibility that spoke to her. Field Cooking was all about taking scavenged ingredients and making safe, healthy meals with few or no city-acquired supplies. The instructor was fond of saying the 30 of them would, if they became Rangers, be the sole hope of keeping their fellow Rangers both loyal and hale. The information was¡ªlargely¡ªnovel and interesting, but it also made Ranthia miss her old [Soups & Stews] skill desperately. Still, the course, in theory, promised to help her be less reliant on Skills and maybe¡ªmaybe¡ªif it panned out as the instructor promised, Ranthia wouldn¡¯t need to take the skill again once she finally freed up one of her general skill slots. The first several sparring classes were, surprisingly, done wholly without any Skills aside from passives that were impossible to disable. It was reminiscent of her earliest days as a Light [Mage] wielding a knife supported only by a few General Skills. The class gave Ranthia an opportunity to focus on her increasingly dance-like knife fighting style that she had been evolving. Dodge, weave, strike; the crux of it was to always keep her motions flowing from one to the next without interruption. Ranthia¡¯s reach was awful since she used knives, but in spite of that she felt that she did decently in both the groups and the singles. Especially for a hybrid [Mage]/[Warrior].Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The unreadable course turned out to be navigation and maps. She had no idea why they used more complex words for such simple ideas, but she was happy to take the course. It was all about long-range navigation, something she honestly had absolutely no experience with. Memorizing landmarks to help orient yourself was familiar, but it was only the starting line for the tricks that the course taught her. Plant life was a surprising focus. The instructor taught them that they could recognize impending shifts in terrain using the local vegetation to minimize time spent going in the wrong direction, for example. The course also covered how to read and even make maps. Every map Ranthia had ever seen was somewhat simplistic, but in that course she got to study maps of considerably higher quality and accuracy. There was one map though that interested her far more than any of the others. Its accuracy and scale were dubious, but it actually contained more than just Remus. It was a glimpse of the Pallos that she had dreamed of. Only ten of them were in that class, which seemed odd. Shouldn¡¯t everyone be in such a useful course? The obstacle course was almost boring, even with her hybrid stat focus she was in a league beyond what the course had been designed for. Then the instructors made her do it with her right arm tied behind her back. From there it became much more interesting, especially as the instructors changed things around or added penalties and handicaps to them as soon as they adapted. As best she could tell, all of the trainees that were left were part of the course, similar to the sparring and the morning physical exercise. Advanced Monster Slaying wasn¡¯t the course she was expecting¡­ it was so much better and was as fascinating a challenge as her Mental Exercise course. This course was about figuring out how to slay monsters that you had never seen before or were at a much, much higher level than you were. It also covered caster monsters and those with potent auras. It was her Adventurer career turned into a series of logic puzzles, and she loved it. It was fun to discuss and debate the merits of different tactics, especially with the weight of her experience behind her. She had even fought monsters that were unheard of! ¡­Until hellhounds came up. Not that the instructor believed her when she claimed to have fought them before (even with most of the other Adventurers backing her up). The class also discussed a variety of monsters and creatures that she had never heard of before, such as hydras. And yet, there the hellhounds were, amidst these exotic beasts. Which¡ªin light of the map that Ranthia was so enamored with¡ªled her to a conclusion. This course was about monsters found beyond Remus¡¯ borders. It only made the hellhounds even more mysterious than they had been, but it was exciting to think about. The Rangers knew more about Pallos than she had dared to hope! All of the Adventurers and a handful of others were in the course. Sailing started in the classroom, but quickly transitioned out onto actual boats. The hundred or so trainees in the course were divided up into groups of twenty-four per boat, with a separate instructor or sailor for each. Ranthia ended up in the last group, one with only fifteen others, taught by an instructor that warned them that someone else might sometimes teach their group. At least she didn¡¯t get sick to her stomach on boats like a few others did. Ranthia¡¯s exact same group of sixteen trainees from Sailing showed up again for Field Leadership Training, without a single other trainee present. That course was pretty much all about recovering from disasters. What happened when your team¡¯s leader and whomever was second in command fell in battle or to other threats. It was about restoring control over her fellow Rangers when the normal chain of command failed. Or assuming command when her own expertise dwarfed that of the proper team leaders. It also covered the Ranger hand-signals that were normally taught in a different class during that block. Ranthia had kind of dreaded trying to learn them, figuring she would struggle desperately with it. ¡­Instead, she was one of the fastest in their small group to pick them up. Her mind was so fucking weird sometimes. Countering Sapient Foes technically had eight students in it. In practice, they were each paired one-on-one with a member of Ranger Team 1. ¡°If a group of classers surrounded you with hostile intent, what would you do first?¡± ¡°Assess their levels, while evading or defending myself against attacks if necessary. I suppose my response would in part depend on who they were. ¡­Sir.¡± Ranthia very nearly forgot the ¡®Sir¡¯. ¡°Oh, please, just call me Kallisto. I¡¯m not in the mood to be all formal with an attractive young woman like you. Now let¡¯s say they¡¯re total strangers this time and you have no idea who might be behind them or why they¡¯re after you, how would that affect your response?¡± The course was a strange mixture of what-if scenarios, army or group tactics, the value of keeping abilities hidden to maximize their advantage, and how to react to different class archetypes and elements. Ranthia enjoyed the class, even if she found her instructor for it a bit much. As for her meetings with Sentinel Hunting¡­ Their first interaction was strange. ¡°I just came here to tell you this to your face. Forget it, I¡¯m not going to teach someone else to be a Void [Mage]! I get too much shit from our allies. Don¡¯t know if I truly buy the shit or not, but I¡¯m not going to inflict that on some kid.¡± From her perspective, she was waiting out on the beach when an angry armored man with a beard¡ªa true rarity in Remus¡ªthat was, inexplicably, blue came up to her and started ranting. ¡°¡­What?¡± Ranthia replied, completely lost. It was just her and Sentinel Hunting (there was zero doubt he was a Sentinel), and fortunately he was less¡­ intense of a presence than Sentinel Night was, even if Hunting¡¯s level was technically higher. [Warrior ¨C Forest] level 502, [Mage ¨C Void] level 547, and [Artisan ¨C Metal] level 14. He was less overwhelming to be around, but it sure didn¡¯t help her understand what was going on! ¡°I was asked to speak with you to help you advance from Dark to Void. But I¡¯m not going to help someone else become a Void [Mage]. I¡¯m not sure what you said to convince Night, but you won¡¯t convince me.¡± The man promised with a steely look in his eyes. Briefly, Ranthia couldn¡¯t explain how anyone knew she was considering trying to gain the Void element, before she realized that she had mentioned it to the Guildmaster exactly once. The bastard cunning man had probably let someone know as part of however he pitched her and the other Adventurers. Still, Hunting seemed to be making a strange assumption¡­ Ranthia decided to start there. ¡°My [Mage] class is Mirror aspected. It¡¯s my second class, my [Warrior] class, that¡¯s currently Dark. I¡¯d been waiting to class up and I¡¯m seriously considering making it Void, though I certainly haven¡¯t asked anyone to help me do it!¡± Ranthia corrected, trying desperately to reign in her budding frustration. Hunting seemed to physically pause for a moment while he considered her words. Then he shrugged, grinned, and plopped right down into the sand to sit down. ¡°Oh, well in that case sit down. I don¡¯t know how this works for Void, so don¡¯t ask, but I do know that each element has different ¡®types¡¯ that can be a little better or worse. Like Fire could be the flames from a campfire or a big grease fire that¡¯s almost impossible to extinguish. I¡¯ve been told by wise men that sometimes meditating on the nature of an advanced element can help you reach for it though. ¡°So, what is Void to you? I should probably let you go first to avoid poisoning the well¡ªdon¡¯t use that phrase around Toxic by the way¡ªbut I¡¯ll go first just to give you an idea. I didn¡¯t have this in mind when I unlocked the element, mind, but it¡¯s how I feel now. To me, Void is an absence. A dark gap that is where something should be, a darkness that eats and erodes all.¡± Ranthia shuddered as she slid back into her long-repressed memories, but at last she spoke in a quiet tone. ¡°No, to me Void is nothingness. It can¡¯t be darkness; darkness is merely the absence of light. But nothing can be absent where nothing exists. Even if you find yourself in such a¡­ Void you begin to scatter and lose yourself. It¡¯s not that it erases or erodes you, it¡¯s just nothing can exist in the Void¡­ There¡¯s no escape, there¡¯s no hope, there¡¯s no existence. There¡¯s only nothingness.¡± ¡°Huh, well that sounds like a hell of a thing.¡± Hunting replied, before he produced a jug of wine and a couple of battered iron cups. They ended up drinking together and just¡­ talking. Later, Ranthia realized why Hunting¡¯s description sounded familiar. In an abstract sort of way, it reminded her of how she felt when Tatius and Pupius had died. It made her wonder if his Void was rooted in grief, but she had enough tact that she¡¯d never ask. But she knew her Void could never be grief. Grief was something. Her Void could never be something, it was a true nothingness. One that Ranthia still believed had eroded some part of her in her brief encounter with it. She had considered the Void element, but she had never quite consciously grasped what Void was to her before. Now that she had, the idea of wielding it haunted her. But, at length, she began to see the appeal in viewing it as a sort of transactional exchange. The Void had taken from her, but instead she could look at it as giving it a piece of herself so that she could master it in turn. It could become the tool that kept her alive and ended anything that threatened her or those she cares about. Time progressed. [Fast Learner], unsurprisingly, absolutely loved the Academy, as did [Ranger¡¯s Lore] of course. Sentinel Hunting was almost never around though, often Ranthia went weeks without seeing him. When he actually showed up, she never quite knew what would happen. Sometimes they just talked and drank together. Sometimes they seriously discussed the Void element or practical skills like tracking monsters. Occasionally he beat her senseless under the guise of sparring. Ranthia wished that she could say she gave as good as she got, but even if they were both [Warrior]/[Mage] hybrids, Hunting had a shitload of levels on her and almost certainly had high quality classes. If anything, she was sure that he was holding back¡ªmassively¡ªsince she never ended up at a [Healer] afterwards, she was only bruised¡ªnever broken. She had figured out that he was almost certainly the Sentinel that killed the monster that had taken her family from her; for some reason Void [Mages] seemed to be a hole in her chaos-given familiarity with the capabilities of different classes and elements. Unfortunately, Hunting seemed to only vaguely recall the beast. To him, she supposed, it had been just another task. No matter how important it had been to her. Ranthia had to admit though, she had grown to like the strangely-bearded man surprisingly quickly. Hunting had a wicked sense of humor once they got comfortable enough to be a bit more open with one another, plus it helped that she was sure that Pupius would have gotten along famously with the Sentinel had they ever hung out. Hunting also often spoke of a companion bond he used to have: an abelisaurus that had caused nearly as many incidents as she had solved, the aptly named Katastrofi. His Katastrofi stories were the best. Ranthia spent days randomly giggling at inopportune moments when her bored mind suddenly recalled some fragment of his story about how Katastrofi got banned from entering Ariminum. In the Abelisaurus¡¯ defense, the senator should have never let their dog run up to the juvenile dinosaur, barking the whole time. Hunting wasn¡¯t the first one to lose control of his animal! Hunting had also given Ranthia a piece of advice that she had never expected one session: ¡°Do yourself the biggest favor ever. Get your second class higher level than your first. Keep it higher, no matter what you have to do. The dwarves and elves¡ªno idea if I¡¯m supposed to tell you about them so keep your mouth shut¡ªanyhow, they do not like Void [Mages]. Nearly had an elf attack me once already on the front. That [Warrior] tag will make your life a shitload easier.¡± It was probably great advice, but Ranthia was almost completely distracted by the revelation that had prompted it. Dwarves and elves! Elves were real! They were part of her knowledge, but she¡¯d never had any context, merely the fact that they were impossible to miss. And yet no one had ever known what they were and she herself had never seen one! Ranthia sometimes doubted her chaos-granted knowledge¡ªit was wrong from time to time after all¡ªbut if elves were real and were from beyond Remus¡¯ borders¡­! ¡­Okay she had no idea what that meant. But her knowledge was right! During one of their more social sessions (and after a lot of wine, the man could drink!), Ranthia mentioned to Hunting that she had once broken her primary class when it got a skill that required a mental image more detailed than she knew how to create. Loosely bearing in mind the advice of her former Guildmaster¡ªthe wiser one from Sardonia¡ªshe avoided getting into the hows or specificity about what the skill did, but she complained about how long it took her to make a mental image that worked properly. And, more importantly, as it turned out, mentioned that she had to use a mirror and even still it took a huge chunk of the day to make an image. The next day Hunting showed her a strip of cloth dyed a deep blue. ¡°What is it?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°New assignment. I talked to a few other Sentinels about what you told me and got some advice that might help you. You¡¯re too focused on what your eyes can see. You should know yourself unerringly. This is a blindfold, I want you to figure out how to make a mental image of yourself, one that has you wearing this over your eyes, with it tied in place. But no mirrors! Do your damned best to avoid even looking at anything reflective until you¡¯ve got it. You can touch the blindfold if you want, but you¡¯re forbidden from picking it up or putting it on you. I¡¯ll get someone out here to hold it for you when I¡¯m not around, but you can¡¯t take it with you either.¡± Okay, maybe Ranthia had explained more than she had thought about how her skills worked. But there was a bigger issue! ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know if I can.¡± Ranthia nervously confessed. She didn¡¯t want to refuse, but she didn¡¯t want to waste time on something that was impossible. She needed to devote time to studying herself to form a fresh image, that was just how it worked. ¡°We Sentinels are asked to do the impossible all the time. As a Ranger you¡¯ll have to figure out the impossible sometimes too. So don¡¯t waste time worrying that you can¡¯t do something, just figure out a way to do it. You¡¯re only allowed to give up when you¡¯ve tried your hardest. ¡­Or died, I guess.¡± Spring was only days away. Sentinel Hunting had returned after a long absence. He kept moving and messing with his left arm in a way that made her suspect he had gone without it for a while. It was a tic that Ranthia had seen before. [Healers] were awesome, but once people got used to life without a limb Ranthia figured¡ªand had half-experienced¡ªthat it could be challenging to get used to having it again. Ranthia had, only recently, finally crafted a mental image she was satisfied with. Using [Image Recall] to make a base was something she had figured out previously and she was pretty sure that she had accomplished the task with that weeks ago¡­ but she never manifested that image. Somehow Ranthia suspected the exercise wasn¡¯t intended as ¡®use a Skill to avoid the majority of the work.¡¯ Ranthia was surprised at just how much her mind recoiled from the idea of lying to or disappointing her mostly-absent mentor who taught her in fits and starts. He wanted her to learn how to visualize herself without examining herself in a mirror; he wanted her to know herself. So that was what she aimed to do. Her earliest attempts had been pretty bad, especially the first one which omitted her face entirely and had a completely incorrect blue cloth sticking out of the otherwise smooth flesh roughly about where the eyes should have been. Slowly she started becoming better at visualizing herself without fresh references. And then it still took a lot of time to become satisfied with making the blindfold sit over her face in a realistic manner. Perfecting its length after it was knotted was no easy feat, especially since she was forbidden from tying a knot in the real thing. Fortunately, the rope she worked with in her sailing course actually gave her some insight into the problem. But she was finally ready. When Ranthia reported her success, Hunting simply nodded, as if he had been dead certain she would have had it by then. She had never been quite so optimistic, but she was more flattered than put out by his nonreaction. Then, he spoke words she definitely wasn¡¯t expecting. ¡°Right, now that you¡¯ve learned more about yourself, it¡¯s time for you to class up your [Warrior] class! I know you probably wanted to wait until you graduate, but we need to see what we¡¯re working with. I¡¯ll personally watch over you and hopefully nothing comes up that pulls me away. If it does, I¡¯ll get at least two of the more trustworthy folk around.¡± Ranthia opened her mouth to reply, but Hunting gave her a look while he picked at his signature blue beard. The look plainly communicated that he expected her to have already started the process. Better to obey, she supposed. ¡°Welcome.¡± Her guide waited, identical to the last time she had seen the woman¡­ quite some time ago. She wasn¡¯t put out over Ranthia¡¯s long absence or anything. She was Ranthia and was always a part of her. Ranthia didn¡¯t need to class up for her guide to experience life. ¡°Okay, I guess let¡¯s not keep Sentinel Hunting waiting. ¡­So weird that I¡¯m getting used to interacting with the Sentinels. They¡¯re not around much but I¡¯ve seen enough of them that the mystique is gone.¡± Ranthia mused to herself. ¡°Then tell me what you seek.¡± Her guide replied. ¡°The Void aspected class that best furthers our goals.¡± Ranthia answered decisively. ¡°As a dancer or as a stealthy killer?¡± Her guide prompted. Ranthia hesitated. Logically, the stealth options were the most effective. The safest. They were the original plan, after all. But her heart was set, it seemed. ¡°Dancer.¡± Ranthia announced without a hint of uncertainty. Her guide saluted in the Remus style with her fist over her heart, which annoyed Ranthia a bit. She watched the woman while she wandered the neat but chaotic rows of short swords. The blades were never stored exactly in the same way between each visit. This time the blades mostly hung from some sort of ceiling mount, hilts down. Her guide would reach up, lift a sword up, then angle it to free it from the mount so she could examine it, then return it. The wait felt longer than usual, but Ranthia suspected a large part of that was the weird guilt that she was wasting a Sentinel¡¯s time. The man was well over twice her level! She could still hardly believe it, but his face only turned hard every time she had tried to ask how she might get comparable level growth. But, at length, her guide returned with two short swords in hand. ¡°This sword reflects exactly what you requested.¡± Her guide announced before she removed her hand from the grip of the blade and set it down. The hilt was wrapped in dark yellow, with a pommel stone¡ªcarved in the familiar shape of the symbol of the five gods¡ªmade of a lustrous black gemstone that she wasn¡¯t immediately familiar with, but it wasn¡¯t quite as glossy as Dark¡¯s obsidian. Ranthia lowered her hand and caressed the blade¡¯s hilt. [Blade Dancer ¨C Void]. Feel the rhythm of battle. Embrace the tempo. Become the force of chaos that changes the battle. Dominate it and gracefully flow through. Reduce those that move against you to nothingness. +7 Free Stats, +15 Strength, +25 Dexterity, +20 Vitality, +18 Speed, +5 Mana, +5 Mana Regeneration, +3 Magic Power, +5 Magic Control. Ranthia was still staring at it in awe when her guide suddenly set down the other blade. ¡°Just so you know what you¡¯re sacrificing. Void element. A fairly direct upgrade to [Sudden End].¡± ¡°Fuck me.¡± Ranthia hissed. ¡°No matter what you have attempted with your images, please leave me out of it. I respectfully decline.¡± Her guide replied in a completely serious tone. Ranthia sputtered for a moment, spat an embarrassed curse at her guide¡ªat herself¡ªand returned her attention to the other blade. It was¡­ very yellow, but that was green wrapping on the hilt! The pommel stone was the same lustrous black mineral. [The Final Knife ¨C Void]. Your knives are the last things that your opponents will ever see, assuming you even grant them an opportunity to see the blades that end their lives. Now go forth and end all that would oppose you or deny chaos. +40 Strength, +50 Dexterity, +30 Vitality, +30 Speed, +3 Mana, +3 Mana Regeneration, +3 Magic Power. ¡°Fuck everything, those starts are¡­ Why did you have to show me this?!¡± Ranthia demanded as she yanked her hand away from the blade. It didn¡¯t make her heart sing like dancing did! She couldn¡¯t just be a slave to the most efficient path towards survival. She wanted to live. She wanted to dance. She wanted Hexara. She wanted rabbit stew. Her stomach growled¡ªnot that she experienced true hunger while in the world within¡ªwhich broke her out of her spiral. ¡°Because we both know the class is growing in a different direction, but you needed to be aware of what that means.¡± Her guide lifted the blade that represented [Blade Dancer] and offered it to Ranthia. Ranthia took the blade and¡­ gods, it felt like it was made for her hand. The balance and shape were like a dream. It wasn¡¯t the ideal path towards power, but it was the path that spoke to her. [The Final Knife] was merely a tool, but this¡­ this was passion. ¡°Sold. Thank you.¡± Ranthia smiled at her other self, before the two bowed¡ªproperly¡ªto one another in unison. After Ranthia returned the short sword that had represented [Sudden End], the new blade was sheathed, across from [Shards of Reflection]. And with that, she made her exit. ¡°What did you get?¡± Hunting asked as soon as the classing up lights vanished from around the girl. ¡°What I truly needed.¡± Ranthia replied, with a large grin on her face. [*ding!* Congratulations! You¡¯ve upgraded your second class ¨C [Blade Dancer ¨C Void]!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Blade Dancer] has leveled up from 128 to level 177! +7 Free Stats, +15 Strength, +25 Dexterity, +20 Vitality, +18 Speed, +5 Mana, +5 Mana Regeneration, +3 Magic Power, +5 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +2 Mana from your element.] [*ding!* Your skill [Dark Affinity] has evolved into [Void Affinity]!] [*ding!* [Void Affinity] has leveled from 128 to level 177!] [*ding!* Your skill [Knives & War] has evolved into [The Flow of Battle]!] [The Flow of Battle]: Gauge the flow of battle, predict the moves that will come. And then cut through with your blades. Increased prowess per level. -1200 Mana Regen Rate. [*ding!* [The Flow of Battle] has leveled from 128 to level 177!] [*ding!* Your skill [Blades of Darkness] has evolved into [Void Edge]!] [Void Edge]: Apply an almost imperceptibly tiny stretch of void energy across the outermost edge of any knife you wield. [*ding!* [Void Edge] has leveled from 128 to level 177!] [*ding!* Your skill [Shadowed Steps] has evolved into [Steps into the Void]!] [Steps into the Void]: A subtle trace of void energy erases all sound from your footsteps while active. This effect applies to no other sound you might cause, so never allow the sin of clumsiness to mar your graceful movements. Also slightly increases the stability of your footing. Increased stability per level. -888 Mana Regen Rate. [*ding!* [Strengthen Blade] has leveled from 128 to level 177!] [*ding!* Would you like to evolve [Dodging] into [A Void Dance]?] Oh, fuck YES! [*ding!* Your skill [Dodging] has evolved into [A Void Dance]!] [A Void Dance]: While you read the flow of battle, your motions more readily transition with grace to respond to your predictions of what is to come. In this state it is easier to dodge, parry, or otherwise avoid attacks and obstacles that would otherwise interfere with you. Increased avoidance capability per level. -928 Mana Regen Rate. [*ding!* Notice ¨C [A Void Dance] has lost levels from 221 to level 177.] Well, that was a lot to unpack! [Critical Strike], [Strengthen Blade], and [Cross Strike] had no evolutionary changes, which at least in [Critical Strike]¡¯s case was a bit disappointing¡­ sometimes she really questioned just how much that skill helped. On the bright side, [Dodging] finally got absorbed into her [Warrior] class and [A Void Dance] sounded like an amazing skill for avoi¡ª ¡°Augh, what is with the System and terrible names for classes and skills?!¡± Ranthia screeched when the pun suddenly dawned on her. She tried to ignore Hunting¡¯s fit of laughter and focused on her skills again. Anyway, her new dodging skill sounded like it was a direct upgrade in every way. Though she was somewhat nervous since the description seemed to suggest that it had picked up a conditional requirement for her to be focused and in battle. Would it no longer help with ambushes? ¡­Somehow, she doubted that it was quite so restricted, especially with [Combat Awareness] helping her. She didn¡¯t have hard information, but when she thought it through, she strongly suspected that the skill would still help her avoid unexpected blows or other obstacles, even when she wasn¡¯t technically engaged in a ¡®battle¡¯. [Void Edge] had a major change from [Blades of Darkness]. The old skill covered the entire blade of her weapon, but [Void Edge] only affected the edge of her knives. This meant the skill wouldn¡¯t be able to assist with protecting her knives, and she¡¯d need to land a proper blow to deal damage. ¡­It also meant [Mirrored Moves] just got an unexpected and severe downgrade, if the technique for [Void Edge] was truly almost imperceptible. Still, she was eager to see what [Void Edge] could do! [Steps into the Void] also promised to be a significant improvement for her. [Shadowed Steps] had only reduced the volume of her footfalls, but the new skill claimed to wholly erase all sound from her footsteps while it was active? The increased stability for her footing was potentially even more interesting, though she needed to experiment to see just how slight of an effect it was and when it would apply. Of course, the flipside to the skill meant she risked getting sloppier with her foot placement if she could rely on the skill fixing it, something that might spell death when it failed. It was something to bear in mind. Ranthia tried to jump up and found herself clumsy. She overshot and ended up face-planting into the sand. What on Pallos¡­? ¡°¡­Oh Xaoc, my strength over doubled, and my speed nearly doubled. Fuck, this is going to take a while to get used to.¡± Ranthia grumbled. The System compensated for a lot, but major stat shifts still took a bit of effort to get used to. Her body was suddenly much stronger and more responsive. She¡¯d adapt, but she needed a little time. ¡°Well, we better begin working on that. Come on! I¡¯ll be sure to let your instructors know you¡¯ll be missing class tomorrow.¡± Hunting pulled her up to her feet with a grin, before he took off at what she had no doubt he considered to be a light jog. Ranthia tried to sprint after him, cursing the entire time. [Name: Ranthia] [Species: Human] [Age: 19] [Mana: 19120/19120] [Mana Regen Rate: 6779] [Stats:] [Free Stats: 392] [Strength: 1041] [Dexterity: 2970] [Vitality: 2169] [Speed: 1997] [Mana: 1912] [Mana Regeneration: 2227] [Magic Power: 1618] [Magic Control: 1396] [Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (221)]] [Mirror Spirit: 221] [Scattered Reflections: 221] [Echoes Reflected: 96] [Reflective Motility: 221] [Persistent Imagery: 221] [Mirrored Moves: 63] [Distorted Likeness: 84] [Reflections of Reality: 63] [Class 2: [Blade Dancer ¨C Void (177)]] [Void Affinity: 177] [The Flow of Battle: 177] [Void Edge: 177] [Critical Strike: 119] [Steps into the Void: 121] [Strengthen Blade: 177] [Cross Strike: 106] [A Void Dance: 177] [Class 3: Locked] [General Skills:] [Divine-Touched Identify: 221] [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 63] [Ranger¡¯s Lore: 122] - [Combat Awareness: 221] [Fast Learner: 163] [Image Recall: 134] [Sexy: 200] Book 1 - Chapter 34 - Blind Faith Hunting was true to his word; he stuck around and trained Ranthia back into comfort with her body and her capabilities personally. Ranthia was mostly certain that he wasn¡¯t trying to kill her, but every single exercise persisted and escalated until she was within moments of collapse. It was hard to not hate him at the time. ¡­Especially when he asked her to tell him about her classes and every skill she had. Ranthia tried answering vaguely, but¡­ ¡°Nope, you¡¯re telling me everything. That¡¯s a direct order, Trainee.¡± For a brief moment the man wasn¡¯t the affable drinking buddy with the sharp wit. He was a Sentinel once again, with the full weight of his overwhelming levels and unparalleled experience behind him. Ranthia swallowed the obscenities that she wanted to scream and forced herself¡ªagainst every instinct and her favorite Guildmaster¡¯s instruction¡ªto give Hunting the full details of exactly what her classes and skills did, along with the levels of everything¡­ minus [Divine-Touched Identify] (she had some sense). The fact that this extended her break wasn¡¯t even enjoyable! ¡°Right, new rules for you. As of this moment you¡¯re barred from using your first class to its full potential whether you¡¯re in battle or sparring. I¡¯ll get back to you on how much of your first class you can use, but the goal is to rely primarily, preferably exclusively, on your [Warrior] class. Your goal is to get your second class to a higher level than your first before the Academy concludes. And if you get [Shards of Reflection] to 256 you can¡¯t class it up until your second class has a comfortable lead.¡± Hunting commanded. ¡°What would be a comfortable lead?¡± Ranthia asked, putting in the effort to keep her tone respectful. She was still angry, and this was not helping! ¡°I¡¯ll leave that up to you, just don¡¯t disappoint me. I¡¯m serious that this might just save your life if you encounter any elves, dwarves, and probably others. If they see you use a Void ability while you¡¯re [Mage] tagged, you do not have the levels to make them second guess their chances. I can take care of myself, but you¡¯re not there yet. So, get your [Warrior] tag showing and keep it showing. Now why are you still lying around? Get your ass up and try to keep up!¡± The man ordered before he took off, bound straight for the Nostrum Sea. Ranthia muttered unkind things to herself as she hurriedly scrambled to her feet¡ªkicking sand everywhere in the process¡ªand took off after him. Swimming in the Nostrum was awful! Mock sparring was the final part of the day. The sun had set¡­ at some point¡ªRanthia¡¯s grasp of time was fairly fuzzy by then. And Hunting was insisting that they had to keep a conversation going, while she failed utterly at dancing around his punches, and he effortlessly defended against her wooden knives. (Seriously, how was it fair that he could flick the sides of her stand-in knives with his fingers and deflect her attacks so easily?!) Ranthia had been swapping her old Adventurer stories for Sentinel stories. But she was getting punch drunk after taking so many blows from Hunting. The impacts left her scrambled and, at some point, she had twisted things into trying to one-up the man. Which was plainly idiotic, Sentinels got into way wilder situations than she ever had. But Hunting was loath to bring up his role in the Formorian War or the Shimagu War, which gave her a false sense of hope. It didn¡¯t take long for her to get forced to unleash her war goblin story, the wildest tale that she possessed. And then Hunting effortlessly surpassed it with a story about the Sentinels rolling over a crime syndicate that tried to take something from one of their number. He was cagey about the specifics¡ªand spent far too long complaining about being forced to shave his beard¡ªbut Ranthia had to admit, it bested her best. Then again, she had a fondness for greedy idiocy reaping brutal rewards. ¡°So, my first memory I have is of dying.¡± Ranthia¡¯s mouth flapped before she quite realized what she was doing. Ranthia liked Hunting, a lot. Not in a romantic or physical attraction sort of way (gross), but he was a good person. He reminded her in a weird way of¡­ well, it was almost (kind of) like Tatius and Pupius merged into a single being. But she had been so frustrated with Night dragging the story out of her, so she was more than a little surprised when she finally realized that she was blabbing the details out to Hunting. It didn¡¯t stop her from finishing the story. Though it did take her entirely too long to notice that a strange look had crossed Hunting¡¯s face while he shoved her attacks aside, no matter how she tried to adjust her angles. ¡°What is it?¡± Ranthia finally asked. ¡°Sentinel Dawn has been missing for¡­ nearly six years now. But I swear I keep running into changes she made and lives she touched.¡± Hunting muttered. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Ranthia asked, her curiosity piqued. ¡°Kid, did no one ever tell you? The only young [Healer] Ranger we had back then was Sentinel Dawn.¡± Ranthia froze as she grappled with that. She had never known! She had heard of Sentinel Dawn, of course. She¡¯d heard an incessant amount about the woman, to be honest, but she had never known the connection. She had¡ª She had utterly failed to even notice Hunting¡¯s punch before it connected with her face. The sun had risen sometime before Ranthia finally came to. She ached and the first thing she did was work her jaw and the very sore muscles of her bruised face. She kept her eyes shut but she could feel him hovering over her, so finally she opened her eyes to Hunting¡¯s very smug smirk. ¡°Never let your opponent distract you.¡± He helpfully recommended. Ranthia could only respond with groaned obscenities. She wasn¡¯t at her best so she got rather repetitive and was nowhere near as imaginative as she would have preferred. But her filter was thoroughly broken after that sucker punch. Fortunately for her, Hunting found the whole thing hilarious. ¡°Up and at ¡®em. I was going to send you back to your normal schedule today, but I¡¯ve got something I want to test with you after you eat breakfast.¡± Hunting finally announced once she started to trail off. Hunting was sprawled out in the sand in a slothful lounging position, with a pile of smooth rocks next to his head. The game was simple. Hunting had a large arcanite crystal hauled out for it too. Ranthia was to make however many images she felt were necessary and shift however she wanted. Then she¡¯d try to hit Hunting with the (pointy) rock she had cradled in her hands. If she hit him first, she won. He was barred from moving until she started to move, and even then he could only move his arm. If he grabbed a rock and struck whichever body she was in with it before she could loose her stone, he won. The game was repeated until she won¡ªwith a promised nonspecific prize!¡ªor she gave up. He refused to answer what this was supposed to teach her, but she was down for it. Especially since her true body was securely stowed a safe distance away. That prize was as good as hers! A rock bounced off Ranthia¡¯s shoulder painfully. Okay, that was valid, she was only using a single image with [Reflective Motility] timed exactly to her own movements. Hunting had a 50-50 shot. A rock smacked into Ranthia¡¯s stomach almost the instant she started to wind back. She¡¯d been using three other images that time! Was this meant to prove she was still sloppy with making [Reflective Motility] realistic? Ranthia had been repeatedly bruised, but she had learned a lot since the last gong. She was pretty sure she had found a number of ways to make her duplicates move more realistically. Once she set up again, she was sure the next throw had it. It did not. The rock bounced off her chest and left her cursing. A tunic did not provide any protection from that! Ranthia was certain that she had tried everything. She¡¯d tried making staggered throws using her images with the real one buried a couple deep. She¡¯d tried synchronized throws with groups so large it felt like her mind wanted to melt under the strain of using so many images. She¡¯d tried so many permutations and adjustments. Then she finally tried channeling [Reflections of Reality] and shifting to a different body mid-throw. A rock caught her in the lip before she could even loose the stone. Hunting was calling out his apology before she even managed to screech in agonized frustration. The impact had split her lip and already sand was blowing into the wound on the light breeze. ¡°Gods, why?! Your stats can¡¯t possibly be so high that nothing works! What was the point of this exercise, just to ruin my pride?!¡± Ranthia shouted¡ªfar louder than she had meant to¡ªafter she retreated back to her true body. ¡°They are, but you got better with your doubles. And yeah, ruining your pride was exactly the goal. The problem is your images have a major flaw, one that meant a single one of my skills bested you. [Hunter¡¯s Assessment] found you instantly every time.¡± Hunting replied lazily, still comfortably lounged. ¡°And what does that do, instantly analyze my scents or something?¡± Ranthia sourly demanded. ¡°It¡¯s [Identify], just mine can be used on an area instead of an individual. None of your images return anything, only the body you¡¯re in.¡± He explained in a bored tone. Ranthia almost tripped over her own feet. After processing what he said, about the only thing she could do was to curse. ¡°Yup, don¡¯t use that on a clever, thinking opponent. Not unless you can completely overwhelm their ability to [Identify] you. Something to bear in mind when you work to improve that class, after you get your [Warrior] class up higher.¡± Hunting summarized. Her beloved survival class really was just fucking cursed, wasn¡¯t it. Hunting had left her to practice the graceful motions that [The Flow of Battle] wanted to use while she trained with her knives and excused himself for ¡®a bit¡¯. Ranthia was more than a little glad to be alone for a while. She was feeling downright surly. Her pride was in absolute shambles and she was feeling more than a little sorry for herself over learning of yet another major problem with [Shards of Reflection]. Still, dancing helped. It was fun and she was really growing fond of how [Steps into the Void] subtly helped her footing. Even on the loose sand her footwork¡¯s stability felt the same as dancing on stone. Overall, the rhythm and grace of the dance felt like they came easier than ever to her¡ªwhich made sense given her Skills were finally attuned to dancing. Late in the evening, Ranthia was about to assume something had come up. She was¡ªquite literally¡ªmoments away from heading back to the villa when she noticed Hunting¡¯s approach. He was followed by several servants from the villa, each bearing supplies. While Ranthia watched¡ªcurious and heavily distracted from her practice¡ªhe had the servants set their loads down and leave. He soon had a large, healthy campfire going and placed an iron grate over it, balanced in the sands atop a few large rocks. Then a large, tall pot was placed on that as he filled it with water and started cubing potatoes and vegetables into it with a large hunting knife. Once the vegetables were underway, he removed three big, healthy¡ªand obviously freshly killed¡ªrabbits from a sack that had been clipped to his belt and waved Ranthia over. Sat together, they skinned and prepared the rabbits and added them to the pot. Then mentor and mentee enjoyed a social, friendly evening together while they shared large bowls of fresh rabbit stew. It was definitely going to be another treasured memory for her, she had no doubt. The man knew exactly how to bribe her into forgiving him for his role in her emotional turmoil. Sentinel Hunting had personally informed each of her instructors to be understanding about her absence. And they were, each understood it. Almost all of them still buried Ranthia under makeup assignments and self-studies that she had no idea how she was going to handle with how heavy of a course load she had been assigned. Maybe if she rushed her meals and outright skipped lunch¡­Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Then there was the accursed windbag in charge of Fundamentals of Imperial Law. He simply complained about how Sentinels think that they can just change the world with a few words, then told her to bother one of the other trainees if she hoped to learn what she had dared to miss. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe you take such high quality notes.¡± Ranthia repeated, yet again. She was sitting with Kaesios during their lunch break, idly eating a chunk of unbuttered bread with one hand while she reviewed his notes. The scrolls were remarkably thorough and meticulous. He somehow had even made notations of what aspects of the lessons he considered most important or practical to focus on. ¡°You¡¯re surprised that the only other Mirror classer you know¡ªwho has Mirage for his first class¡ªhas learned to pay close attention to things. After over forty years of life.¡± The man deadpanned. Yeah, she was a bit jealous. They were friends, yes, but Kaesios consistently showed her up at the Academy. She¡¯d long known that he was the terror of the sparring fields. His custom-made thin great sword and his Mirage copies of his sword¡¯s blade¡ªwith some of them made mostly real by his Mirror class¡ªwere hard for anyone to counter. Only conventional [Mages] and the three trainees who had Radiance abilities that stripped away illusions stood a chance. And now she knew that he was better at the learning side than she was too! ¡°You know what I mean! This stuff isn¡¯t the same.¡± Ranthia retorted. ¡°Ha! Yeah, you got me. Truth is I spent a super brief bit of time as a guard. Been kinda interesting to see how the laws changed since then, or at least from how the captain thought they were.¡± He admitted with a grin. Ranthia could only stare at Kaesios in mildly exaggerated horror. He cuffed her. ¡°Don¡¯t you start, or I¡¯ll take my notes away and you¡¯ll get kicked out and probably arrested. Again.¡± He scolded. She wasn¡¯t even going to ask how he knew about that. The remaining trainees had been grouped into units of eight again and told to gather that morning in front of the island docks after breakfast instead of their usual coursework. Ranthia mildly resented the fact that none of the other Adventurers were in her group; they made up a significant enough portion of the remaining trainees that several other groups had at least two. Instead¡­ There was the guy whose name started with B, or maybe it was G. Or at least something that sounded like one of those, she assumed. He was an ex-guard (she truly couldn¡¯t escape them) and was equipped with a staff. Then there was the guy with a big saber-tooth tiger that insisted on sitting in his lap like a friggin¡¯ housecat every time he sat down. The saber-tooth tiger¡¯s name was Bitey, which was remarkably easy for even Ranthia to remember. Especially after it nearly bit her when she tried to pet it, with permission. There were also four [Mages] that had almost immediately bonded into their own little mage-clique: one Earth, one Metal, one Spore, and the other a mix of Radiance and Brilliance. Ranthia had no grasp of any of their names, but the Radiance/Brilliance one was, somehow, the lowest level. She was possibly a touch put out that none of them had invited her to their little [Mage] club. Then there was Night¡¯s apprentice, Statia. The wonderous girl with the restriction skill that had everyone constantly talking about her. Ranthia hadn¡¯t ever spoken to her before, yet her name had stuck through sheer repetition. Statia was armed with the typical spear and short sword that most Rangers carried, along with a round wooden shield and¡ªmore exotically¡ªa sash filled with throwing knives. Like the others, Ranthia was armored and geared up. Except not in her own armor, the instructors had issued her one of the ill-fitting generic sets from the island¡¯s armory, like everyone else. Instructor Artillery Mage C¡ªhey, it was memorable¡ªapproached their group and had them fall in on him. They boarded a ship that departed once other groups and instructors boarded. The trainees just kind of milled around¡ªthe sailing course had greatly helped the sea legs of those that were in it¡ªuntil the docks were in sight, then their instructors called their groups back together. ¡°Okay, on arrival we¡¯ll be doing things a bit different than the others. Trainee Ranthia! You¡¯ll be heading straight for the main temple, get there as quick as you can. You have an appointment with Priest Aeschylus, on order of Sentinel Night, and we¡¯re a bit later getting underway than we meant to be. Hurry once we¡¯re at land. ¡°Trainee Statia, you and I will be heading to the government district for your meeting with the E-¡­¡± he coughed, ¡°well you already know the details. ¡°The rest of you will head to the colosseum. Tell someone that works there that you¡¯re part of group C-8. Don¡¯t forget! Trainee Ranthia, you¡¯ll head there when you¡¯re done too. Trainee Statia and I will join you once we finish.¡± Artillery Mage C¡¯s group of 8. Even Ranthia was confident that she would be able to memorize that. While the ship pulled into the docks, Instructor Artillery Mage C, Statia, and Ranthia leapt from the ship and sprinted past the cursing dockhands. They made their way into Ariminum proper and split up immediately, each at the best run they could make. Oddly, it felt like it was the instructor that slowed the two young women down. Then again, he was a pure [Mage]. Freed of the burden once they split, Ranthia settled into an all out run, using a lane usually reserved for couriers. A good courier could still outrun her, but with just shy of 2000 speed she could outrun many that used the lane. Plus, her ability to dodge around obstacles or other couriers probably outstripped nearly anyone that used the lane too, which helped her save precious moments. In short order she arrived at the temple, barely even winded. She paused a moment to fix her hair a bit, muttered to herself that she wished she could get it cut properly, then strolled in. ¡°Can I help you?¡± One of the acolytes asked once she walked past the turn towards the vaults. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here for an appointment with¡ª¡± Her problems with names struck once again. ¡°With¡­?¡± The acolyte prompted. ¡°¡­The priest in charge of dealing with god-touched stuff?¡± She guessed, weakly. ¡°¡­Priest Aeschylus?¡± ¡°Yes, Priest A-¡­ what you said.¡± Her face burned while the exasperated acolyte led her a short distance, then handed her off to a different [Priest] who walked her through the back end of the temple. Fortunately, he seemed disinclined to say anything (or perhaps he had sworn a vow of silence?). At last, he knocked on a plain door, then opened it and gestured for her to enter. She bowed quickly to the priest that escorted her. ¡°May Xaoc be with you.¡± Ranthia offered. It seemed to be the proper thing to say. The priest did seem slightly pleased as he left, she thought. She entered the room to find it small and plain, with a desk in the center and a chair on either side of it. A carved wooden symbol of the five gods hung on the walls but otherwise it was remarkably barren. Granted in a room that size it would have felt cramped rather quickly with more furnishings. The [Priest] was younger than she expected, maybe just barely into his 30s, if that. He simply smiled at her and set aside the scroll he had been reading, then pulled a tea set to the center of his desk. ¡°Welcome, welcome. You must be Ranthia, the Ranger trainee?¡± ¡°Yes, and you must be Priest¡­ I was supposed to meet?¡± Ranthia not-quite-smoothly pivoted. The priest chuckled and gestured for her to sit across from him at the desk. She sat and he started preparing to pour tea into his own cup. ¡°How do you take your tea? I have fresh cream and honey, if you like.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never actually had it with either before, so I¡¯ll try it however you recommend?¡± The priest nodded and smiled. Soon a delicate little cup filled with liquid was placed in front of her. She lifted it and tried a sip. ¡°It¡­ tastes like cream and honey with a hint of leaves?¡± Ranthia had no idea what to make of it; it was sweet. ¡°Haha, yes it does! I must confess I¡¯m not much of a fan of tea, so I prefer my tea to taste as little of it as politely possible.¡± Ranthia had no idea how to take the priest¡¯s behavior. Was he trying to get her guard down? Was he just a silly man? Was he treating her like a kid? ¡°I¡­ see¡­? Um¡­ Should we begin¡­?¡± Ranthia felt so out of her depth. Somehow the young [Priest] in service to Xaoc was less off-putting to her than this guy! ¡°Sure! This job is largely terrible, I¡¯m no Priest Demos, but at least I can finally ask my favorite questions: what¡¯s your bestowal and how strong is it?¡± The man suddenly seemed more eager, but it was restrained. The effect reminded Ranthia of someone that once had a major passion and interest in something, but had it turned into a constant task and had grown to resent it to a certain extent. Where the resentment had grown to the point that he didn¡¯t quite hate his former interest, but it had become a bit too routine. ¡°What¡¯s a bestowal?¡± Ranthia felt even more lost. ¡°It¡¯s like a skill granted by the gods! Usually lists at the end of your system information about yourself. After either the general skills or your second class¡¯ skills, depending on your settings.¡± Ranthia blinked and consulted her system information. There was nothing there that she had ever noticed. ¡­Wasn¡¯t there? Her ¡®eye¡¯ almost seemed to catch something. But she brushed it off, there couldn¡¯t possibly be anything there. There never had been. ¡°Nothing like that, just Xaoc reincarnated me Himself.¡± The priest seemed vaguely disappointed, but he nodded. ¡°Tell me everything.¡± His serious face was on. ¡°I don¡¯t remember my past life, beyond a few vague impressions. I had been a [Paladin] in service to Xaoc. I was in some sort of battle or duel or something. I lost. My weapon¡ªwhatever it was¡ªwas knocked out of my hand and then I was on the ground. Then something went through my back. Next thing I knew I was an 8-year-old girl whose system just unlocked, back in Perinthus. ¡°I had just been cured of the plagues that were ravaging there by, well, Sentinel Dawn from back when she was just a Ranger. I had no idea what was going on. When I tried to remember, I found extra memories of meeting with Xaoc. I¡­ don¡¯t know if I can recall His words exactly and I wouldn¡¯t dare repeat them verbatim either way. In essence though, He said I was too orderly, and He wanted to temper me with further chaos as a mortal, so I could become a worthy angel someday.¡± Ranthia had slightly lied with that¡ªshe knew the words. Even if they were¡­ difficult to recall in a strange way she couldn¡¯t quite explain. Still she shared what she needed to before she paused to take another sip of honey-cream with leaf juice. The look on the Priest¡¯s face had gotten a bit sickly, so she decided to push him a bit. ¡°I never had¡ªand never regained¡ªany memories of my¡­ Ranthia¡¯s¡­ life from her first eight years. I have no recall of who or what I was in my prior life, aside from what I¡¯ve said. I don¡¯t know if Xaoc placed me into the body of a girl that had died or if He unwound time and shoved information into my head just as I unlocked the system, which took the place of the childish nonsense I should have known.¡± His face grew visibly pale. She was outright messing with him. She had long since discarded the idea that Xaoc had undone time just for her. Beyond the idea of what it would have cost Him¡ªincluding convincing the other gods to go along with it¡ªit just felt far too out of character. Still, she had briefly nursed the idea as a kid, so she wanted to weaponize it against the [Priest] that seemed to be somehow uncomfortable discussing the divine. It was more petty than chaotic, admittedly. ¡°I had a head full of what I came to realize was chaotic, random knowledge. I had an innate understanding of the System and knew all of the advanced elements. This let me plan my own build out this time around, since I could never become a [Paladin] in this life. Xaoc wanted me to be something different this time around. ¡°Like as an example I knew bandits existed and what they were. But I didn¡¯t recognize what I now know is an incredibly common trap for bandits to set. Similarly, I knew some other¡­ things. ¡°Oh, and I also got some real combat skills offered when I was a freshly unlocked eight-year-old, which by everything I know about who I¡ªRanthia¡ªused to be, had to have come from my prior life.¡± She paused and hesitated. The [Priest] had seemed to gradually recover, unfortunately. So she decided to press a little harder. ¡°¡­I also have definitely gotten higher quality classes than I should from my own merits. Like, my class unlocked skills that I was never expecting this early. I¡¯ve always assumed this was a gift from Xaoc. Well, I got them after I reset my class when I didn¡¯t get what I needed the first time around, but I was still low level.¡± Okay, that backfired. Partway through Ranthia felt incredibly uncomfortable admitting that out loud. It was both self-depreciating and hopelessly arrogant at the same time! She had regrets. ¡°Ahem, actually I suspect it might be the case that you earned them through your own achievements. While direct divine intervention is possible, nothing in my experience suggests that it is probable that one of the five would act in such a manner. You seem to have forgotten; you have two lifetimes of achievements to draw upon. I find it far more probable that the system began to react to your prior life once you reset your class. Why, I couldn¡¯t say, but the study of the system stretches back across our entire history, and you are almost certainly still an unusual outlier.¡± The priest replied. Ranthia wanted to dismiss the man¡¯s words, but she forced herself to face them. On the surface it felt downright absurd to be backed by merits from feats she had zero recollection of. But her path in both of her classes had been fairly smooth. She had accomplished more than a few things in her time, but how many feats were truly her own and not just part of a team effort? Fighting a small war band of goblins that partly out leveled her? Then there was how readily her warrior class changed and evolved from simply watching a dancer exactly once. ¡°I¡­ I will have to meditate on that.¡± Ranthia finally confessed after a long silence. ¡°Yes, you have given me¡­ quite a bit to meditate on myself, I admit. Gods, to think Xaoc may have undone the progress of time! Oh, I should never have let them force me into this position. I will sleep poorly for weeks, I assure you.¡± The man abruptly looked significantly less like a [Priest] and more like an acolyte far out of his depth. ¡­And godsdamnit, she felt sorry for him in spite of her initial distaste for the man. ¡°Why did you, then?¡± Ranthia asked, before she could stop herself. ¡°Enthusiasm and interest can be punished severely in this line of work. Priest Demos passed away after he called down a miracle from his god, using a lifetime of devotion to save humanity from the formorians¡¯ final onslaught. ¡°Suddenly no one could do what he did, which included interacting with the god-touched to learn of them and whether or not they might be dangerous. I had¡­ a childish interest in those blessed by gods, out of an enthusiastic dream that I might someday receive one myself. So, the very day I became a full [Priest], I was told I would assume his duties on those matters. And that was that.¡± The priest seemed more than a little bitter and regretful in his vulnerable moment. Then he blinked and smoothed his expression back to solemn formality. ¡°But I should not have said all of that to someone sent to me.¡± He admitted. Ranthia chuckled good-naturedly. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it to myself. I miiight have been trying to get under your skin a bit, a touch of revenge because I felt so uncomfortable at first.¡± She admitted. They both returned to their (overly) sweet beverages for a moment. ¡°I shall have to endeavor to work on making people feel more comfortable then, my apologies. That said, I think I have gotten what I need from you. At least I can record honestly that nothing granted to you by your patron deity can be considered harmful or dangerous to Remus.¡± He decided. ¡°Oh, one last thing. I was told you have an oath related to Xaoc?¡± The priest added right before Ranthia got her hopes up that she was done. ¡°Yes, [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc].¡± She replied, hoping he wouldn¡¯t ask to hear it. ¡°I see. ¡­Wait, did you say with or to?¡± The man had become pale again. ¡°With. Why?¡± She asked, curious. ¡°¡­I¡­ I see. Thank you¡­ I think¡­ I think that¡¯s everything.¡± The man was clearly shaken, but Ranthia had no idea why. And in that moment, she really didn¡¯t care. ¡°So, I¡¯m done?¡± Ranthia hoped. ¡°Y-Yes, I think we are done¡­ I¡­ Thank you for your time, madam Ranger.¡± ¡°Have a nice day!¡± Ranthia called out, not even noticing the incorrect appellation. She was already making her way out of the room, a bit more swiftly than was strictly polite. Her rush had less to do with the discomfort she had felt with the priest and far more to do with the fact that the meeting had been faster than she expected. She knew that she probably, strictly speaking, should head straight to the colosseum. But her heart demanded a detour. Once again, she ran. ¡°Is Hexara in?¡± Ranthia asked as soon as she was inside the salon. The woman behind the desk nodded and pointed at a door. Ranthia didn¡¯t give her time to speak the words that she was about to form, nor did she waste precious moments trying to decide whether or not she recognized the woman. Instead, she opened the door and jogged as quickly as she dared in the salon. Hexara was with a customer, but Ranthia wholly ignored the other woman¡¯s presence. Instead, she sprinted over and hugged her girlfriend the instant that Hexara¡ªvisibly surprised¡ªrealized that it was her. Ranthia kissed her. For a brief moment, all was right with the world. ¡°I can¡¯t stay, I¡¯m not supposed to be here. I just had to see you. I miss you. I love you and I promise I¡¯ll visit as soon as I get a real chance!¡± Ranthia was off again, unable to wait for a response from Hexara. She was too afraid that she would linger if she got a chance to hear her girlfriend¡¯s voice. Halfway to the colosseum, Ranthia tripped over her own feet. She very nearly faceplanted into the stones that paved the road, even with her dexterity and Skills. Ranthia had finally realized just what she had said. Neither of them had ever used the L-word before! Not like that! Ranthia felt like her entire body was blushing and overheating as she awkwardly¡ªand much more slowly¡ªmade her way to the colosseum. Oh Xaoc, what had she done!? Book 1 - Chapter 35 - Blindfolds & Bloodsports Ranthia had mostly¡­ almost¡­ kind of (ish) recovered from her L-word-induced freakout by the time she arrived. Though the sight of the colosseum cooled her off immensely. Gods she swore she could almost smell blood in the air, even before she entered the damned thing. She hadn¡¯t let herself wonder why they were there, but for the first time in a while she was sorely tempted to just turn around and leave. The silver gong¡ªjust a terrible swim away¡ªcalled to her. Why on Pallos did the Ranger Academy want them participating in such horrific horseshit?! ¡°Ah, Trainee Ranthia, excellent!¡± Instructor Mage C¡¯s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He and Statia were standing near an entrance and he waved her over. ¡°The others should be coming out of the stands any moment now.¡± He continued. ¡°Is everything okay?¡± Statia asked once Ranthia reached them. Statia was, roughly, somewhere around Ranthia¡¯s age, maybe a bit younger. Her hair was senselessly long, in a rich, nutty dark brown color that was only a few shades lighter than Ranthia¡¯s own. The young woman used to be wispy thin, but she had really gained some definition from her time at the Ranger Academy. ¡°Um, yeah.¡± Ranthia replied while they walked through tunnels, led by their instructor. Her blush was mostly under control, but its final remnants refused to go away since her mind helpfully reminded her of her words almost constantly. No matter how she tried to distract herself from her lovesick embarrassment. The other young woman had been about to ask a follow-up question when the other trainees arrived, shortly after the trio reached a poorly lit room. There they got lined up in front of their instructor. ¡°Alright, those of you that have been watching the other matches might have figured this out, but the eight of you will be part of this morning¡¯s entertainment! We¡¯re going to have you all fight a creature that the colosseum sourced, as a team. I wasn¡¯t provided with details about your opponent, but your goal is to put on a good fight. Beat it or just survive with style, keep the crowds happy for your own sakes!¡± Ranthia made a quiet disgusted noise. ¡°Problem, Trainee Ranthia?¡± The instructor asked. Oops, she hadn¡¯t been as quiet as she thought. ¡°Sorry, Sir. I¡¯m just not a fan of the colosseum or fighting for blood sport. Also, I¡¯m not sure what I will get out of this. ¡­Sir!¡± She would have never said that last part if her mind hadn¡¯t been distracted by Hexara. She bit her tongue and forced herself into the present. ¡°Oh, yes, that reminds me. Orders from Sentinel Hunting for Trainee Ranthia!¡± He produced a very familiar length of blue cloth and handed it to her. ¡°¡­He cannot be serious¡­!¡± Ranthia gasped in shocked outrage. ¡°I¡¯ll repeat only what he told me: ¡®You are to wear that. If you remove it before I tell you to, you will be severely punished and will regret it, even if you had a damn good reason. You are to try to avoid using them, but if you must you are restricted to one at a time and only as an image.¡¯ He also said you would know which to use.¡± The instructor looked more than a little confused at his message. Ranthia swore, colorfully, and tied the blindfold over her eyes. ¡­To the collective gasps and guffaws of the other trainees. She took back every nice thought she had ever had of the man. Sentinel Hunting was a monster that was going to get her killed! ¡°Gentlemen and ladies! Turn your attention to the North Gate and give it up for the future guardians of Remus, a Ranger Trainee Team! And what¡¯s this?! ¡­Seriously what is that? Aha, I am getting word that one of them has sworn an oath to never look upon their enemy in battle! What kind of show can we expect from these?!¡± The noise of the crowd seemed unchanged from background chatter. Clearly this match was not meant to be peak entertainment. ¡°And now to the South Gate! Behold a newcomer, a ferocious dinosaur found and subdued just this very morning by the experts! With teeth that can carve through almost anything and power to crush stone! Give it up for Keeeerusher, the abelisaurus!¡± ¡°Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!¡± One of the other trainees¡ªpossibly one of the mages¡ªscreamed. ¡°It¡¯s lower level than she is! We can do this!¡± That was Statia. ¡°The bitch is blind, she¡¯s dead weight! Godsdamnit she pissed off some Sentinel she was fucking and now we¡¯re all going to die!¡± He snapped in response. Ranthia made note of the voice. Whoever that was would not get off the hook. Ranthia was the highest level person in their team, by nearly 40 levels. The group¡¯s panic suggested the creature was close to her [Mage] class¡¯ level¡ªnot that even [Divine-Touched Identify] could magically work through a freaking blindfold. Still, it was weird that they seemed to believe things were so hopeless. Did the idiots really believe the Academy was wasteful enough to execute a full team of trainees? ¡°Uh, guys, is it just me or do its teeth look way too shiny? Are they metal!?¡± Another mage? Maybe guard guy? Gods, she had never realized existing through sound alone would be so hard! ¡°Enough whining, are you children or are you Rangers?! Bitey, muzzle off. Harass it but be careful, boy. Mages, form a line and bleed it! Frontliners, get in there and keep its attention!¡± They came together under the leadership of the man with the saber-tooth tiger (at least his voice was obvious). Ranthia kept her mouth shut and tried to focus on her ears. The trainees started to move. Ranthia drew her knives and felt their familiar, well-worn curves. Their not-so-subtle, reassuring weight. So, she couldn¡¯t see a thing. So what? She had her ears. She had [Combat Awareness]. And she had [The Flow of Battle]. She had everything she needed! ¡­She hoped. She moved. Even with her complete inexperience at fighting blind, it was easy to tell exactly where the abelisaurus was. Every move it made sent shockwaves through the ground. Ranthia hesitated a moment, then knelt down and cut her feet free from her sandals. This granted her another valuable sense, though she hated to waste a perfectly good pair of sandals. Cracks filled the air as stone and metal pinged off the dinosaur¡¯s thick hide. There was too much noise. The saber-tooth tiger¡¯s snarls. The curses of the other trainees. The sounds of the mages¡¯ spells. So Ranthia¡ªon the spot¡ªlearned to tune things out. It was kind of like the deep focused state she entered when she made her mental images. She allowed in what she needed. The rest splashed off her focus. Or at least that was the intent. Her effectiveness¡­ varied. Some sounds were necessary. She had to keep some level of attention on the noise of the crowd¡ªthat would be a heavy indicator of the status of her nominal allies. She had to track every sound the dinosaur made to know its mood, focus, and direction¡ªlet alone the attacks it made. The announcer, grudgingly, needed to be heard, though she would have to distill useful intel out of his drivel. The shouts of her allies, similarly, had to be filtered for the useful components, though she would pay full attention to the man that seized command. It wasn¡¯t like she could lead while fucking blind. She couldn¡¯t afford the distraction, but she still shook an angry mental fist at Sentinel Hunting¡¯s existence. Awkwardly, Ranthia moved until she arrived in the vicinity of the dinosaur. Nearly the very moment she arrived [Combat Awareness] started to metaphorically scream at her, but she had already begun to move before it even triggered. Some instinct, borne of her skills, had demanded it. [A Void Dance] let her slide clear of¡­ whatever it was that she evaded (had she mentioned that she was absolutely hating every moment of this?). Worse, her own counterattack came too slow, or she swung at the wrong angle or something¡ªher knives only met empty air. ¡°I can do this.¡± She whispered angrily to herself. ¡°[Sporebomb], everyone back!¡± Ranthia sprinted backward from the dinosaur until she thought she was far enough away. A deceptively quiet pop filled the air, followed by a noise that reminded her of a swarm of tiny insects in the jungle. A very close noise. She hurriedly retreated further away. For a moment the sounds of the dinosaur seemed subdued, then she figured it must have erupted from the cloud. The noise it made suddenly got louder once it was clear, and she could hear the massive beast moving. Based on the screaming, it seemed to be bound for the [Mages]. ¡°Bitey, redirect it!¡± Their leader cried out. Seconds later, a crack and a loud yowling screech. More screams and cursing, none of it was useful. Ranthia moved. No. She danced. Each step felt increasingly graceful and steady. Every Skill that might help was active. [Combat Awareness] more-or-less offered her a zone of awareness of attacks that might hit her, which¡ªhopefully¡ªmeant that she could risk getting into the [Mages]¡¯s line of fire. [Image Recall] was ready to feed the image of herself with her blindfold to [Scattered Reflections], if she needed it (though it¡¯d be of her in the issued tunic rather than the armor, not that it mattered for a dumb dino). [The Flow of Battle] guided her movements for her approach and somehow¡ªshe hoped¡ªthe skill helped her find where she needed to be. [A Void Dance] was ready to guide her around the abelisaurus¡¯ attacks or friendly fire (this would be a terrible time for it to turn out to suck). [Critical Strike] always helped guide her blades, no matter how disappointed she had been in it. And of course [Void Edge] and [Cross Strike] were there to make her strikes hurt.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. On skill-guided instinct, Ranthia leapt into the air. Less than a heartbeat later she felt the dinosaur¡¯s tail in [Combat Awareness]¡ªand through the wind pressure¡ªas it swept beneath her. She landed, rolled, and recovered her feet before she suddenly moved to the side. And immediately struck out with her knife in her right hand, [Void Edge] and [Cross Strike] activated a touch late, but still to useful effect. It was hard to miss the howling roar of pain, after all. Ranthia continued to move as she danced away from the leg(?) that she struck. She couldn¡¯t see to confirm, but that was what it felt like at least. The dinosaur turned and immediately her left hand lashed out. Another howling roar of pain! She really could do this! Ranthia rushed to nimbly retreat from the leg(s?), though she could easily feel the ground tremoring as the dinosaur followed. If she died, she was going to beg Xaoc to curse Hunting. She twirled to the side, guided by her skills. And shivered when the dinosaur¡¯s jaws closed where she was with a sound not wholly unrelated to thunder. That had been¡­ far, far too fucking close! The dinosaur¡¯s head entered [Combat Awareness]¡¯s notice as the foolhardy beast swept its skull toward her. She punished it for the tactical blunder; both of her knives struck its flesh and the skull beneath. By the sound of it, the beast reared back before it voiced its pain at the greatest volume yet. Which was great, though Ranthia was already trying to reposition. She had no doubt it was going to go for her again, and she needed to¡ª Yes, she screwed up. She had been far too focused on her battle with the beast. Like a rank amateur she completely ignored her allies, she sacrificed her battlefield awareness. The attack had been called, but she remained ignorant. The [Sporebomb] detonated with her inside of it. What few senses she had been forced to rely on effectively winked out. A thick cloud of something sealed almost all sound and padded the wind around her. [Combat Awareness] became worthless and had to be shut off; she was literally engulfed inside an attack. Fortunately, she still had enough sense to hold her breath. She ran, now truly blind. The dinosaur had either lashed out blindly, or it wasn¡¯t even intended as an attack and was just part of the dinosaur¡¯s own efforts to escape the spore cloud. No matter the explanation, its tail struck the ground right next to her. It wasn¡¯t a direct hit, but the blow felt like a force of nature erupted in close proximity. Ranthia never saw it coming, she just suddenly found herself knocked away and tumbled not-so-gracefully. In the aftermath, Ranthia was left dizzy between the blow and the strain of holding her breath. Was she even clear of the accursed spore attack yet?! ¡°And with that ruling, the match is over! Here come the colosseum¡¯s beast tamers to corral Keeeerusher! Give her and the Ranger Trainee Team a hand!¡± Suddenly, it seemed that she could hear again. Immediately Ranthia gasped for air. But something was wrong, even while she sat there and tried to focus on breathing. Her lungs burned and she started coughing, even with the clean air. Had she taken a breath inside that damned attack without realizing it?! ¡°Are you okay?¡± Statia¡¯s voice asked from nearby a moment later. ¡°Fine, just h-,¡± wait not that word, ¡°just get me back to the instructor please.¡± Honestly, she was lucky that she caught it. Asking Statia for ¡®help¡¯ was still grounds for expulsion in most circumstances. Though Ranthia was seized by a particularly nasty coughing fit after she forced herself to speak. ¡°Ask me for help.¡± Statia demanded. ¡°What?¡± Ranthia gasped out between coughs. ¡°Hurry, do it! Ask me to help you heal your lungs!¡± Statia insisted, her tone urgent. ¡°¡­Fine, help me,¡± more coughs, ¡°breathe?¡± Ranthia relented after several long moments. The coughs were getting worse. Warmth filled Ranthia. Statia was a healer? How in Xaoc¡¯s name did that work?! She was a level 116 [Artisan ¨C Water] and a level 73 [Mage ¨C Light]. She was by far the lowest level person that was still left among the trainees, but she certainly wasn¡¯t [Healer] tagged! Spores that had gotten into Ranthia despite her best efforts were washed away. Air, at last, entered her lungs more easily. Bruises that would have formed from her final tumble faded before they got a chance. ¡°Are you okay now?¡± Statia asked after a bit. ¡°Yeah¡­ Thank you.¡± Ranthia answered sincerely before she¡ªcarefully¡ªreturned her knives to their sheaths through the glory of muscle memory. The other woman helped her up and they moved together toward the others. Soon Ranthia¡¯s skin felt the temperature difference that suggested they were inside again. ¡°Trainee Ranthia, blindfold off!¡± The instructor called. She was only too happy to comply. The instructor then offered her the sandals that she had abandoned. She took them but it wasn¡¯t like she could put them back on. The straps were sliced clean through. The other trainees crowded around talking excitedly. Somehow what little she managed to do had really impressed them, or at least they were polite enough to make it seem that way. Ranthia, for her part, just listened quietly for a bit. There. Without warning, she delivered a savage kick. Her full stats were behind the blow, and it went directly between the ex-guard¡¯s legs. He collapsed with a pathetic noise while the other men winced in sympathy. ¡°I¡¯m not fucking any Sentinels, and I never will.¡± Ranthia spat at him. Oddly, somehow, Statia and the instructor had suddenly (and quite hurriedly) left the room and would unfortunately be unable to attest to exactly what happened. It turned out that Bitey had lost a leg to the abelisaurus with the inane¡ªalbeit fitting¡ªname. The beast healers that the colosseum kept on staff fixed him up good as new, but his partner was quiet and subdued. Instructor Artillery Mage C bought them lunch from a stall shortly after they emerged from the damned bloodsport arena. Generous servings of spicy, well-seasoned meat tossed with vegetables were set in front of each of them. Statia opted to only get a single mango instead. Ranthia quirked an eyebrow at the woman. ¡°I don¡¯t eat meat.¡± Statia whispered, with an expression that made it clear she expected judgment. ¡°That¡¯s fine, seen it before. I was just wondering why you were eating so little, at least get some vegetables to go with it.¡± The woman laughed in obvious relief. The instructor seemed to overhear and agree because a short time later he set down a bowl of roasted veggies in front of Statia. While they ate, Ranthia checked her skill gains. [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has reached level 120!] [*ding!* [Steps into the Void] has leveled from 122 to 124!] [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has leveled from 63 to 65!] Not much in the way of gains from the fight with the dinosaur. She had hoped to get a class level in [Blade Dancer] out of it, since she had relied so heavily on the class to even survive Hunting¡¯s stupid fucking test. As for the levels in her [Covenant], she could only assume they were related to her meeting with the difficultly named [Priest] and she had missed them in her rush to meet with Hexara. Godsdamnit she could feel her blush returning! The ships docked back at the island and the trainees and instructors milled out. As soon as they were on land the trainee and his saber-tooth tiger walked straight to the silver gong and struck it together. He noticed Ranthia¡¯s look and shook his head. ¡°Sorry, but I can¡¯t risk Bitey like this. Ranger life isn¡¯t for us.¡± Ranthia returned to her room and sat down on her bed. She felt restless and vaguely frustrated, a sentiment that had been worsened by her fellow trainee¡¯s departure. She felt guilty; had she fought without the stupid blindfold his stupid pet wouldn¡¯t have gotten hurt (yes, it was a hell of an assumption, she hadn¡¯t even learned what level the stupid dinosaur was). Then he¡¯d still be there. He had real potential as a Ranger, even she had been impressed with how he took control before the others broke down in terror. Grumpily, she grabbed her supplies to maintain her knives and unsheathed them. Loud, loud cursing followed. ¡°Wow, yeah, your [Void Edge] tore these apart. Ouch. Bet the colosseum¡¯s beast healers are having a bitch of a time with that runty dino of theirs!¡± Hunting laughed and passed her knives back to her. ¡°I¡¯ve had these since I was eight.¡± Ranthia complained. The knives had been devastated by her element. [Strengthen Blade] was plainly and completely outmatched. The knives had become blunt instruments, and the metal was pockmarked and just outright missing in places. She strongly suspected the blades would shatter if she tried to sharpen them. Hunting set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed sympathetically. ¡°Weapons come and go, in our line of work it¡¯s best to never get attached to ¡®em. They served you well. You will wield others. ¡­Quite a lot of others, it seems.¡± He offered, gently. ¡°I know, sorry. I¡¯m being ridiculous.¡± Ranthia grumbled irritably. ¡°Enough about that. The blindfold. You kept it on?¡± Hunting smoothly pivoted the conversation in a way that promised to piss her off even further. She couldn¡¯t even cut him anymore! ¡°Yeah¡­ But if I had taken it off, I would have been able to protect the others. One of the other trainees dropped out because I couldn¡¯t contribute at full strength. His bonded companion got hurt and he decided they couldn¡¯t risk becoming Rangers.¡± Ranthia admitted bitterly. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you?¡± Hunting prompted in a difficult-to-read tone. ¡°¡­I wouldn¡¯t have been able to learn anything? I don¡¯t know! I¡­ I thought everyone else could handle themselves. He had brought the others back into line, directed them. So yeah, I assumed it would be safe!¡± Gods and goddesses why did it sound like she was making excuses? ¡°Right, you¡¯re part of a team. You¡¯re not quite all Rangers, not yet, but you¡¯re close. Some of you more than others. There¡¯s nothing wrong with assuming your team is competent and capable. Rangers are supposed to be. Sentinels have to be. You did the right thing.¡± He reassured her. ¡°I¡­ Right. I¡¯ll keep it in mind.¡± Ranthia replied tactfully. ¡°Good. Now tell me, what was it like wearing the blindfold?¡± Hunting was fucking grinning! ¡°It was shit and whomever decided to inflict that on me deserves to suffer.¡± Ranthia snarked. ¡°Kid, you have a long way to go before you can threaten me. Now come on, seriously, I want to hear about how the entire thing felt and how you adapted.¡± He insisted, slightly more seriously. ¡°Well¡­¡± Hunting listened through her perception of the ordeal in silence. His face was unreadable. She did her best to be thorough and clearly mentioned the brief moment where she felt more connected to the dance of the battle. No matter how indescribable it felt and how hard it was to explain. ¡°Right. You¡¯ll keep wearing the blindfold when you appear in the colosseum. Might have your instructors sometimes stick it on you during some other outings too. We¡¯ll see what comes of it.¡± Hunting mused while he stroked his signature beard. Ranthia glared at him, but he pretended not to notice. ¡°I didn¡¯t even get any real levels out of it.¡± Ranthia pointed out to try to convince him to change his mind. ¡°Of course you didn¡¯t. It was your first time, and you screwed up big time by ignoring things you knew you shouldn¡¯t have. You only succeeded in pissing off the beast and odds are your team did most of the damage. Plus, it was at a lower level than you are. Your first time isn¡¯t going to reward you with major skill or level increases; the first time only taught you lessons, kid. Internalize ¡®em and improve, and the levels will follow as you start to actually do something more than sulk and play at being the worst combat support on the team.¡± Hunting replied with open amusement. ¡°Just so you know, I¡¯ll never forgive you if you get me killed.¡± Ranthia grumbled. ¡°Kid, you¡¯ve been my excuse for a break. I wouldn¡¯t do this if I didn¡¯t think you could handle it and improve from it. You have a nasty habit of overfocusing from your years in a small team or as an individual. This will break that habit and help you with your overreliance on your eyes. I¡¯ve been blinded in battle before¡ªmore than once¡ªand I only survived because I had capabilities that I¡¯m trying to instill in you. Stick with it. Once you get used to this, you¡¯ll be amazed at how much more of our world you actually notice.¡± Hunting explained. The words were a powerful lecture, but he was grinning like he was setting up for some great joke. Ranthia really had no idea what to think or how to respond, so she stayed silent. ¡°Anyway, I won¡¯t be seeing you for a while. Got a¡­ hell of a mission lined up, so I¡¯m heading back to the front tomorrow. I¡¯m going to arrange for some other training for you in my slot while I¡¯m gone, so just do what you like during the slot until they start showing up. Might even be able to get you a special trainer that can help you more than I can right now.¡± He continued. Ranthia felt crestfallen, and it clearly showed on her face. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t fret kid. I¡¯ll be fine! Might not see you for a while, but I promise that even if I¡¯m not done before then, I will make it to the Ranger Convocation and see you graduate and become a true Ranger. No matter what.¡± They stood and clasped arms, like friends that were parting for a time. Ranthia was unable to remember what she said. But she remembered that he laughed. And then he was off. Book 1 - Chapter 36 - Academy IV They had outings about once a week, on average. Sometimes the trainees would have to fight goblin nests¡ªnever war goblins¡ªwith varyingly large numbers of weaker goblins. Sometimes they faced other smaller scale threats. More often they were dropped individually or in teams of eight into the wilderness and had to survive for a few days or make their way to some destination; Ranthia almost always got stuck wearing a blindfold on such wilderness survival outings. And every now and then they were sent in random teams into the colosseum, though that abelisaurus never had to face Ranthia again (and yes, that was exactly how she thought about it; she wanted revenge), only fodder meant for them to kill. Ranthia¡¯s 20th birthday came and went, barely noticed. Then the summer solstice. And on the one-year anniversary of the academy starting, the trainees found themselves gathered in the courtyard instead of attending to their morning exercises. ¡°You are all halfway through your time at this Academy! Congratulations! New lesson plans have been prepared for everyone. Come get ¡®em from the instructor or Ranger Team 1 member that took your team on its last outing!¡± A Sentinel that Ranthia didn¡¯t know the name of called out, before he left with zero fanfare. Ranthia had to quietly laugh at herself when she had the disgruntled thought that he hadn¡¯t even introduced himself¡ªas if it would have mattered. Ranthia had to blink at her new schedule once she received it. 4th Gong: Physical Exercise 5th Gong: Breakfast 6th Gong: The Historical Foundations of Imperial Law 8th Gong: Visualization Exercises 9th Gong: Hand-to-Hand Training 10th Gong: Ranged Combat Training 11th Gong: Unit 2 Sparring 12th Gong: Lunch 13th Gong: Geography & Cartography 14th Gong: Speedster Training 15th Gong: Advanced Monster Slaying 17th Gong: Physical Exercise 18th Gong: Dinner 19th Gong: Field Leadership Training 20th Gong: Countering Sapient Foes 21st Gong: Dance Rehearsal (alternates daily with Woodworking) What on Pallos? She wasn¡¯t even sure which part of it was the strangest! Woodworking (why?!) or the¡­ something about dancing that she couldn¡¯t even understand the second part of. And oh sweet Xaoc, she was pretty sure whatever that law-and-other-words class was going to be the worst thing she had ever experienced. Ranthia, Statia, and one of the A-Ranked Adventurers¡ªnaturally the one that Ranthia barely knew (she was pretty sure he hadn¡¯t been in Ariminum for very long)¡ªwere the only ones in the horrific-sounding law course. The class took place in a new building that had popped up away from the villa overnight. A somewhat barebones building, though three small desks and a comfortable-looking chair had been brought in. And then one of the head honchos of Ranger Command walked in, a man Ranthia hadn¡¯t seen since their induction ceremony a year ago. The trio scrambled to rise and salute. But the man wordlessly waved them back to their seats, closed the door and activated an inscription that had been carved across every wall in the room, even the ceiling. ¡°You three have been selected by recommendations from the Sentinels, collectively, which were augmented by at least five instructors each. Surprised we got even one candidate, let alone three. First, let me say that everything I will cover in this class is top secret. On direct orders from the emperor, if any of you speak of anything you learn in this class to any other person, you will be killed by a Sentinel.¡± The man announced in a disturbingly conversational tone of voice. He didn¡¯t even give any of them the opportunity to opt out. ¡°I will be teaching this course personally. In the event I am not here, the three of you will sit quietly in this room until the 8th Gong. We can¡¯t have anything thinking anything is unusual about this course. If anyone asks, just groan and be evasive. Don¡¯t try to be creative, any explanation you might offer has a risk of dropping hints. ¡°We will begin this unit by discussing our closest neighboring nation. The dwarves of Khazad.¡± And that was how Ranthia began International Studies. Each day¡ªwhen the commander actually showed, which could be inconsistent¡ªthey discussed the other nations that Remus knew of and the people that lived there. There were never other humans, oddly. In fact, most of the other nations seemed to be comprised of a single species almost exclusively. The level of detail that was provided varied. Khazad was seemingly well known. The information about The Tympestshard Council¡ªthe oddly-named nation of elves¡ªwas far more speculative. The Dullahan Dynasties were either idyllic or brutally oppressed in favor of those in power, depending on which account they studied. The harpies were covered in a single day and all the information seemed to suggest they were engaged in some sort of internal strife and best avoided. The nation of the devils was equally enigmatic, as they were noted isolationists. And there were even more out there, it seemed; more than even Ranthia had expected. Visualization Exercises had only Ranthia and Statia in it. A class of two that was, once again, held in the new building. It was taught by a man neither recognized that refused to give a name or allow them to refer to him by anything¡ªnot even Sir. Which certainly wasn¡¯t constantly awkward or confusing. He would briefly show them an object, then ask them to write a detailed description of it. Or he might hold a scroll up at an angle and ask them to write their best efforts to recreate what was drawn or written upon it. Or he could enter the room wearing an elaborate outfit, then disappear as soon as he reached his chair, while his disembodied voice asked them to write down every detail about his outfit. After the first two days, they would get no warning on what to pay attention to. Often something elaborate was worn or carried that was a mere red herring and they would be asked to describe something else entirely, such as the exact angle his chair had been in before he sat down. The class frustrated Ranthia and gave her headaches almost as awful as those she developed when she tried to control multiple images independently while channeling, but she¡ªquite grudgingly¡ªhad to admit that she gained a lot from the class. Her eye for detail and her ability to recall improved steadily. She still hated the course though. Hand-to-Hand Training was, mercifully, exactly what Ranthia expected and a wonderful return to normalcy. She wasn¡¯t sure if she could have tolerated nonstop weirdness. ¡°Grapples, grabs, throws, punches, kicks, tackles. And counters to these. All of this and more will be drilled into you. We¡¯ve gone through some basics already, but you trainees have been selected to learn more. Your skills all favor weaponry, but sometimes we all get caught off-guard or end up disarmed. My responsibility is to ensure you don¡¯t die when that happens!¡± A balding, but affable, instructor that Ranthia had rarely interacted with announced. Twenty-two of them were in that course, which was held outdoors. Each day followed the same format: A quarter gong or so worth of lecture, followed by practicals. It was fun and worth every bruise. Ranged Combat Training followed, for the exact same group of students¡ªminus two¡ªin the exact same place. Just a different instructor showed up and took over almost the instant Hand-to-Hand Training concluded. ¡°Bows, throwing knives, darts, slings, and even just a rock you find and throw. All of this and more will be drilled into you. We¡¯ve gone through some basics already, but you trainees have been selected to learn more. Your skills all favor melee weaponry, but sometimes we all get caught in situations where you cannot reach your opponent. My responsibility is to ensure that you don¡¯t die when that happens!¡± The short instructor announced. Ranthia found out that the two that left were getting Melee Combat Training instead, from the female instructor. Ranthia strongly suspected that the three instructors were tightly coordinating their lectures, because the format was the same in each course and the introductions were uncannily similar. They even sometimes got to mingle, as they practiced ranged weapons against the ranged specialists in Melee Combat Training or played the role of melee combat specialists against them. Unit 2 Sparring was both Ranthia¡¯s favorite and least favorite of her new courses. The twelve trainees over level 200 were the only ones in the course. They were paired off to spar against each other or an instructor or member of Ranger Team 1. Or they formed randomized groups of eight that had to face a random number of instructors or members of Ranger Team 1. That all was great and gave Ranthia quite a bit out of the class. There was just one problem. ¡°Today¡¯s roll of the die says Trainee Ranthia has to wear her blindfold today!¡± She swore the damned piece of carved wood had to be weighted to favor the stupid blindfold. Geography & Cartography was, in theory, the same course as it had been during the first year. Except for the second year it had only the three from International Studies in it, and they were in the new building once again. There they studied international maps, terrain, and landmarks. It should have been interesting, but frankly the information they had was so rough and piecemeal that Ranthia had to question the merits of the course. One of the maps they studied was created ¡°based upon a poem about the Tympestshard Council¡± by an unidentified [Artisan] which just¡­ gods it was so stupid that it pissed Ranthia off for days every time it crossed her mind! It was better than nothing, but only by the tiniest amount. Speedster Training had only a few trainees in it, scattered across the levels. The course had been run during the first year already, but there were a handful of trainees that had either recently gained a speedster class or had gained a speed stat high enough to require the basics. Thus the course was just a rerun for those that didn¡¯t qualify during the first year. The lessons were all about how to handle movement, navigation, and combat at high speeds. They also covered how to recognize more subtle signs of Skill use, since speedsters were expected to deal with [Mages]. Advanced Monster Slaying was, once again, the same three trainees from International Studies. In many ways it was a direct continuation of the normal class Ranthia had enjoyed so much last year. Except now there were additional monsters unveiled, many with downright horrifying levels¡ªincluding beasts that were often seen over level 800¡ªand they were candid about which nations various beasts were typically found within. Wyverns, hydras, and dinosaurs that Ranthia had never even heard of were discussed, often with first-hand accounts written by others. Even in dwarven lands, monsters and beasts were often well over level 200. ¡­And apparently hellhounds came from there. It was nice to have her theory from the first year confirmed, but what the heck had a pack been doing in Remus?Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The course often left Ranthia with a sense of discomfort or with more questions than she had answers to. All too often the answer to how to deal with these monsters was¡­ don¡¯t. The Rangers tended to use a (somewhat self-explanatory and overly obvious, in Ranthia¡¯s mind) framework for dealing with beasts: Placate, kill, drive off, and tolerate¡ªwith a silent addition of call a Sentinel. Yet it was doubtful that even Hunting could have handled many of the creatures they studied. Ranthia had zero doubts that the man could punch up above his level, but what could anyone do if they were hundreds of levels below their opponent? Placate or tolerate were practically the only viable options, and if they were impossible¡­ Well, Adventurers had their own option that the Rangers clearly preferred to ignore: run. Field Leadership Training and Countering Sapient Foes were still the exact same classes, just continuing where they left off. It was the same group as last year too, minus the few that had abandoned the Academy since the courses began. Ranthia had begun to feel vaguely comfortable with the notion of taking on a leadership role in a team, for a single engagement. And by ¡®vaguely comfortable¡¯ she meant that she figured she could if there was no other possible option. She had less than no interest in dealing with leadership responsibilities, and she still had real concerns about the egos at play. Kallisto continued to guide her through tactics and counter-tactics when dealing with enemies of potentially comparable intelligence to her own. She had always assumed that the course was about dealing with bandits and other rogue classers, but International Studies had given it a bit of a darker tone in her mind. She really didn¡¯t like the possibility. They were all created by the five great gods¡ªXaoc had a hand in the origin of every being on Pallos. Surely there weren¡¯t any other cultured people living in Pallos that humanity was wholly unable to co-exist with. ¡°Ah, there you are darling! Come on, come on! I had been at my wit¡¯s end after Vop stormed out on me, when lo, I get offered a¡­ you! Well, beggars cannot be choosers, as they say. C¡¯mon, get in line sweetie!¡± An overly animated, extremely old man emoted at her when she opened the door. Once again, she was in the new building. Except this time, it housed an old man that seemed to be pathologically incapable of holding still or making subdued motions. Him, 15 [Artisans] that were clearly dancers of some form, and three [Bards] were all crammed into the small building. How they weren¡¯t positively melting from so many people in such tight proximity, Ranthia couldn¡¯t explain. Ranthia was put into line with the dancers, and then they ran them through a dance number, one-by-one. Ranthia was (apparently?) expected to perform last. The [Bards] were playing a beautiful piece of upbeat music¡ªRanthia just might have started liking [Bards] at that rate¡ªrepeated while each dancer performed their dance. Ranthia was reasonably confident that she had picked up the number pretty well from watching the others perform¡ªshe watched their legs and feet primarily this time!¡ªand she was all smiles by the time she finished her own rendition. It had felt great, it was fun, and her joy died a horrific death when she finished and the old man reacted. ¡°What was that?! No no no no no no NO! Wrong wrong, oh so wrong! Where is your art? Your passion?! Come darling, don¡¯t act like this is some amateur thing! Oh I¡­ Well, we can fix you. ¡­Hopefully! There is still time, right everyone?¡± The man never stopped moving while he spoke. A few of the other dancers hesitantly nodded, two were outright glaring. How was she that bad?! The training was redoubled, and Ranthia felt more lost than ever. This had to have been what Hunting set up for her, but what in Xaoc¡¯s eternal chaos was any of this about?! Sure, she was still learning, but she was a [Blade Dancer] now; her class skills wanted to dance. So what was the problem?! Then, partway through the night, Ranthia was offered a new General Skill. [The Art of Dance]: Dancing has become a passion of yours, but it was only recently acquired. Your body has yet to embrace proper rhythm. Take this skill and get better, before you ruin the reputation of Fausteo¡¯s Musical Theater. Dancing is more than a set of movements; it is a form of art! Increased sense of rhythm and improved dancing prowess per level. -512 Mana Regen Rate while dancing. Ranthia was vaguely resentful that the System had somehow become the only thing that gave her any answers to her questions, but she took the skill. She had a slot open after all. Hunting had advised/forced her to keep it open, so she chose to assume it was for that moment. Especially since the man wasn¡¯t going to be around to correct her for who knew how long. The next night when she showed up to Dance Rehearsal, there was¡ªoddly enough¡ªa crowd gathered outside the building. Most of the instructors and a few members of Ranger Team 1 were holding a cookout right in front of the only entrance to the building while they loudly conversed. They waved her through. ¡°Trainee Ranthia, don¡¯t mind us. We¡¯re just taking a chance to bond and relax while we can. Go on in.¡± The female instructor called out. Weird. Ranthia didn¡¯t miss it when the inscriptions lit up as soon as she was inside, activated by an unseen force¡ªmuch like the logs during the hell months. Inside the building was a short, hairy man. ¡­Woman? S/he had a massive beard, so Ranthia had no idea what to think. There were no tattoos, so the individual wasn¡¯t from Laconia¡ªprobably¡ªbut that didn¡¯t really answer anything. ¡°Ach, yer here finally! Been lookin¡¯ forward ta meetin¡¯ ye! Still just cannot believe you poor lasses dun get a whisker on ye. So unattractive! How do ye ever land a husband?¡± ¡°Er, actually I prefer women.¡± Ranthia replied automatically while her mind tried to catch up. Fortunately, for a change of pace, it didn¡¯t take long. ¡°Oh Xaoc, you¡¯re a dwarf!¡± ¡°Hah! That I am lassie. Rigira Granu of the 88th generation, and I am sorry to say I am quite ¡®appily married so please do not fall in love with me!¡± She extended her arm for a handshake. Ranthia reciprocated the handshake and fought down her momentary annoyance at the woman¡¯s words. Which got so much easier once she paid attention to what [Divine-Touched Identify] was showing her. [Mage ¨C Mirage] level 619, [Mage ¨C Wood] level 488, [Artisan ¨C Wood] level 174. That was damned intimidating. Not even the Sentinels had been that high! Her hair¡ªand beard¡ªwere dark brown with dark green dye striping through both, though there was a hint of grey too. She was considerably shorter than Ranthia was, with a burly, stocky build. ¡°Um, what can I do for you, ma¡¯am?¡± Ranthia asked, bewildered. ¡°Hah! Well, ye can start by being half te lass that sexy laddie with the beard of such¡¯a remarkable shade of blue claimed. I took a nasty near-death experience out fightin¡¯ them shimagu, n¡¯ my pal Bluebeard said I would be perfect fer trainin¡¯ ¡®is ¡®prentice! A relaxin¡¯ trip to this Remus place to rest my mind n¡¯ train te next generation? Sign me up!¡± ¡°Okay, training¡­ What sort of training will we be doing?¡± Ranthia picked one of the easier to parse bits from the woman¡¯s thick accent. ¡°I was told ye got a skill that lets ye sense attacks before they hit ya? Tell me what yer system says ¡®bout it.¡± She insisted, grin still plastered on her face. Ranthia hesitated, but finally decided that since¡ªif she understood the woman¡¯s horrific accent correctly¡ªSentinel Hunting had specifically asked the woman to come train her; she really needed to play it as straight with her as she would have with him. He believed that this dwarf had something she could teach Ranthia, possibly even better than he himself could have. ¡­And with a level like that, Ranthia was inclined to believe it. ¡°[Combat Awareness]: Instantly become aware of any attack or movement with hostile intent that comes within a fixed range of your body. Provides awareness of where the attack or action is coming from, where and what it will affect, and approximates probable damage. Increased range, accuracy of estimations, and increased probability to circumvent masking skills with level.¡± Ranthia read the description off of her System interface, though she left out the mana regeneration cost. ¡°Oh aye, tis a great skill. ¡®Til the moment it gets ye dead.¡± The dwarf nodded and stroked her beard. ¡°Pardon?¡± Ranthia asked, mildly offended. ¡°Right there in te skill, like ye said. Masked attacks. Attacks that have been hidden by another skill. Sure, ye might, might, be able to see ¡®em from somethin¡¯ lower level than ye. But somethin¡¯ stronger than ye? Ye get all comfortable-like with yer skill and ye got a bad case of the dead ¡®fore ye knew what gotcha.¡± Ranthia paused. That¡­ was actually a frustratingly valid point. She had already half seen it for herself already, when she fought the abelisaurus blindfolded. There were times when by the time [Combat Awareness] ¡®saw¡¯ an attack it was far too late to react¡­ at least at her level. ¡°Okay, I suppose it would be good to train myself to not rely on it exclusively. What sort of training do you have in mind?¡± Ranthia reluctantly agreed. ¡°Can ye turn it off?¡± The dwarf requested. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± ¡°Good! Ah¡¯ll make this a solid a learnin¡¯ experience for ye lass. Turn it off n¡¯ stand over near that wall.¡± Ranthia walked over and stood where she was directed. And mere moments later the air was full of large wooden lances that launched in her direction. Ranthia shrieked and froze up¡­ and then one passed right through her. Fucking Mirages! ¡°Ach, yer supposed te dodge ¡®em lass or this will not be much of a lesson!¡± Rigira yelled, annoyed. ¡°Sorry ma¡¯am, just¡­ wasn¡¯t expecting th¡ª¡± Ranthia cut herself off as another volley came. This time she started dodging. They were just illusions¡ªprobably¡ªbut her other senses screamed. Her eyes saw pointy death. Her ears heard the volleys whistle through the air. Even her skin felt the breeze of the illusory lances passing by. Rigira was a hell of a skilled Mirage [Mage]. They were not all Mirages, and the dwarf made herself scarce while one of the instructors got a [Healer] to Ranthia. That day in Unit 2 Sparring, Ranthia found herself facing off against Kaesios. Blindfolded, of godsdamned course. Her new courseload was helping her out substantially, even¡ªbizarrely¡ªher Dance Rehearsal course. The alternation between it and the training with the dwarf lady¡ªwhose name Ranthia was still desperately trying to absorb¡ªmanaged to keep either from becoming routine. Ranthia was learning about herself and how she could move, which was about all the two had in common. She just wasn¡¯t sure if she liked either course. There was so much physical and verbal abuse, she wasn¡¯t sure how she had ever allowed herself to have a single whit of pride in what her abilities had been. Not that any of it helped much against Kaesios. The man was an onslaught that never tired or quit. Ranthia dodged, weaved, and danced around, but she was utterly unable to close in with the man. He was slower than she was and she was practically certain she had higher dexterity than he did, but his area of battlefield control was just far too wide for her to get inside his guard to stab him with one of her generic, cheap knives. Gods she missed her beloved companion knives. These pieces of scrap barely counted as knives, in Ranthia¡¯s mind. Their balance was poor, and their edge was a joke. [Healers] were present for everything Unit 2 Sparring did, so the course was full contact, aside from intentionally going for the head. ¡­Minus a few Skills, which were strictly barred from use¡ªsuch as Ranthia¡¯s [Void Edge]. At least Kaesios couldn¡¯t use his favored overhead attacks with the rules, not that it seemed to help Ranthia much. She was, of course, still restricted by Hunting¡¯s orders. She could use one image¡ªno shifting¡ªbut she had gotten to be more than a bit stubborn about actually using it. It was idiotic and she knew it was just because she was fishing for the Sentinel¡¯s approval, but she continued to try to avoid using it. It was damned clear she wouldn¡¯t beat Kaesios without it though. His Mirage slashes were hard to predict. Most were illusions, but there were two mostly real blades mixed in there¡ªunless he had improved the Skill, in which case she was double-doomed¡ªplus the real sword. And she didn¡¯t trust that she had correctly judged the true blade¡¯s position, not against a Mirage user. Once she finally forced herself to make the decision to use the image, she was left trying to figure out how and when while she danced around Kaesios to buy herself more time. Her first instinct was to throw it behind or to the side of him, surprise him, then hopefully get past his guard. But no, that was a terrible idea. It was too desperate and too unlikely to work, especially since he¡¯d seen her use them exactly in that way. She fell deeper into [The Flow of Battle] and freed her mind to dwell on the problem. It was a trick she had learned from her attempts to survive Rigira¡¯s illusory barrages. For a short period of time, she could trust herself a bit more to her Skills while she freed her mind for other tasks. The flaw was that it made her movements a bit more predictable, though even that steadily improved as she leveled. And then Ranthia was struck with inspiration. [Persistent Imagery] had gotten pretty high level¡­ It was a gamble, but it was one that she was curious about whether it¡¯d work. Curiosity always made it far easier to accept the risk. Kaesios went for a wide strike across her side (seriously was he trying to bisect her?!). Ranthia lightly hopped backwards and activated [Scattered Reflections] for the first time in¡­ a while. A mirror image of her appeared, knives crossed roughly where his blade was coming in. His thin, long sword caught, for a single moment. But in that moment, Ranthia was already lunging forward. Two of the illusory blades she passed through were mere illusions. The third was not. Blood bloomed as Kaesios¡¯ true sword sank deep into her shoulder. Her image had only caught one of his Mirror mostly-real blades! ¡°Match, Kaesios!¡± One of the instructors called, even as a cursing [Healer] rushed over to Ranthia. Ranthia pulled off her blindfold with a curse, using her good arm. ¡°What did we learn?¡± Kaesios asked smugly. Ranthia wanted to respond with obscenities, but the instructors were watching. And the [Healer] was already working his wondrous abilities to stitch her flesh and bone back together, which brought enough relief it undercut her ire a bit. ¡°Shoulder guards have value.¡± She replied moodily. ¡°Fuck, though, I¡¯d almost forgotten your tricks. Been a long time since I¡¯ve seen ¡®em. Thought they broke from a butterfly¡¯s fart, but it stopped my Mirror blade cold¡­ briefly.¡± He offered. He wasn¡¯t wrong, the mirror blade had cleaved through her image shortly after his true sword attempted to disarm her. ¡°Yeah, you had me backed into a corner. And if I¡¯m honest with myself, that gambit probably only worked because this was a sparring match. If you were really trying to kill me, even your Mirror sword would have likely had enough force to break it easily.¡± Ranthia muttered. ¡°Eh, would have still fouled my swing more than a bit. It¡¯s a sound strategy if you can improve it more.¡± He replied, clearly trying to put her in a better mood. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I can¡¯t even beat someone so far past his prime.¡± She sassily muttered. He cuffed her so hard that [Combat Awareness] tried to make her dodge. She took it though; it was only sporting. Or so she thought at the time. The [Healer] muttered dark threats over the wasted mana and effort to heal yet another injury. They were well into Winter and the trainees were starting to look forward to the Academy¡¯s inevitable conclusion. It still felt far away to Ranthia though, half a year felt like an eternity while she struggled with her course load. Dance Rehearsal had been especially exacting and demanding of late too. ¡°Now don¡¯t forget next week we will be doing a full dress rehearsal every day at the theater!¡± The energetic old man, Fausteo (she could double check off [The Art of Dance], which made her kind of wish she had a Skill with every important name in its description), called out after Dance Rehearsal finished. ¡°¡­Wait, what?¡± Ranthia asked. Even with her vitality the dancing was so demanding¡ªboth of body and of mind¡ªthat she was always left sweaty by the time they were done. ¡°Oh, right. I forget someone doesn¡¯t get to attend our meetings because we have to come out here just for rehearsal with her! Yes, yes, you¡¯ll be coming too! Already cleared it with your bosses, got a cot ready for you with the other women! We have only a bit more than a week before the big show during the Winter Solstice! Tickets are sold! Seats are filled! Well, aside from the ticket each of you get.¡± So many gesticulations. ¡°Wait, WHAT?!¡± Book 1 - Chapter 37 - The Winter Solstice Fausteo and his dancers left. Ranthia was left with so many questions, not enough answers, and vague information that she was expected by breakfast the next day. Supposedly things had been arranged. Ranthia still slept poorly, stressed out over the non-specificity of everything. It was clear that Hunting had gotten her involved in something else no one had bothered to tell her about! The man was an absolute menace. She couldn¡¯t even appreciate the chaos involved! The next morning, Ranthia woke up as normal. Since there were no messages, instructions, or other forms of guidance awaiting her, she joined the other trainees as they assembled for morning exercises. Only to be immediately approached by one of the Sentinels she hadn¡¯t seen since her sailing class. The one with the water name. Sentinel Sea? No¡­ Sentinel Nostrum? No, it was the big one. Ranthia had to side-eye her own mind when it proffered Sentinel Pond after that. Oh gods, he was a short distance away smiling and waving at her. She needed to do something! She saluted, which seemed safe enough. She was so not at her best that morning, it seemed. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Sentinel Ocean¡ªcertainly not pond¡ªannounced once she saluted. He then beckoned her to follow and took off at a run for the island¡¯s docks. Ranthia was forced to follow at a desperate run in an effort to even keep up. Her speed had improved considerably¡ªand [Steps into the Void] helped with the sandy terrain¡ªbut the man just had hundreds of levels on her. Once again, she was reminded of her folly when she claimed that A-Ranked Adventurers were equal to the Sentinels. She had been a fool back then, a woman who had no idea just how large Pallos truly was. All too quickly she found herself on his personal ship and they seemed to spear across the water, bound for Ariminum at speeds she had never known were possible. It was a bit of a struggle even with her sea legs¡ªingrained through the prior year¡ªto keep a grip on her nausea and not collapse gracelessly onto the deck. ¡°Master Fausteo, it¡¯s been far too long! I must say I¡¯m looking forward to your Winter Solstice show, I expect it to be the best yet with one of our promising Ranger trainees in it.¡± Ocean called out in greeting once he reached the man. Ranthia was several steps behind him. She still felt dizzy from the journey and was winded and sweaty from her efforts to run after the sailing Sentinel once they were back on land. She needed a moment. Or 32. ¡°Hmph, her growth has been adequate, but this week will tell if she can keep up with her peers! But yes yes, I am glad to have your patronage! Now off with you, with respect! We must get her in costume!¡± The old man was more animated than ever. ¡°Oh, and before I forget!¡± Ocean unslung a large, wooden box that was strapped to his back. Then tossed it to Ranthia, who caught it with a grunt. Dang thing was heavier than it looked. ¡°These are your assignments from your instructors for the week, all of them aside from Master Fausteo. Don¡¯t slack off!¡± Ocean offered her a handshake. Which was more than a bit awkward while she was wrestling with the giant box, but Ranthia managed to free a hand without dropping her burden. Ocean pressed a small key¡ªthe key to the wooden box, which made it a fancy wooden box¡ªinto her hand while they shook. Then he was off, and she was left to the theater master¡¯s mercy. Ranthia was promptly handed over to two tailors and a seamstress that immediately stripped her and proceeded to paw at, poke, and measure every single part of Ranthia with strips of cloth. By the time they were done and gave her back her clothes, Ranthia felt incredibly violated. Yes, they were consummate professionals and never touched or let their gazes linger anywhere inappropriate, but she was wildly unused to being manhandled so summarily. It made her feel more like a thing than a person. ¡°No problem, she¡¯s close to the measurements you guessed, boss! We¡¯ll have it ready by lunch!¡± One of the tailors called out while he shoved Ranthia out of their little workspace. Ranthia was distracted by dark thoughts about whether any of that had even been necessary, surely skills could have handled much of that without treating her like that! ¡°Good good good! You, be back by lunchtime! Eat light before! One of the girls will show you your cot, leave your¡­ crate there. Then off with you, we have much much to do!¡± The man seemed mortally offended by the functional wooden box. ¡­Wait, more importantly¡ªhad she obtained actual free time?! And, of course, Hexara wasn¡¯t at work that morning or at home. Ranthia decided to leave the ticket to the show at the salon for her. Ranthia was torn between being absolutely crushed that she couldn¡¯t spend her bit of precious free time with the woman she¡ªokay, fine, the woman that she loved, damnit¡ªbut she was also a tiny bit grateful. Honestly, she had no idea how to face Hexara after¡­ well, dropping an ¡°I love you¡± and immediately running away like some sort of freak. She¡¯d only ever said those words to Xaoc before! Her blush returned while she waited in line at her favorite rabbit stew street stall. Belly fulfilled, Ranthia decided to sacrifice her free time to sate her own curiosity. Ranthia was perched upon her cot in the back room of the theater while she opened up the wooden box of scrolls and began her coursework. The scrolls from Hand-to-Hand Training, Ranged Combat Training, and Speedster training seemed to all be related to combat theory for their disciplines. Geography & Cartography was a single scroll, which briefly listed some descriptions of areas and expected her to write scrolls detailing how she would return to Ariminum from the described locale¡ªa bizarre exercise that was unlikely to ever be practically necessary. The others were more interesting. International Studies provided scrolls encased in scripted wax that supposedly would only cleanly break for her¡ªor rather the inscribed key Ocean had slipped her¡ªthe scripts would supposedly destroy the contents if the wax was broken without the key touching it. She was to read each scroll detailing the limited information Remus had collected about the elves, then feed a little mana into the inscription around the scroll¡¯s border that would cleanly reduce the scroll to a puff of ash. Nothing for her to write for that course. Her Visual Exercises scroll was to be slowly unrolled. Each section of it was clearly demarcated and had its own rules. In essence, she was to unroll to the next boundary and the instant she hit it she was supposed to close the scroll and rewrite the letters she read or the symbols she saw. It was all on the honor system, but it was fun. The style of the writing varied dramatically too, which added a bit of challenge. Advanced Monster Slaying had dropped all names of creatures and became a series of hypotheticals about described monsters that could have been real or imagined. The hypotheticals covered things like how she would react to an opponent that regenerated damage rapidly, that was many times her size, and had multiple limbs that could deliver a crushing and piercing attack. How would her responses change if it had an aura that burned her if she got near it. Things like that. More scrolls for her to write. Field Leadership Training¡¯s scrolls turned out to be some sort of procedure guide that went on for nine incredibly dry scrolls. Ranthia decided to read those scrolls before bed. Countering Sapient Foes was much more interesting and fun. Kallisto had written down some of his personal experiences as a Ranger when he opposed human enemies. Ranthia had never considered reading fun before those scrolls, but Kallisto was an impressive storyteller. Rigira¡¯s scroll was attached to a small case filled with eight surprisingly heavy balls. The scroll itself had only a few words: Saw a juggler. Thought it was neat. Expect you to master juggling all of them at once. ¡­Ranthia had no idea how in Xaoc¡¯s name she was going to find the time to master an entirely new skill in a mere week¡ªespecially one that already had her busy with the full dance rehearsals and all of her other scroll work! Ranthia held the blob of blue and silver fabric that had been thrust into her hands with a blank look on her face. ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± The Seamstress asked. Thankfully the two tailors were not present this time. ¡°I¡­ have no idea how in Xaoc¡¯s name I¡¯m supposed to put something like this on?¡± Ranthia confessed. The woman rolled her eyes and muttered something about performers. With the woman¡¯s help, Ranthia was soon dressed. She still had no idea how in the names of the four glorious members of the five great gods the thing went on though¡ªit was fiendishly complicated. But it was done, and she found herself in front of a conjured mirror while she studied the effect. The outfit was silver with intricately dyed swirls of blue (the designs were so complex and subtle that Ranthia couldn¡¯t even speculate at how they could have been done, aside from just ¡®skills¡¯). Then there were, carefully woven in, small bits of arcanite of various¡ªalbeit tiny¡ªsizes scattered about the outfit in fractal patterns that evoked ice. The outfit somehow clung tightly to every curve of her body. It covered her from her wrists to her neck and¡ªmost bizarrely¡ªalso covered her entire feet with built-in leather at the bottom. It was like she was wearing the softest, most flexible sandals she had ever experienced, except they were connected to the garment itself. From the back there were two puffy lengths comprised of light purple threads that formed a fine netting, each connected to silver rings that she wore on her middle fingers. ¡°Now what are you waiting for?¡± The seamstress demanded, clearly annoyed. ¡°What?¡± Ranthia asked distractedly. ¡°Is this really somehow your first time? Of all the¡­ Look, you can use inscriptions I hope? Feed some mana into the costume the same way.¡± The seamstress ordered impatiently. Ranthia obeyed and the outfit seemed to come alive. Subtle threads in the costume that had been dark suddenly became mirror-like and reflective. Light seemed to scatter and reflect around her off a subtle silvery sparkling shimmer that formed in the air near her body. ¡°Excellent! Looks like it works well. What¡¯s your second class¡¯ element?¡± ¡°Void.¡± ¡°¡­Yeah, please don¡¯t try feeding that in, I don¡¯t think the weave would survive. Seriously, please do not, not even for a moment.¡± The woman blanched while she spoke. Ranthia promised she wouldn¡¯t and admired herself in the mirror a little longer. The costume really was pretty, almost like something from another world. And then the door crashed open. ¡°Why is she just standing there?! Come come come come coooome! They wait! The dancers! The bards! Not my muse though, of course not, that will be the final practice only! We must be perfect by then! So come, time wastes and you are to blame! Come!¡± Her Dance Rehearsal course had alternated between two different dance numbers; each one lasted through the full two gongs. Ranthia had always assumed that there were just two variations to give them more training. Then, when she found out it was real practice for an actual planned performance, she assumed the dances were two options they were trying to choose between. No, it turned out they were two halves to a gods forsaken four-gong length performance. At least Ranthia finally knew why several of the other fifteen dancers that were involved in the performance had mentioned that they needed to dump all of their free stats into vitality. Even Ranthia had, initially, been a bit worn out after just two gongs worth of dancing until she got used to it. Four just felt absurd! Ranthia, the ten men, and the other five women clearly had their work cut out for them. With the full stage to dance upon, their positions changed quite a bit too. The dancers were grouped into clusters of eight throughout most of the performance, aside from a few commingled components. There had always been parts of the dance where they paired up to dance in unison, and Ranthia was relieved that she still had the same partner for those: a woman that was several years her senior though remarkably short, barely much taller than Rigira. Since they were doing full dress rehearsals, Ranthia got to experience what her dance partner¡¯s Ice element did with the costume. It was pretty, but Ranthia preferred her own Mirror. They were to keep their mana feeds to their costumes off except during specific parts of the dance, which the music cued. There were both brief flares of synchronized magic and continual displays for entire sections of the dance. The effects were stunning, to Ranthia¡¯s untrained eye. Speaking of music, Ranthia was floored to learn that the three [Bards] they used in the prior dance rehearsals were just the three section leads. Each section sat sixteen musicians, so there were more [Bards] with instruments than there were dancers! Between the sections there was a dizzying array of musical instruments, most of which Ranthia had no name for. She enjoyed listening to music just fine¡ªso long as the song wasn¡¯t offensive enough to drive her towards violence¡ªbut she had never felt any drive to learn an instrument. And the less said about her singing voice, the better (the System actually suggested she not take the [Singing] skill it last offered her and instead give up singing entirely!). The dancers had practiced together and gotten into great sync over the past half year¡ªand the [Bards] had clearly been practicing together as well¡ªso the final week¡¯s practices were mostly just getting them used to dealing with the excessively long dance and working out final kinks. ¡°No no no no NO! You should have that foot on that board of the stage, not this one! You carried too far! And you! Your hand should be above his hip, not on it!¡± The excitable old-timer screeched. There might have been a few more final kinks than Ranthia expected. The muse that Fausteo had spoken of turned out to be yet another [Bard]. They were either a skinny man or a woman with minimal curves. Their long hair was rough and neglected and they had one of those faces that could go either way. They sat down in the submerged portion of the theater with the other [Bards], right below the center of the stage. Fausteo stood next to the person for their final day¡¯s rehearsal while the muse mumbled something that seemed to always be at the edge of Ranthia¡¯s range of hearing, but quite impossible to listen in on. After the rehearsal concluded Fausteo gave them his highest praise yet. ¡°Well, good enough I hope! Yes yes! Rest, recover! Be ready! No alcohol! No rich foods! No nothing bad! Stay in and relax! I have THE [Stylist] coming bright and early tomorrow so we need you all here! We must put on the performance of our lives! And if we succeed well we will get the greatest of reward! The applause!¡± The dancers bowed in unison, eloquently and theatrically, their hands joined down the line. Ranthia was more than a little nervous, she privately admitted. ¡°Let me guess, [Sexy]?¡± The tallest, largest man she had ever seen asked. ¡°Um, yes sir.¡± Ranthia answered. How in Xaoc¡¯s glory did anyone get over level 300 as a dual classed [Stylist]?! She¡¯d never seen a non-combat class anywhere close to that! Even half that level was impressive for those that stayed in the cities and didn¡¯t risk life and limb. ¡°Right, sit down. We¡¯ll need to start with growing your hair, hon.¡± He ordered in a smooth tone. Was buttery an appropriate descriptor for someone¡¯s voice? Because his voice seemed buttery to her. ¡°Oh, I actually prefer it short.¡± Ranthia answered.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°That¡¯s nice, but Fausteo¡¯s word is law for this job, hon. Now hurry, I still have four more after you!¡± He chastised in a soft tone. Ranthia sat and the man set surprisingly gentle fingers on her hair. Moments later she felt the soft sensation of hair brushing against her shoulders and then against her back. Her hair had always looked amazingly healthy after Hexara finished with it, but with this man¡­ well, she had no words! Her hair seemed more like something a master [Artisan] painted than true hair¡ªsuch perfection felt downright uncanny! Her cosmetics came just as quickly, blues and silvers and whites, with a few tiny flecks of arcanite somehow embedded into the makeup in swirling patterns. Then a final Skill washed over her, one that tingled but didn¡¯t seem to do anything? ¡°And we are done. That Skill should keep your cosmetics from smudging and your hair naturally falling back into its current style and position for at least a full day. But try not to strain the Skill before curtains are up, okay hon? You¡¯re done, please send in the next performer.¡± He requested while he gently patted her shoulder. Ranthia was impressed. The whole process barely took any time at all. He needed only a fraction of the time Hexara required. Hexara¡¯d still be working on Ranthia¡¯s hair at that point, even just for cutting and styling her short hair¡ªlet alone this flowing nonsense that hung down to the small of her back. But Ranthia had to admit when she stood in front of a mirror in the next room¡­ she looked great. [Sexy] obviously agreed. It had¡­ oh holy gods and goddesses! [*ding!* [Sexy] has leveled from 200 to level 210!] ¡­Ranthia¡¯s loyalty to her girlfriend for her hair styling needs wavered. It was time. The seats were filled. The music began faint and built by the moment. Ranthia and the other dancers were hidden in place among the gorgeous, elaborate stage set pieces. A small army of stagehands dressed in black were ready, out of sight. The Light [Mages] and Mirror [Mages] were up in the catwalks above the stage. The lighting dimmed. And a beautiful, haunting voice filled the room while the curtain smoothly rose. Ranthia had only a few moments to peek at the crowd before it was her turn to emerge from hiding and dance out to join the other dancers that appeared one-by-one for the audience. The place was packed! She had previously located the seat that matched her ticket and to her relief¡ªand heightened nervousness¡ªfound Hexara in the third row, right where she should be. The eight raised VIP boxes on the sides of the theater were filled too, though the focused lighting prevented Ranthia from being able to tell who was in them. But the primary raised VIP box that faced the stage was far more massive than the others and, more importantly, was backlit so Ranthia could actually see into it. It contained Fausteo¡ªof course, he was expected to be there¡ªbut he was sitting next to¡­ ¡­WAS THAT THE FUCKING EMPEROR!? Ranthia had never seen the man, of course, but his statues were everywhere, and it was kind of impossible to miss the Praetorian Guards that stood behind him! And then Ranthia was out of time to look. She hurriedly tried to sink into her performance and reached for [The Art of Battle], [Steps into the Void], [A Void Dance], and [The Art of Dance]¡ªthey didn¡¯t all apply, she was just somewhat desperate in the moment. She was almost shaking, but she tried to calm herself down in her last precious moment or two. She knew her timings, she knew her moves, so she just had to trust what had almost become muscle memory. All she needed to do was to hold on to her experience and not lose to her own nerves. With a final breath, Ranthia twirled out on cue. Ranthia had never known throughout their rehearsals¡ªnot even the full-dress rehearsals that had dominated her recent experiences¡ªbut the entire dance told a story. That mysterious muse was the amazing voice that sang the story perfectly in harmony with the rich orchestration. Their voice filled the entire theater. It should have been deafening, but instead the voice always felt gentle¡ªthough powerful and moving¡ªalmost as if it came from nearby. Which explained why their level was higher than Ranthia¡¯s, they had to be practically a living legend with such incredible talent! A voice so beautiful that it brought the story to life and practically¡ªthank Xaoc, not literally¡ªpulled the audience onto the stage with the dancers. The story was about the fae¡ªwhich explained more than a few things about their costumes. The Court of Winter¡ªRanthia¡¯s group¡ªhad discovered a way to perpetuate their season¡¯s power and had frozen out spring. The Court of Summer¡ªthe other eight dancers¡ªgrew alarmed as their time approached, yet both the lands of men as well as their own remained locked in ice. They beseech the spirits of nature¡ªplayed by works of art manipulated by the stagehands¡ªto join them in their battle against the tyranny of winter. Ranthia and the other seven of the Court of Winter dominated the stage. They pranced about in a flittering, carefree dance. Content in their own position, confident in their power and authority. Engulfed in whimsy, they failed to notice the graceful, subtle movements of the Court of Summer¡¯s approach. A battle was joined. The chaotic, energetic dance was a clash of power. Brief flares of harmless Radiance, Fire, Lightning, Mirage, Lava, and other warm colors flickered over their costumes as they aggressively danced toward the Court of Winter. But the Court of Winter, though initially cowed, struck back with their accumulated power. Far greater flashes of (equally harmless) Brilliance, Water, Ice, Mist, Mirror, and other cool colors illuminated their own costumes as they weaved and danced toward the Court of Summer dancers. The frenzied dance continued for a time, but at last the Court of Summer dancers gracefully and slowly spun away as they were defeated one by one. The Court of Winter held a grand celebration to herald a winter that would never end. Their eternal rivals had, at long last, been defeated by their ever-increasing power. They paired off and danced together with whimsical glee. Grudgingly, unable to resist a party, the Court of Summer dancers arrived in twos to join the outer fringe of the dance. The fae Courts danced together, though with the Court of Winter clearly under the spotlight. The celebrations continued and the Court of Winter¡¯s power increased by the day (via impressive background work from the stagehands). The party faded slowly into the background. The triumphant Court of Winter dancers moved their ongoing revelry to the side as stagehands shifted the scenery with them to give the illusion of greater movement and a grander sense of scale. The Court of Summer dancers moved in the opposite direction and came together into the fore, backed by new scenery that had flawlessly transitioned in with their movements. Ranthia and the other Court of Winter dancers had a brief respite and were given small sips of cool, refreshing water with lemon and mint while they were tended to swiftly by the stagehands that awaited backstage. Three [Healers] buzzed among them to check them over too (apparently there¡¯d been a whole thing over a lead performer¡¯s ankle going out spectacularly mid performance a couple of years ago). Meanwhile, back on the stage the Court of Summer dancers danced to-and-fro, antagonized and upset by the erasure of the domain of their Court. They called upon the spirits of nature, as exquisite paintings, carvings, and murals shifted out, controlled by the stagehands. Nature itself suffered under the yoke of winter, which had been twisted from a time of rest and respite to a time of darkness and, ultimately, certain death. A plan was hatched, an alliance forged. Once again, the scenery was walked to the side as the dancers on stage fell back with it. Soon, the Court of Winter was back in focus, having returned to their dance of whimsy and arrogance. They flitted and twirled without a care in the world. The Court of Summer came without warning. This was no subtle ambush; this was the opening act of a war. Once again, the dancers began a frenzied dance, more energetic than the last. The Court of Summer came with their powers blazing. The Court of Winter met them with their own power. Each side kept their costumes activated endlessly now, aside from brief flickers when they were driven back. They pushed and danced toward one another, while Nature Spirits emerged and swarmed the field. Spotlights of carefully focused light shone from the [Mages] above on the Courts of Winter, which made their costumes shine brighter and and their harmless energy effects seem far more potent than those of their rivals. Nature Spirits fled, one by one. Still the Court of Summer fought on, desperate and driven. This was their final gambit; they could not afford to fail. On and on the wild dance continued. Dancers began to dim. Mana was cut to costumes as dancers pirouetted gracefully and slowly spun away, defeated before their foes¡¯ elegant savagery. At length, the clash concluded. Ranthia and three other members of the Court of Winter remained, victorious. But they only weakly sashayed and moved, their delight gone. The game had turned sour, their victory hollow. They swirled and moved to the side, followed by the scenery. They returned to the four of their own who laid on the stage, unmoving. The music turned from melancholy to a subtle tune of misery. Ranthia and the others sat with their fallen comrades and the light on stage dimmed then went dark. The soft sounds of the stagehands were all that could be heard from the stage in the sudden darkness. Then light returned, a warm light focused on the other half of the stage, where the Court of Summer dancers lay. Slowly, the first rose. Followed, at length, by another. They gathered and began a slow, careful dance with half of the musicians playing a soft melody in their honor. Light returned to the Court of Winter¡¯s side of the stage, blue in color and augmented by a soft, illusory snowfall courtesy of a Mirage [Mage]. The other half of the musicians began to play, as Ranthia and the other three ¡®healthy¡¯ dancers guided their fallen partners into their embrace and stood with them. They began to dance again, sharing their remaining power with their counterparts. Soon both factions were on their feet and dancing with their own Courts as the music turned more hopeful. Neither Court was defeated, but both had experienced the horrors of war. Perhaps through this revelation a better way forward could be found. The lights dimmed and the music slowed, then stopped as the curtains fell on the dancers that had frozen perfectly in place. Their feet were each on the proper boards of the stage that time. Their practice had paid off! A guest [Bard] emerged and announced an intermission. Five [Bards] specially invited by Fausteo¡¯s Musical Theater would each provide their greatest masterpiece, after which the show would resume. The performance was halfway done. Modesty was no longer a concern. Stagehands helped the dancers undress, and they gathered nude in the break room for a desperately needed rest. Stagehands offered them quick, gentle foot massages while others gave them a quick scrub with olive oil to help with sweat. For Ranthia and the other dancers, they just reveled in their chance to get off their feet while they drank more refreshing water with lemon and mint. There was also light food on offer, though none of them seemed inclined to eat more than a bite or two. The [Healers] carefully checked each of them over while they rested. Other workers hurriedly cleansed their costumes of any trace of sweat and refreshed them while they ensured nothing had come loose or been lost. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that was half the show. It felt so much longer during rehearsal, but I almost feel like I had barely just stepped out on stage now.¡± Ranthia muttered. ¡°Heh, yeah, I remember being bewildered the first time. I actually tried to argue with a stagehand that I wasn¡¯t done yet while the curtain fell. Took me a bit to realize that I had done every dance number I had.¡± One of the men replied. They were too focused on their short break for anything to become lurid or unsavory, even eyes rarely wandered. They had only a short bit of time and had to return to form before the too-brief intermission came to an end, especially since they needed to reserve time to get into costume again too. The garments were far faster to remove than they were to don. The next act of the performance began. From the Court of Winter, the dancer that could shine with Brilliance danced slowly through a new landscape, one that had the barest traces of spring but was frozen in winter. He danced past flowers blocked by ice, trees that wished to bud beneath their snow, and bushes that remained buried and cold. From the opposite direction, from the Court of Summer came the dancer that could shine with Radiance. He moved through similar sights until they all but collided. They danced around one another, wary. Their costumes lit up with their glows, but those faded just as fast as they came. Neither wished to fight any longer. The light for the stage as a whole dimmed even as a brighter light focused on the two men as they slowly came to a stop, along with the music. A moment of stillness, a moment of silence. Then a new song began, one touched with hope and anticipation. The men embraced and began to dance together. Some of the snow and ice went away, but only a little. More dancers emerged, drawn to the scene. They were cautious and fearful. Though the song of hopeful warmth continued, some of the [Bards] began an accompaniment to help set the mood. Mana fueled costumes in brief flashes as the Court of Winter and Court of Summer menaced one another. Yet their eyes continued to fall on the two that had embraced. Gradually, and gracefully, the two factions danced toward one another. But this time they did not clash or dance against one another. They intermingled, then separated. Again, and again, the pattern repeated. Each time they moved a bit deeper before they retreated. Wariness slowly turned into playfulness. They weren¡¯t truly dancing together yet, but as they flittered, their dances intermingled. At length, they began to switch sides of the stage. The ice and snow that had covered the set pieces was pulled away as they did. The energy of the music grew and the accompaniment transitioned into harmony with the main theme. The Court of Summer danced in earnest in a circle. One by one the Court of Winter danced over and slipped through the narrow and constantly moving gaps to reach the center of the circle. They each pranced and twirled about the inside of the circle briefly, before they danced back to the side. And so, the great winter came to an end. The Court of Summer threw a grand celebration and danced together. The Court of Winter paired up and stayed on the shadowed edges of the party at first. But, like any fae, they were unable to resist a good party. The dances continued, and pattern and tempo changed as summer came to its full power. Time passed, then summer¡¯s dominance began to wane as the seasons again began to change. With this change the dancers intermingled once more, though the Courts still danced their own separate dances. Slowly the music turned, and the Court of Winter came back to the fore anew. Winter returned to the realm after summer, as the gods intended. The dance for winter was playful and rambunctious while the scenery froze and, soon enough, all was ice and snow. The music and the dance were filled with glee. But then the Court of Winter gathered together into a tight group that danced, always moments from disaster; there was practically no space between them though they danced with a frenzied passion. This sequence had been the hardest for them to learn and coordinate; the tiniest misstep was likely to trip someone else. Worse, they had to move about, constantly shifting who was where. It was the meeting of the Court of Winter. Would they repeat their sin? They danced and flitted away, as they beckoned the Court of Summer forward. The ice and snow began to slowly fade. Balance had been restored. The Court of Winter and Court of Summer had become reflections of one another. Neither could exist alone. Neither could be greater than the other. The powers of the Courts grew and waned, which heralded the turn of the seasons. Harmony had been reborn. [*ding!* [The Art of Dance] has leveled from 189 to level 217!] The dancers joined hands and bowed gracefully to an audience that cheered and applauded so hard the entire theater shook. The music had stopped. The curtain had fallen. In that moment, they were no longer fae. They were performers who had just put on a show that would be the talk of the town for many days to come. Ranthia would never forget how she felt in that moment. [*ding!* [The Art of Dance] has reached level 218!] [*ding!* [Ranger¡¯s Lore] has reached level 218!] The afterparty had begun. Or perhaps it was a separate event that the performers had been invited to¡ªRanthia wasn¡¯t quite sure. She was dressed in her own gorgeous purple garment; she had retrieved it from storage ahead of the performance after she was warned she would need something to wear. A beautiful iron figure of an eagle in flight with a laurel wreath seized in its talons, similar in shape to the Ranger eagle of their badges, hung around her neck. Someone had¡ªduring the performance¡ªleft it with her belongings along with an unsigned note that instructed her to wear it to represent the Ranger Academy. She was still stuck with long hair and the makeup on her face though, but she supposed that was on purpose. She was supposed to be recognizable. Dozens of complete strangers had come up to her to compliment her performance. She was embarrassed, but proud and happy. She thanked them, made small talk, and moved on. Until someone far more terrifying approached. ¡°Ah, you must be Trainee Ranthia. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡± His strong voice preceded him. She was about to try to talk to the freaking emperor! Fausteo stood next to him, along with a buzzing entourage of sycophants, senators, and advisors. And the omnipresent Praetorian Guard a short distance away. Each of whom looked like they were ready to run her through with their spears if she even moved wrong. ¡°Sir, it is an honor! I hope the show was to your liking.¡± Ranthia politely proffered while she saluted. The gesture felt silly while she was in her beautiful garment, but it felt like the best move she could make. ¡°At ease, at ease! Yes, it was a splendid performance, and I hope any of our unseen neighbors that may have seen the show enjoyed it as well.¡± The emperor laughed. His entourage laughed. Ranthia nervously giggled and relaxed her fist from its position over her heart, though she found it quite impossible to completely relax her posture. How in Xaoc¡¯s name had she ended up in this situation?! ¡°I admit that I had my doubts when I heard one of our future Rangers was taking the place of an actor that had stepped down from the performance, but you were a credit to the performance. Are you from the military?¡± Asked the man whose statues dotted Ariminum. ¡°No sir, I was an A-Ranked Adventurer and was recommended from there.¡± Ranthia answered. She was nervous as hell, but speaking of strictly factual matters came more readily than small talk. ¡°Ah, yes. Your Guild is a credit to Remus, to forge such talent.¡± The emperor replied magnanimously. ¡°My gratitude, but we cannot take all of the credit. Your Ranger Academy has managed to polish even our best.¡± The Guildmaster¡ªAriminum¡¯s, of course¡ªseemed to materialize out of the crowd and smoothly joined the conversation. He nodded and smiled to Ranthia (was that a wink?), before he and the emperor moved away while they engaged one another in rapt conversation. Much to Ranthia¡¯s utter relief. Nothing quite put her on edge like being face-to-face with someone that could end her with ease if they decide to take offense to her mere existence. Being before him had reminded her of meeting Sentinel Night, except Night at least had felt¡­ friendly, for lack of a better word. It certainly wasn¡¯t the right word, but¡­ In contrast, the emperor had eyed her like she was a tool that was being mishandled, and not one that he was sure he had any attachment to. Sentinel Ocean neatly cut off a richly dressed man who had begun to approach her. He beamed at her and came over, while the richly dressed man sought easier opportunities. ¡°What a stunning performance! I thought Hunting had gone mad when he convinced me to recommend you, but that really did work out quite wonderfully. You were just as impressive as any of your peers; I can hardly believe that was your first time! I also found something that was lost in the crowds for you.¡± He spoke fast, but she was able to follow thanks to her vitality. But her heart soared when another, far more familiar, figure materialized through the crowds in his wake. ¡°Oh my goddess! Babe, why didn¡¯t you tell me you were going to be in the big Winter Solstice performance?! I was so floored when you sent me a ticket¡ªdo you realize how expensive those are?!¡ªand then you weren¡¯t there next to me, and I was so confused and then you were on staaaage!¡± Hexara embraced her giddily. Ocean winked at the pair, before he drifted away to intercept someone else that had been bound for Ranthia. ¡°Ahehe, yeah that¡¯s a long story. Let¡¯s just say I didn¡¯t know I was in it until the day was almost upon me. Then you weren¡¯t at the salon and so I never got a chance to tell you! I saw you in the crowd though!¡± Ranthia finally felt the tension bleed out of her body. Once again, all was right with the world. They shared a kiss, but separated after that, though they kept their arms joined while they talked. ¡°And your hair! Ugh, I don¡¯t know if I could make it look that good. You must have gotten a hell of a [Beautician].¡± Hexara pouted oh-so-cutely. ¡°Over level 300! Like, what? The guy was huge too, I mean I¡¯m tall, but I felt like a kid again next to him.¡± Ranthia answered giddily. ¡°No! I knew that theater was well connected but to get him to do you all? I¡¯ve heard nobles pay thousands of rods just to secure an appointment years away!¡± Hexara gasped, while she squeezed Ranthia¡¯s arm just a bit tighter. They just talked and enjoyed one another¡¯s company while Ocean played interference with anyone that would have dared to interrupt the couple. Neither of them mentioned Ranthia¡¯s L-bomb dropping incident. They just enjoyed the chance to be together for a time. The next morning, Ranthia returned her fancy garment to her storage first thing. With that done, she gathered her crate of scrolls and her few other belongings. The iron necklace had vanished at some point, and she wasn¡¯t even sure when or where. She bid a final farewell to Fausteo and the handful of other dancers that had returned that night, then set out for the docks. She was expected; unfortunately she needed to get back to Academy life. Ocean once again ferried her across to the island, while her hair flowed obnoxiously behind her. She had, finally, managed to wipe the makeup off that morning after some aggressive scrubbing that had left her face sore. But the long hair still seemed to refuse to be cut by her knife. She wished she had been able to take the time to stop by the salon and see if Hexara could outpower the ridiculous [Stylist]¡¯s too-powerful Skill¡ªat the very least it would have probably given her some solid levels¡ªbut unfortunately Ocean had been insistent that they needed to reach the Academy before the 6th Gong. So unfair! Book 1 - Chapter 38 - Academy V Ranthia had feared that her return to Academy life would feel¡­ weird. She had only been gone for a week, true, but it had been such a week that she expected to feel disconnected from what her life had been. She was wrong, as it turned out. Aside from a few snickers about her hair, she settled back into things quickly. Statia seemed happy to see her again, but nearly all of the other trainees had taken to feigning ignorance at her having been absent. She wasn¡¯t sure how the trainees had coordinated to that extent¡ªokay, it had Kaesios¡¯ fingerprints all over it, yes¡ªbut she was impressed. Not that it stopped her from causing a few¡­ minor incidents of retribution. The instructors pretended to be blind to them at first, but Ranthia soon sensed that she had run through their patience. She had managed, somehow, to do most of the assignments she had been given and so she found her classes proceeding smoothly. The exception, of course, being Rigira¡¯s. ¡°So, let me see ye juggle!¡± The dwarf demanded the instant Ranthia entered the building. ¡°¡­I can¡¯t!¡± Ranthia protested. Ranthia had made a few attempts at juggling; she even got offered a Skill for it. But her Skill slots were full and, given Rigira¡¯s entire point was that Ranthia couldn¡¯t just rely on her Skills, she suspected the dwarf might actually murder her if she succeeded only because of a Skill. But mostly, yes, all of her Skill slots were full. She just didn¡¯t have the time to learn the skill properly. Not with her other coursework and rehearsals. ¡­Okay, yes, there was also a small part of her that didn¡¯t want to, but she hadn¡¯t had the time! ¡°Ach, I am ¡®rofoundly disappointed! I would be quite livid if I had not seen ye performance with me own eyes! Ye worked hard on that, lass; good job.¡± ¡°Wait, you were there?¡± Ranthia blinked in surprise. ¡°O¡¯ course!¡± Rigira was abruptly replaced with a perfectly ordinary, short but unremarkable woman who held the hand of a small child. Together, the two took up slightly more space than Rigira did. Then, a blink of the eye later, she was back to herself. ¡°Did it without te kid, naturally. That other Sentinel guy, Sea or whatever, he let this old hand have a seat in ¡®is little box. Saw te whole thing. Nearly brought a tear to me eye, it did. Beautiful work, worthy of the Sierra Obelisk even!¡± The dwarf beamed, then seemed to deflate into an intense sudden melancholy. ¡°Um, are you okay?¡± Ranthia asked, unsure what to do. Offering comfort to the distressed felt reasonable, but there were major cultural differences and¡ªwait, how did she know that? She hadn¡¯t gotten any chaos-granted insight in a while, so it took her a bit by surprise. International Studies hadn¡¯t really even touched on interpersonal cultural stuff, which in hindsight, was a worrying omission. ¡°Aye, apologies lass. I sometimes nearly forget the Sierra Obelisk is gone, along with everything else. ¡®Tis a challenge, bein¡¯ a refugee ¡®n such. But ah well, enough whinin¡¯! Let us get back to makin¡¯ ironwood in ye!¡± Rigira announced. All too abruptly, Ranthia found herself trying to evade illusory giant wooden spears again. When she was struck, she had to hold still and take a blow from a real wooden block fired at the same place the illusion struck. Inevitably, sooner or later, Ranthia would find herself having to pick herself up off the floor or from where she got slammed into the wall. She would groan and work the very sore point of impact, then Rigira would make a variation of the exact same joke. ¡°C¡¯mon lass, yer tougher then that! ¡­Wait, yer vitality is over 3000, right? Eh, whatever, you should probably survive either way! Up with ye now!¡± The woman raised the vitality numbers each time. Unfortunately, Ranthia was pretty sure the force of the blow increased each time too. The blows were, in theory, helping to train Ranthia on how to take a hit when she had to. It was an essential skill for someone that relied on evasion instead of barriers or other defensive skills. Sooner or later, it would be impossible to avoid every attack when multiple ones were inbound. Ideally, she needed to learn how to determine which she could survive taking. Except Rigira¡¯s barrages were so absurd that Ranthia felt like she was just training her pain tolerance¡ªthere was never enough space to make logical decisions on which blows to take. Finally, when the two gongs-worth of abuse came to an end, Rigira had to get one last proverbial kick in. ¡°Do remember, yer just dealin¡¯ with me every night now lass. And I expect ye to be jugglin¡¯ for me by the end too! Maybe I just might make ye juggle while ye dance around evadin¡¯, that would be a show!¡± Ranthia could only groan in pain from her place on the floor. The last mistake had led to her getting hit by four illusions, which meant she took four wooden blocks. Kallisto had been the only other person that she interacted with who had seen her show, or at least the only other one who said anything about it (she was marginally surprised he noticed she was in the performance, with how much he talked about one of the other women that was in the performance). Ranthia often tried to engage the man in conversations about the scrolls that Kallisto left, ostensibly to discuss fine details of the strategies employed. In reality, Ranthia had realized that¡ªgiven the timeframe¡ªthe [Healer] that he spoke of had to have been the long missing Sentinel Dawn. She hoped to get some information from Kallisto about where she had gone and what she was doing. She was never quite successful, unsurprisingly. It was still wonderful to learn more about the woman that had saved her life. She was¡ªmostly¡ªover her childhood crush on her savior, but she still considered the woman a hero. Unfortunately, with how long Dawn had been missing and how cagey everyone was on what happened, it seemed rather unlikely that she would ever be able to reaffirm her gratitude. Ranthia went back to her knife-cut short hair when whatever Skill the [Stylist] had used finally wore off, or at least weakened enough that she was able to overpower it without risking [Void Edge]. It was far from a [Sexy] hairstyle, but long hair was so incredibly impractical. Time passed and spring came once again. Once the Summer Solstice arrived, they would graduate. Most of them would become Rangers, but a few presumably would not. A nervous energy was slowly building among the trainees, but their coursework continued unabated. ¡°It¡¯s a stalemate.¡± One of the other trainees in Unit 2 Sparring complained. ¡°You think so, eh? Not very observant.¡± Kaesios chuckled. Ranthia ignored them. Instead, she pirouetted to get the momentum needed to get around yet another blast of conjured material. Her time as a real dancer had further influenced her [Warrior] class, it seemed. It had gotten to the point that she started to consider [The Art of Dance] part of the class and strongly expected it would merge in soon, most likely into either [The Flow of Battle] or [Steps into the Void]. Her new Class Skill offering for hitting level 208 in her second class was horrible. [Hands of the Void] offered to let her treat her hands as knives for the sake of her Skills, including [Void Edge]. It sounded almost reasonable until she remembered that she didn¡¯t have [Void Resistance]. The Skill would have literally required her to cripple her hands! Most likely it was only offered thanks to her hand-to-hand training course, which annoyed her. Had she not taken that course she might have gotten a much better Skill. Not that she had any space for it, but it was the principle of the thing! She was in a sparring match with an instructor, namely Artillery Mage C. He had made a mockery out of almost every other [Warrior] classed trainee, and had even taken out one of the speedsters with absolute impunity. The man had some serious skill, but he was also under a restriction for the matches that limited how big an attack he could unleash. This gave her an opportunity. Ranthia adopted a different tactic. She made a few half-hearted attempts to close in early into the match, just to test his reaction speeds. But once she had her information, she kept to a range where she could evade and dance around his attacks. ¡°Okay, I yield!¡± He finally called out and threw his hands up in frustration. ¡°Match, Ranthia!¡± Another instructor yelled. Ranthia saluted her opponent instructor and moved off the field, only lightly winded. Dancing like that was nothing after her performance at the theater. ¡°What the hell, why did you give up? You could have tagged her still!¡± The disgruntled trainee yelled. ¡°I used a bit over half my mana pool and never came close. Honestly, she probably could have been ten paces closer and still managed to dodge everything. With the restrictions I was under, I had no way to end the match in my favor¡ªaside from just hoping she got careless and became suddenly stupid. She would have just run me out of mana and stabbed me. I can do without that happening, especially when the end was clear.¡± At that moment, he was entirely Artillery Mage C and not an instructor. Which got him more than a few looks from his peers. ¡°And that would be why you¡¯re the worst-rated person here.¡± Kaesios taunted the noisy trainee (who might or might not have had a name). The two immediately got into a scuffle and ended up getting shoved into the ring to work it out. Kaesios won handily. On the day before Ranthia¡¯s 21st birthday the instructors called them all to gather before the morning exercises. They were lined up in boringly orderly lines¡ªeasy enough for Ranthia when it wasn¡¯t a march, for some reason¡ªwhile they waited as the instructors gradually gathered near the gongs. Finally, one of them¡ªthe short one¡ªstepped forward to speak. ¡°Alright trainees, look alive! We¡¯re coming up on your final tasks and tests, but we¡¯re going to try something new, something that we¡¯ve never done quite like this before! ¡°We Rangers have a special training outpost. Tomorrow, you lot are going to use it for a little game. Half of you will be in charge of defending it, the other half will be in charge of attacking it. Defenders will wear a special iron badge, so no being sneaky and trying to cross sides and pretend to be part of the other group. The event will last from high noon tomorrow until high noon two days later¡ªthat gives you two full days to struggle! Defenders will win if they can hold the outpost! Attackers will win if they can breach the walls. ¡°A few rules to note. First, we are on sparring rules and by that, I mean regular sparring rules. Do not try to kill each other! Second, you may not disturb the ground of the outpost! That means no digging, no earthquakes, and no changing the terrain it sits on! Third, this is a Ranger outpost, do not destroy it! Only the gates may be attacked with intent to destroy! If anyone uses any skill or spell that can cause widespread devastation, we will come down hard on you, even if no one was in the blast radius! Fourth, we will be blocking off a section of the outpost! If any of you try to go in there or throw Skills off towards that area for any reason, including negligence, you will regret the day you were born!¡± Ranthia was less than thrilled that she would have to spend her birthday dealing with a long, pointless game that didn¡¯t even play to any of her strengths. Whether she was on attack or defense didn¡¯t really matter, she was all but useless¡ªcomparatively¡ªunless an opponent was within arm¡¯s reach. Ranthia was even less thrilled to find herself assigned as a defender when they arrived the next day. If she was an attacker she might have been able to attempt to scale the walls or something, but her abilities seemed to be useless inside the outpost. If any attacker reached her¡­ they already breached the walls and that meant the game was done. It also grated on her that literally every other Adventurer was on the attacker side, especially since she still considered her fellow guildmembers to be amongst the best of the best at the Academy. They could request to be removed from the game at any time, which was intended as a way to give them an out if they got wounded. [Healers] were on standby, of course. They would also be removed if they were knocked out. Defenders were strictly barred from removing their defender badge pinned over their heart and would be considered to be knocked out if their iron defender badge was destroyed or lost. Which seemed wildly unfair, it gave the attackers an extra way to knock defenders out of the contest. Animal Companions were also barred from this game, which pissed off several trainees who relied on formidable beasts. So, it wasn¡¯t like Ranthia was the only one nursing an exaggerated amount of discontent. The game was to begin at high noon, but they had arrived early to give each group time to settle in. They could prepare however they liked¡ªwithin the rules¡ªand they were given limited permission to cut down trees or acquire rocks and other natural resources from the area. Food was provided, thankfully. The defenders could mingle outside the fortress if they wanted¡ªbut no attackers were allowed inside¡ªthough they were on their own if they found themselves outside the walls when the game started. One of the instructors, wearing a bright red sash, appeared in front of Ranthia and Statia while they ate breakfast. ¡°Oh Xaoc, please, no, not the stupid blindfold! Not for this, I¡¯m already restricted enough by the situation.¡± Ranthia groaned. ¡°Trainee Ranthia, I regret to inform you that is not why I am here. Trainee Statia, you are hereby designated as the commander for the outpost for this game. Your word is law! Trainee Ranthia, you are second in command. If Trainee Statia is removed from the game, you will assume command! Further, Trainee Statia, if you hear anyone ask for help, you are to assume they are speaking to Trainee Ranthia unless they call you by name! ¡­And don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re making sure that the attacking side is barred from using the word ¡®help¡¯ for any reason. That is all!¡± He was gone as swiftly as he came. ¡°Oh, joy, now I get to be responsible for trying to prepare defenses for this half-abandoned would-be fortress.¡± Statia deadpanned. ¡°Commander, I am prepared to follow you into the fires of war!¡± Ranthia saluted, with an impish grin and a playful tone. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Come on, let¡¯s rouse the group and see what we can get ready before it starts.¡± Statia announced. A loud, echoing gong announced the game¡¯s start (not that Ranthia had seen a gong anywhere). Under Statia¡¯s command, they had prepared a number of rocks and boulders that were stacked along the walls and guard towers for use as weaponry. [Mages] were each given the highest ground they were effective from. Everyone else had bows, with arrows already nocked. They were ready. ¡­They were less ready for absolutely nothing to happen. Statia and Ranthia held a quick meeting and decided that the attackers were probably going to wait for them to lower their guard. Both were more than a little chagrined that they hadn¡¯t considered the obvious tactic. They tried to disguise the change as starting routine patrols, but they pulled two thirds of their people back and organized everyone into three shifts¡ªeach roughly similar in combat and sensory capability. One shift would be on active defense, manning their positions. One shift would be on standby, geared and ready but allowed to sit and talk or eat. One shift would be on rest, allowed to disarm and get some sleep. Roughly every three gongs¡¯ worth of time (not that they would have the gongs out in the middle of the woods a short distance from Ariminum), Statia or Ranthia would call for a shift change; whichever wasn¡¯t on rest. Active would move to standby. Standby would move to rest. Rest would move to active. Everyone seemed to expect the attack to happen during the night or with the light of dawn. Instead, things remained quiet. They sometimes saw scouts from the attackers, men or women that seemed to be investigating their defenses, but they never entered a range that made attacks worthwhile. Each time tensions rose, then crashed. The attack came late in the morning. Statia was asleep and Ranthia was supposed to be on standby. Hurriedly she bounded up onto one of the guard towers shortly after the call went up. Yeah, this was the real attack alright. The bulk of the attacking force moved forward carrying an absolutely massive battering ram they had constructed out of the bulk of their tree allotment. The thing was an impressive amalgamation of Skill-fused wood, and the bulk of their strongest physical classers carried it at a brisk pace. A second group, with a big guy carrying half of a tree by himself, approached the side gate. Ranthia whistled. Others throughout the defenders took up the whistle¡ªapparently not quite everyone could whistle, for whatever reason¡ªand the standby people either scrambled to their posts or helped rouse those that had been on rest. Statia soon arrived in the guard tower, still rubbing sleepily at her eyes. Ranthia took a moment to silently judge her friend before she filled the sleepy commander in. ¡°I¡¯m going to take the wall above the front gate, you good here?¡± Ranthia asked afterward. ¡°Yeah, go. Which of you is my speedster messenger?¡± Statia turned to the others in the tower to ask her question. That was the system they had come up with. Statia would stay on overwatch. Ranthia would take the main action. They were to keep a speedster sheltered nearby, a man or woman whose only role was to run messages for them, or report to the other if one of them was eliminated. Ranthia grabbed a speedster on the way, freeing the rest to take up their other duty posts, and soon was on the wall facing the charging group. The battering ram was even more impressive up close. Six big trees had been fused together by a Wood¡ªor advanced element¡ª[Mage]. It looked like it had to weigh quite a bit more than any of their logs in the hell months ever reached. Thick, sturdy handholds had been attached for the physical classers to carry it with greater stability. Water and Mist [Mages] kept the battering ram damp to prevent it from being easily set aflame. Unfortunately, their [Mages] were good enough to keep only the battering ram and not the handholds wet, which meant their grip was solid. Ranthia glanced at the Lava [Mage] stationed next to her. ¡°Will your team be able to ruin it?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Not a chance. Even I¡¯ll just be adding some extra weight unless one of them bothers to knock the cooled rock off of it. I just can¡¯t conjure enough material to make a difference.¡± The [Mage] replied, with a tone that suggested that she considered the question to be exceptionally stupid. Ranthia nodded and considered. ¡°Message!¡± She called. Her speedster arrived. ¡°Tell Commander Statia to see to the preparation of every drop of cooking oil we¡¯ve got left. We need all of it delivered up here all at once. Multiple containers. Go!¡± He went.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Lava [Mage] quirked an eyebrow. ¡°The instructors told us to use all of our available resources. Food is a resource.¡± Ranthia replied, with a smirk. The Lava [Mage] smiled. ¡­Which was a bit unnerving; her mouth was far too wide. It was almost as bad as Amaus¡¯ smile had been! The timing had been tight, but Ranthia had successfully swapped her [Mages] brigade for physical classers that claimed to be good at throwing. Each of them stood ready, armed with wooden buckets that were filled with cooking oil. Some of the buckets leaked a little, but that was fine¡ªthey would kick the oily bedrolls (every resource) that were placed under their feet down when the time was right. Shortly after they were ready, the battering ram was already close enough. The attackers were building up speed as they prepared for their first big blow against the gates. To Ranthia¡¯s eyes, they were moving too quickly. They would only jar themselves if the gate held. Honestly, it was perfect. ¡°Reinforcement buffs on the gate, now!¡± Ranthia ordered. She and the other physical classers kept their hands down, the buckets out of sight. ¡°The instant before the moment of impact, if you can. We want things to get slippery right as they have to deal with the recoil.¡± Ranthia whispered. There was no sense in using hand signals, her people were busy staring at the giant charging phallic object¡ªseriously did the attackers do that shape on purpose? They nodded at her words though, with a few brief smirks. They waited, even as the battering ram closed in. But soon enough Ranthia stamped her foot as a signal. Not quite as one, they threw their buckets, each aiming¡ªloosely¡ªfor a different part of the gigantic target the attackers had provided for them. The entire outpost seemed to shudder on impact, but the gate held. The attackers stumbled backwards, just as the buckets of oil smashed into their burden. Overall, Ranthia was pleased with their aim as a whole. Oil had covered the top of the battering ram and was dripping down its sides. Her physical classers leapt back down into the outpost, while the [Mages] scrambled back up. ¡°Burn!¡± The Lava [Mage] cried out¡ªa bit too gleefully¡ªeven as she and the other [Mages] began to rain Lava, Fire, Inferno, Pyronox, and Radiance down on the oily battering ram. Most of the attackers got a clue and backed away quickly. Others were either slower or more stubborn and soon found themselves clinging to the heart of a violent, angry blaze. Steam hissed and sizzled as the water mixed into the oil cooked off. Instructors ran in to grab the burnt students that were unable to deal with the damage. One shot a glare at Ranthia, before he ran off with his burn victim. Ranthia shrugged¡ªhey, she was mostly sure she wasn¡¯t breaking any rules so long as the Lava [Mage] watched her aim¡ªand started kicking the oily bedrolls over the edge toward the conflagration. She might as well add more fuel to the blaze before the spilt oil ended up causing problems for them. Enemy Water¡ªand Water-adjacent¡ª[Mages] tried to fight the fire, but the blazing oil was too hot to be put out easily. Instead, their efforts mostly just resulted in gouts of steam that the [Mages] had to back away from. Unfortunately, Ranthia noticed a larger problem. One of the trainees that was over level 200, namely an Inferno-aspected [Warrior] that wielded burning weapons in her sparring course. The man was charging at the back of the battering ram, arms held forward. ¡°Shit! Can anyone take out that charging classer from here?¡± Ranthia called. They had precious moments at best. ¡°Message! Doing something stupid, sorry if I get eliminated!¡± Ranthia called out, even as she acted. She leapt. Over the wall. Into enemy lines. By some miracle the hostile [Mages] and [Warriors] were too stunned at such a brazen display of sheer idiocy that none of them thought to take her out while she was in midair and unable to do much to evade. That¡­ had been a danger that only dawned on her after she was mid-air and committed. Ranthia landed. Hostiles were beginning to react, but she could finally move. She danced around attacks and landed a few swipes with her knives¡ªshe wasn¡¯t using [Void Edge] since she didn¡¯t want to kill anyone¡ªwhen she had easy targets, but she kept moving forward as quickly as she could. The Inferno [Warrior] smashed into the rear of the flaming battering ram and roared as he struggled to push it forward, creeping the blaze closer to the gate. Ranthia swept behind him and kicked the back of his knee with every shred of strength she had. It wasn¡¯t enough to bring someone with his level of vitality down, but it did make him stop for a second. She stabbed him in the armpits with her knives. ¡°Sorry! I tried to angle them to not hit anything vital, but you should really call for a pick-up.¡± Ranthia called before she danced back. One of the Water [Mages] almost hit the guy she stabbed with a jet of high-powered water when he tried to strip her flesh off with the torrential blast, but she danced to the side of the attack easily. The [Mage] was broadcasting his movements more than a little¡ªsome people really struggled to absorb the lessons the Academy tried to instill in them. Two speedsters charged at her and tried to overwhelm her with their speed while they jabbed at her with their spears. It was a solid tactic, with one fatal problem¡ªthey lacked the levels for it. She wasn¡¯t a dedicated speedster, but with the difference in levels, Ranthia was a bit faster than they were. It wasn¡¯t an overwhelming advantage, but it was enough that she could react. She ducked under one spear, kicked its wielder in the gut, then caught the other spear and pulled its wielder closer so she could slash him across his arm. It was kind of fun to have a strength advantage for a rare change of pace! With her attack done, she disengaged and drew a new knife to replace the one she dropped so she could catch the spear. Having so many knives in her belt still felt ridiculous, but it was a necessity. She had to get back to the wall. She was fast and slippery, but if they coordinated and ringed her in there was no way for her to get out without breaking the rules¡ª[Void Edge] was lethal force. She got lucky though; her opponents were surprisingly disorganized. She assumed that they had lost whoever had been in charge of the attack to the fire, but she wasn¡¯t going to push her luck. Ranthia rushed back to the wall, pursued by several classers, even as one of the stronger [Warriors] on her side lowered his spear, bent over to lower it a bit further. She leapt and managed to grab a solid hold while he pulled her up. Getting her feet back on the wall was sheer relief. ¡°Message! Mission successful!¡± Her wall gave a cheer, even if several of them were still giving her serious side-eye for pulling such a stupid stunt. Lava [Mage] was muttering that she would¡¯ve fried ¡°the idiot¡± midair before she landed. Oh well, as her personal 43rd rule of combat stated: if it¡¯s stupid and it works, it¡¯s still stupid and you¡¯re lucky. She could live with lucky, this time. The rest of the attackers had arrived too late to salvage their battering ram. Instead, archers¡ªcertainly not [Warriors] or [Rangers] that specialized in archery though¡ªwere harassing her wall. Their levels and skills were ineffectual enough that Ranthia was dancing in the open while she returned fire with her own bow. She was, if anything, an even worse shot than they were, but she was gleefully engaged in a bit of psychological torment. She even at one point caught an arrow and shot it back. Which, had it been even slightly intentional, would have been downright awesome. Instead, she was actually reaching for another quiver and just kind of happened to catch an arrow that was perfectly positioned and rolled with it. She wasn¡¯t quite arrogant enough to try to do it intentionally. She was hoping to learn what the attackers were planning next while she kept the lower level non-specialists occupied, but eventually her shift ended and she had no more information than she began with. Gods and goddesses being on defense sucked. The Radiance/Brilliance [Mage] that Ranthia had worked with in the colosseum once so long ago was a far more obnoxious adversary than she had ever expected. He had set up a large barrier of Brilliance and sat behind it, firing beams of Radiance straight through it like it wasn¡¯t even there. Meanwhile, arrows and other spells sent at him struck the barrier. He had eliminated several of her people, and it was only because his beams of Radiance seemed to rely on his fingertips that Ranthia was barely able to avoid being taken out herself. She was sorely tempted to jump down again and deal with him, but she wasn¡¯t stupid; there were bound to be some skilled ranged attackers on standby to protect him. It was too obvious of a trap. She had no idea what his mana situation was like, but¡­ well, why let him operate with impunity? ¡°Get me my throwing team again!¡± Ranthia called down. A short period of time later, rocks were lobbed into high arcs through the air. Most missed, but enough angled just right to come down just behind the barrier where they rained down on the [Mage] until he finally retreated while flipping them off. The poor guy was probably going to have some nasty bruises after that. Which served him right. ¡°Message! Tell the commander about how we responded to him. If he shows up at any other walls, they can borrow up to three of my throwers if they don¡¯t have their own.¡± Ranthia ordered. The sun was low in the sky when the sound of that mysterious gong interrupted the battle with a couple of [Rangers] from the attackers that had almost pinned down Ranthia¡¯s wall entirely. Ranthia looked around, confused, until she saw it. She cursed out loud, colorfully. The side gate was open. ¡°The attackers win!¡± One of the instructors called out, as everyone stood down. Ranthia was still pissed off, but the attackers¡¯ strategy had turned out to be damned effective. Her section was pinned down by the two best archers the attackers possessed. The Adventurers had also been roaming around, attacking the walls in undermanned sections. ¡­That was also a distraction, which defied Statia¡¯s expectations, she¡¯d been convinced the Adventurers were trying to find a vulnerability with their hit and run attacks. The real strategy relied on a small group of trainees that Ranthia had never even paid much attention to¡ªthose that made baskets for one of their courses, which felt like a bizarre waste of time. The four of them had managed to slip over the wall through a narrow opening while the defenders scrambled to reinforce those trying to repel the Adventurers. Those trainees had snuck through the base¡ªunchallenged, despite their lack of badges¡ªand managed to unbar the side gate. Worse, they¡¯d passed right under where Ranthia stood! So, yes, she was frustrated! They were doing great, and they had countered so many plans the attackers had made. She had actually started to assume the attackers were just desperately trying to find some vulnerability or chance. Yet it turned out they were still following a longer-term plan, and it was one that neither she nor Statia ever saw coming. The debriefing with the instructors didn¡¯t take long. They were generally pleased with the game. They felt Statia had been a bit too passive for a commander but noted that she didn¡¯t do anything outright wrong. Ranthia¡¯s own review was significantly worse. Some instructors felt the trick with the cooking oil was clever, some felt that it was borderline cheating, but most of them agreed that it was needlessly reckless to the trainees and endangered the outpost. The instructors were a united front in their belief that her leaping into the midst of her enemies was idiotic, the kind of move that one could only make in a spar where no serious consequences could arise. Ranthia bit her tongue and kept the thought to herself that she would have probably done the same thing in a real battle. They¡¯d already assigned her laps to perform once they got back to the island, she wasn¡¯t going to push her luck further. After they left, Ranthia sighed and slumped down. ¡°I spent my entire birthday yesterday on a stupid game and ended up not only losing, but also getting chewed out by the instructors.¡± She groused. ¡°Oh, it was your birthday? Happy birthday, a day late, I guess. But for what it¡¯s worth I don¡¯t think they were actually mad at you! You did good and held your section; if you ask me, you made for solid leadership. Honestly, I think they were more pleased with you than they were with me. They¡¯re right, I need to work on how passive I can be. The struggle with growing up, you know?¡± Statia replied. Ranthia found herself thoroughly distracted by that. Most people her own age were still so focused on growing up, which was something that was¡ªbizarrely¡ªeasy for her to forget. Remus tended to think of people as functional adults well before then, but there was a lot of mental catch up most people needed to do. Which might have had something to do with why she preferred older women, since they were closer to being peers to her¡­ ¡°Ranthia?¡± Statia¡¯s voice broke Ranthia out of her spiral of distractions. ¡°Oh, sorry! Was in my own head. Yeah, I appreciate it. I guess neither of us did terribly, it wasn¡¯t like they assigned us hard exercise as punishment or anything.¡± Ranthia said after she shook herself out of her introspection. Even her own laps were minimal, and she suspected they were mostly assigned over the instructors¡¯ annoyance about needing to establish a new rule because of her. Still, the best way for her to take the defeat was that it provided more lessons for her to learn. At least once she stopped feeling sorry for herself. Some of the instructors had wanted to make the trainees clean up the outpost themselves, but a support team from Ranger HQ showed up and asked them to please let professionals handle it and kindly leave. So shortly thereafter, the trainees packed up their supplies and began to file out. Once they got back to the island the instructors gave them the last two gongs left in the day off. The trainees clumped together and ate while they enjoyed a rare opportunity to socialize. ¡°So, any team you guys hoping to get on?¡± One of the women Ranthia had never learned the name of asked. ¡°Anything that isn¡¯t Ranger Team 13.¡± Kaesios replied immediately, to general nodding from the others at the table. ¡°Why?¡± Ranthia asked, confused. ¡°Ranger Team 13 has been wiped out entirely virtually every time for as long as I¡¯ve known. At least a decade, I think?¡± Kaesios replied. Others nodded in agreement. ¡°That¡¯s some shit luck, but it¡¯s not like any team¡¯s any riskier or safer.¡± Ranthia grumbled. Superstition bugged her on some level. Not all trends meant anything. None of her odd habits or beliefs counted for that, of course; there were real reasons behind those. ¡°Well, whatever. I am dead certain that everyone at this table, at least, will become a full Ranger!¡± A man that Ranthia had never even interacted with called out. Everyone toasted and added their own variations of agreements. Rigira had nearly fallen to the floor laughing when Ranthia completed her story about the mock siege. The chortling had started when she mentioned that the sneaky trainees had gone right under her feet. Rigira, of course, took it as total validation of her disdain for [Combat Awareness]. Ranthia felt the need to defend her skill; it was valuable. It had been a niche situation at best! ¡°Oh, come on, it¡¯s not like they set up explosives under me or something. They were just passing through; not like my other senses gave me any better warning.¡± Ranthia muttered. ¡°I mean ye were pretty stupid t¡¯ not keep two guards posted on te inside o¡¯ each gate, but fine I shall meet yer challenge. What makes ye so sure yer precious skill would have warned you if they did mean ye harm?¡± Rigira retorted between chuckles. ¡°I¡­ Well, I get the sense that it would, since that would clearly be a hostile action.¡± Ranthia replied. ¡°So shall we find out?¡± Rigira replied, with a scary look on her face. Godsdamnit. Rigira press-ganged the instructors that camped outside into service. In short order Ranthia found herself blindfolded¡ªof fucking course¡ªand seated on a conjured wooden platform, specifically perched atop a trap door that was secured in place by a rope tied somewhere beneath the platform. Also beneath the platform, several of the instructors milled around. Ranthia was forbidden from knowing which instructors were present, how many were, or where exactly the rope that kept her safe was positioned. One, and Ranthia didn¡¯t know which one, would at some point try to cut the rope. If Ranthia sensed the danger, all she had to do was shout. If she was wrong, she would have to eat five wooden block blasts from Rigira. If she failed to notice the sabotage, she would drop onto a bunch of wooden stakes beneath the trapdoor with rounded points. Painful, but not deadly. Naturally, Rigira had wanted them sharp to serve as a better lesson and had argued that a good [Healer] could probably fix the damage. The female instructor had, miraculously, talked her down, which made the woman officially Ranthia¡¯s favorite instructor. Not that she knew the woman¡¯s name beyond ¡°Sir!¡± Ranthia tried not to squirm while she waited. She was confident in [Combat Awareness] giving her warning since the rope was completely within its range. Okay she was mostly sure it would. ¡­Oh Xaoc, she really hoped it would! But either way, the wait was pure agony, especially as she doubted herself a little more by the moment. Finally, she sensed something. She shouted immediately. ¡°Damn, I hadn¡¯t even touched the rope yet. I had just barely started to take a swing with my short sword. Figured if anything you would have been dropped for shouting when I merely drew the sword a few passes back.¡± The female instructor called from below. Ranthia took back her earlier praise¡ªthe woman was an absolute menace that probably only went with a non-lethal option to let her feel better about her own involvement! Ranthia had been so sure the woman was among the instructors that left before the stupid game began! Rigira though was giving Ranthia a strange look. ¡°Well, damn. Was not expectin¡¯ that outcome.¡± The dwarf admitted sourly. The promised final tasks and tests of their time at the Ranger Academy were, for the most part, somewhat overstated. Visualization Exercises, Hand-to-Hand Training, Ranged Combat Training, Unit 2 Sparring, and Speedster Training all just continued to be regular classes until they were done. International Studies, Geography & Cartography, and Advanced Monster Slaying each had dense review sessions for their last two classes, followed by a somewhat perfunctory quiz over their basic tenents. Countering Sapient Foes didn¡¯t even try. Kallisto just hung out with her and shot the breeze for the last course, though he did offer little practical bits of advice for life on the road in the Ranger wagon. Mostly incredibly obvious stuff, but Ranthia appreciated the sentiment behind it. He seemed to have no doubt that she would make the cut, which was kind of a relief. Field Leadership Training had a surprisingly daunting final test. She was shoved into a room with 7 random Rangers that had already returned for the Ranger Convocation that was to be held in two days. She was given a short period of time to learn, generally, what they could do and how they fought. Then she was given a scroll with a scenario written on it and had to solve it using those Rangers while she was personally unable to act due to injury. The whole disabled by injury thing made her roll her eyes since that wouldn¡¯t actually stop her; even if her true body¡¯s legs were shattered, her mirror images would be fine. Even aside from that, it was hard to imagine letting herself remain downed by an injury in a crisis. Anyway, she was able to cheat shamelessly in the Field Leadership Training final exam. [Divine-Touched Identify] let her see exact levels and elements, and while it didn¡¯t include skills or even class names, it gave her enough information to approximate what she needed to know, especially when added to the information they gave her. Though one of the Rangers had claimed to be Forest aspected rather than Verdant for some reason. At least it was for his primary class, so Ranthia was able to claim she recognized the difference in his eyes. Hopefully that had been an intentional test. ¡°This was the best I could do. I think I¡¯m close to being able to add a fifth ball, but this is more complicated than it looks.¡± Ranthia was juggling for Rigira, who seemed delighted at the show while, simultaneously, disappointed that Ranthia hadn¡¯t mastered using all eight balls. ¡°Well, good ¡®nough. Now let me see ye dodge while ye juggle!¡± ¡°Wait, no not yet!¡± Ranthia lost one ball nearly immediately, unable to keep its momentum moving with her when she had to hop to the side to avoid an illusory attack. Rigira had dialed the challenge up to the maximum and there were¡ªonce again, by Rigira¡¯s own shouted warning¡ªreal wooden spikes being driven at Ranthia too, among the illusory ones. Those would do more than knock her senseless if they landed. By the end of the session, Ranthia could barely remember anything that happened. She had to use every last bit of her mental capacity to track threats, dance and evade, and somehow keep juggling three¡ªer two, when had she lost the third?¡ªballs. Near the end, it had very, very nearly become one ball, but she managed to recover the second. She vaguely recalled that part, but not what happened or how she recovered. She felt exhausted by the time Rigira stopped shooting at her. Immediately Ranthia collapsed on the spot. Rigira smiled comfortingly at her and approached. Ranthia was unable to even look up. ¡­And immediately took two wooden blocks, one to either side of her chest. ¡°Whhhyy¡­¡± She gasped from her back as soon as her lungs deigned to allow her to grab enough air. ¡°Ye dropped two. Ye got two penalties.¡± Rigira replied, mercilessly. Ranthia shakily raised her hand and held up her middle finger. ¡°Ha! I will miss all o¡¯ this. ¡®Tis been a pleasure. Yer still young, look forward to seeing what kinda ironwood ye grow into. Or maybe ye will end up more like one of them bendy trees that grow in windy places, now that I think ¡®bout it. Either way, I hope I get to see what ye grow ¡®nto with seasonin¡¯ brought on by age. Take care of yerself ¡®n look me up when ye worthy ¡®o te frontlines. Juggle all eight of ¡®em for me when ye do!¡± With that, Rigira gave a cheery wave and walked out of Ranthia¡¯s life. Ranthia needed more time to recover before she felt up to the journey back to her room. Though she swore to never touch those stupid balls again. Their final day at the academy was a total non-event. They ran in the morning, then were told to rest and recuperate so they could be ready for tomorrow. Ranthia would have really preferred being released into society so she could go get her hair done and spend time with Hexara, but they were kept on the island until it was time to head into town as a cluster for the Ranger Convocation. She was mildly frustrated that she wasn¡¯t able to class up at the Ranger Academy. She had tried her best to reach level 256 with her [Warrior] class, but it just wasn¡¯t in the cards. After more than a little mental back and forth, she decided to keep her free stats on-hand. That way she could distribute them if she saw a need after she became an official Ranger and met her team¡­ or, possibly, keep them until it was time for her next class up. In the end, all she could do was try to take it easy and wait until morning. Because they were to become Rangers the next day. ¡­Or end up left on the bench and forced to reassess their lives, as her more intrusive thoughts liked to remind her.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 21]
[Mana: 22900/22900]
[Mana Regen Rate: 6054]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 770]
[Strength: 1572]
[Dexterity: 4038]
[Vitality: 3105]
[Speed: 2825]
[Mana: 2290]
[Mana Regeneration: 2542]
[Magic Power: 1789]
[Magic Control: 1658]
[Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (230)]]
[Mirror Spirit: 230]
[Scattered Reflections: 230]
[Echoes Reflected: 101]
[Reflective Motility: 230]
[Persistent Imagery: 230]
[Mirrored Moves: 63]
[Distorted Likeness: 88]
[Reflections of Reality: 63]
[Class 2: [Blade Dancer ¨C Void (222)]]
[Void Affinity: 222]
[The Flow of Battle: 222]
[Void Edge: 222]
[Critical Strike: 181]
[Steps into the Void: 222]
[Strengthen Blade: 222]
[Cross Strike: 166]
[A Void Dance: 222]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Divine-Touched Identify: 230]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 65]
[Ranger¡¯s Lore: 230]
[The Art of Dance: 230]
[Combat Awareness: 230]
[Fast Learner: 206]
[Image Recall: 171]
[Sexy: 210]
Book 1 - Chapter 39 - Ranger Convocation The trainees assembled the same as always in the courtyard, as if they were preparing for morning exercise. Except it was no ordinary day. Suits of armor awaited each of them, each personally identified for their rightful recipient. There was suspiciously little chatter as the trainees got geared up, their personal belongings already stuffed into the bags that awaited them outside their rooms. No chatter, no chaos, just grim nerves. Ranthia¡¯s new armor fit her well, but there was no room for her arcanite vest beneath it. She swallowed her momentary frustration; it could get adjusted later. Some of their number remained silent out of nerves, some out of reverence for what the Summer Solstice meant to Rangers, and others because it just felt like there was nothing left to say. Ranthia had no idea which group she fit in; she was focused on what was to come. Soon, most of them would become true Rangers. But not all of them. Sentinel Ocean waited for them at the island¡¯s docks, aboard a ship unlike any Ranthia had ever seen. The ship was covered in metal plates and positively packed with siege weaponry. It was a vessel that could transport an entire legion¡ªprobably. Though something about Ocean¡¯s mannerisms and behavior suggested to Ranthia that he wasn¡¯t a fan of the ship. The trainees boarded and, ultimately, clustered into the middle of the main deck just to keep from bouncing around aimlessly. There were other decks, but their scant numbers provided a sense of comfort and familiarity. Two years spent in close quarters was coming to an end¡­ at least for most of them. If she didn¡¯t make the cut, would she re-enroll in the Academy? Ranthia was pretty certain the answer was a resounding no. Hexara would be disappointed in her, as would the city Guildmaster¡­ but she had done her best. Sure, there were countless little things she could have done differently¡ªdone better¡ªif she had the opportunity to do it all over again. But at the same time, she also felt like she¡¯d absorbed the bulk of what the Academy could teach her. She was disinclined to devote more of her life to grueling conditions and mind-numbing lectures for significantly decreased benefit. Ranger Headquarters hadn¡¯t changed much in the past two years. It was still a government building first, and a military building second. Ranthia once again failed utterly at marching¡ªenough so that Sentinel Ocean yanked her out of the formation and had her walk with him instead (that¡­ had to be a mark against her). His mood was still strangely tense and¡­ almost dark, not that he said a single word to give credence to her assessment. They were once again led into the strange nameless massive room, and it still felt so out of place in the building. There were benches set up for each of the Ranger teams, for the trainees, and for guests. Ranthia didn¡¯t miss the spaces left unfilled. Some of the team benches had obvious gaps in them for someone that was lost. Sometimes quite a few gaps. In a couple of cases, only a few men sat where eight should. One team¡¯s area was wholly empty. There were also add-ons for some teams. The [Healer] that was attached to each team was expected, though only some of the men seemed to have survived. But some of the teams had families attached¡ªspouses and small children¡ªwhich felt absurdly reckless and foolish. Hexara had once joked about becoming someone like that, but Ranthia had more than just mixed feelings about it. She loved her girlfriend, but she knew that Hexara severely underestimated how dangerous being a Ranger was. No amount of comfort was worth endangering Hexara¡¯s life. She just wasn¡¯t built for life outside the walls. She had survived her journey to the capital¡ªthank Xaoc¡ªbut Ranthia had no intention of taking her anywhere else. She¡¯d never be able to forgive herself if she got the woman she loved killed out of her own selfishness. The Rangers were the elites of Remus¡ªignoring the Sentinels¡ªand they were leagues beyond mere legion soldiers. And roughly a hundred of them died every two-year rotation. Their death rates were worse than veteran Adventurers, simply because Rangers were seldom in a position where they could say no to dangers that they were ill-suited to meet. Rangers weren¡¯t alone though, and Ranthia had come to the realization that she would have probably remained a solo adventurer until she retired¡ªor perished¡ªhad she not changed career paths. Also, there was something to be said for guaranteed pay. Dry spells with few job opportunities of merit were all too common a blight for Adventurers. Ranthia remained caught up in her own thoughts and distractions¡ªshe hadn¡¯t even noticed her thoughts had drifted off-topic¡ªuntil she was abruptly shaken from them. By drums. The eight men of Ranger Command entered and took their seats. Four assigned by the Rangers, four assigned by the Senate. And it was almost hilariously easy to point out which was which. Politicians, even those who served soft time in the military leading troops from behind, looked nothing like veteran Rangers or Adventurers. Sentinels began to enter as well, even as Ocean crossed the room towards his seat. Ranthia nearly lost her decorum and got out of her seat when Hunting entered. It was a massive relief to see the man. She thought he sent her a quick smile when he reached his position, but it was hard to be certain with the distance and the man¡¯s ridiculous level. ¡­Which had increased by 12 between his two combat classes. Only a few Sentinels were in attendance though: Ocean, Hunting, and one man she didn¡¯t know. One of the Commanders approached the podium and began to give a meandering, pointless speech. The man was one of the Senate members, if Ranthia¡¯s eye was any judge. He spouted puffery about how the Rangers kept Remus safe. Slathered with deep flattery toward the emperor, as if the man somehow had any real involvement in Ranger business. There was a token of gratitude to the Sentinels for their bolstering the legions. Which pivoted immediately into a diatribe of propaganda about the war. It was all hard to listen to and impossible to care about, yet the man seemed to be unable to even notice that he¡¯d lost almost the entire audience eighty or so word salads ago. And then it was time to carve the names into the Indomitable Wall. Ranthia finally had her answer as to what the strange thing was. A morbid monument to the fallen Rangers, stretching back throughout Remus¡¯ history. It was, in theory, something super important that every Ranger was meant to value above and beyond their own life. Ranthia was less impressed¡ªshe doubted anyone alive knew more than an arm¡¯s length of those names. The names were hollow memorials, meant to assuage those trapped by grief, only to lose meaning over time as those men and women passed on as well. Her more jaded outlook made her suspect that its only true purpose was to allow wealthy citizens to point at the names of their forebearers that had perished long before their time, so that they could act like that meant anything about the character of the soft, spoiled piece of shit that stood there pointing. A positively ancient man entered as the room turned eerily silent (aside from a couple of small children that absolutely shouldn¡¯t have been present). The man looked as if he might just have been even older and more withered than her ex¡¯s grandfather; accompanied by a younger man. Both were [Artisan ¨C Earth] tagged for their primary classes. The ancient man moved with purpose, but he moved oh so slowly. His eyes were clouded yet he marched as if he had done it a hundred times before. Once he reached the wall with his apprentice (or at least that seemed the obvious explanation for the duo), the drums began to play a solemn rhythm. The Ranger Commander at the podium¡ªnow a proper veteran Ranger, thankfully not the speech-giver¡ªcalled the teams one by one. Each team leader¡ªor acting leader¡ªunrolled a scroll and called the names of each of their fallen brethren and that was it. There were no words about how they fell, no final deeds announced. Just a name. With each, the ancient man¡¯s hand was guided to the next available space on the wall by the younger. Then with a tap of a withered finger the name appeared there, perfectly engraved for as long as the stone remained. For Ranger Team 13, the Commander read the names of the members from a list. Silence reigned in the hall aside from the names being called, then the Commander stepped back silently. Even as Sentinel Ocean stood and approached the podium. He balled his fists for the barest moment¡ªonly partially obscured by the podium¡ªbefore he spoke. ¡°Sentinel Destruction.¡± Two words filled with restrained pain and cold fury. No one seemed to know what to say, so the Commander behind him called out. ¡°Brave Sentinel. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± The crowd followed a heartbeat behind, the familiar mantra used for ¡°Brave Rangers¡± changed oh-so-slightly. ¡°Sentinel Nature.¡± Sentinel Ocean wasn¡¯t done. While Ranthia echoed the mantra, she boggled. Two Sentinels had been killed? What on Pallos had happened? The levels the Sentinels had was¡­ nonsensical. Was there some grand monster she never heard a single rumor about? Or did it have something to do with the war against the shimagu? She set aside her curiosity, whatever the reason¡­ It was time for the crowd to silently remember and acknowledge the fallen for a final protracted silence. One that had enough weight that even the children had the sense to go quiet. The Commanders at the podium switched yet again. ¡°And now I, on behalf of the Empire, congratulate and introduce our Ranger Academy graduates. As you hear your name, approach the stage.¡± He called out. ¡°Trainee Aalleus.¡± One of the trainees that Ranthia barely knew¡ªthe one from her table that had said the whole table would become Rangers, just recently¡ªstood and approached the stage. A Ranger badge of the eagle and the laurel was pinned to his armor. A hand was shaken. ¡°I introduce our newest Ranger!¡± The Commander called out, to general cheers and applause. He continued down the list. Names got skipped over. Every Adventurer had made the cut so far. Kaesios was still grinning like an idiot. ¡°Trainee Ranthia.¡± She stood and stiffly walked up to the stage. She had been called. The badge was pinned to her armor. She shook the man¡¯s hand. She was introduced. She was a Ranger now. Her reverie was shattered by commiseration. There had been 3 people seated between her and the next name. In the end, eleven trainees were left uncalled. The (former, she supposed) Adventurers had all been called. Every trainee that Ranthia held a positive opinion of had been called. 11 out of 106 trainees that completed the Ranger Academy. That meant 95 Rangers had perished, requested transfer to Team 0, or were retiring entirely. ¡°And now I will announce the new Ranger Teams for the coming round.¡± ¡°Team 1. ¡­¡± There was a susurration immediately over the first pair of names called, but Ranthia tuned it out. She had no idea who most of these people were. She kept her ears focused for the few names she did know. Statia was on Team 2, the first of the trainees to be called. Kaesios ended up on Team 4, along with another trainee. Other former Adventurers were called. Some of those called were trainees that she recognized by face, but had never learned the name of. The speedster she used for her messages during their failed defense of the base was on Team 12, along with one of the B-Ranked Adventurers. Hopefully they could look out for one another. ¡°Team 13. Velius Leoios Enduris, Sulbius Republius Maxius,¡± three other names that she missed despite her best efforts, ¡°Ranthia,¡±¡ªand after her name was called, she utterly missed the rest of what the man said for quite some time. She even missed that the murmurs had kicked up again hard when the first two names were called. She was officially a Ranger! ¡­On the team that never, ever survived. Suddenly the superstition seemed so much harder to dismiss. Ranthia barely even paid attention to the rest of the ceremony. At least she ignored it until two Rangers were called to the front by yet another Commander and the Sentinels stood. The change in the atmosphere drew her focus back to the present. ¡°A Ranger. At least one round. The undisputed best in his field. A grand feat. An open seat. The ability to survive on your own. Powerful combat prowess. Able to move through Remus and beyond, solving problems.¡± The Commander announced. His name was repeated once again, Ranthia only absorbed the ¡°Ranger¡± title from it. ¡°He has served four rotations with distinction. His combat style has proven uniquely suited to countering large groups of threats. He has fought beasts and men alongside his fellow Rangers. He has successfully led a team through this rotation without a single casualty.¡± The Commander worked the crowd. ¡°We hereby name you, The Torrential Sentinel!¡± The Commander called out as he pinned an eagle over a starburst on the man¡¯s chest. The man stepped back and was subtly redirected to stand with his fellow Sentinels. He looked incredibly out of place, even as the name of the next man was called. ¡°He has served two rotations and excelled. His teamwork has been lauded by the team leaders that commanded him. His power has brought potent beasts and entire bandit camps to their knees. He is responsible for breaking a stampede of eighty powerful dinosaurs that would have flattened one of our cities.¡± More propaganda. Ranthia wondered how much was true. ¡°We hereby name you, The Quake Sentinel!¡± The Commander concluded while he pinned the same starburst eagle on the man¡¯s chest. And with that, the room dissolved into echoing cheers that threatened to deafen the lower leveled civilians that were present. The ceremony came to an end once the fanfare died down and soon after the mingling began. Many of the other trainees offered Ranthia a consolatory pat on the arm or grimace before they rushed off to find their new teams. Well, the exception was primarily those left adrift; they were even more shellshocked than Ranthia was, it seemed. ¡°So just turn that run of luck around, I believe you¡¯re one of the best Rangers here. See you in two years.¡± Kaesios whispered in her ear, concluded by a forceful pat on her shoulder that nearly staggered her. Then he left her side and hurried to meet his new team too. She supposed that she needed to do the same. Ranthia finally found her way to Laminar¡ªor whatever his name was¡ªthe man that was Ranger Team 13¡¯s Leader¡ªher leader. He shook her hand when she approached, then had her wait a moment while the last two members were located. Once the team had gathered, he flashed a few Ranger hand signs to signal the group to follow him and started walking. The eight of them slipped out of what was rapidly evolving into a party, which would have been a shame had Ranthia felt a bit less numb at the moment. They moved through Ranger Headquarters without a single word stated, to a small meeting room that had six chairs assembled in a half circle. At his silent order, the Rangers under his command sat down, looking uncertain. Another man, the one that was the second in command, stood at his side. ¡°Right, let me clear things up first. For those of you that do not recognize myself or my second, I am Ranger Leoios of the Velius. I was previously the man in charge of Ranger Team 1, where I served for years. Republius has been my second ever since I first began to lead Ranger teams. Command approached me as rumors about Ranger Team 13 had become excessive. I accepted. I was given free rein to make a list of veteran Rangers that I wanted for five of my slots. I was promised one of the more experienced graduates from the Academy for the last slot. The rest of you are the survivors who filled out my requests.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°We will turn Ranger Team 13¡¯s poor reputation around. In two years¡¯ time it will be a team that Rangers aspire to and believe leads on a path to greatness!¡± The gathered Rangers nodded. One looked like he wanted to become ill. Ranthia still just felt numb. ¡°Chain of command will be in the order your names were called.¡± He added. ¡°What!? I¡¯ve completed a round and you have a fucking fresh-faced girl above me?¡± The sick-looking Ranger screeched in protest. Their leader fixed the man with a flat look for a time. ¡°Ranger Ranthia, please introduce yourself and make it clear why you outrank two technically senior Rangers.¡± He ordered once the man seemed sufficiently withered. Ranthia blinked twice in surprise and rushed to comply, cursing inwardly the entire time. ¡°Sir! I am Ran¡ªEr, Ranger Ranthia. I entered Ranger Academy on the recommendation of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, where I previously served as an A-Ranked Adventurer. I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re wanting me to mention that I was trained in field leadership at the Ranger Academy.¡± She felt flustered by the time she finished; that hadn¡¯t been very smooth. Their leader nodded and faced the man that had protested. ¡°Ranger Pibius, let me make this clear: Ranger Ranthia has more combat experience than half of this team. I would wager that she has more combat experience than you and Ranger Secundia combined. Furthermore, if we encounter a monster whose species I do not recognize? I will be deferring to her expertise to get us out of the situation. Do you have a problem with that, Ranger?¡± ¡°No sir.¡± The man responded, though his tone had a clear hint of petulance. The leader nodded with a calculating look in his eye. ¡°I am Ranger Leoios of the Velius. I am a level 412 Brilliance-aspected [Ranger], focused on archery. My second class is a level 327 Radiance-aspected [Warrior], which allows me to make snap movements in any direction at speeds similar to a dedicated speedster.¡± The leader introduced himself. ¡°I am Ranger Republius. I am a level 380 Dark-aspected [Warrior] and can all but disappear in shadowy areas. My second class is a level 313 Verdant-aspected [Ranger], which allows me to fire arrows that bind and restrict monsters.¡± The second-in-command smoothly picked up on the intent and nodded to the next man. ¡°Ranger Hallus, my old squad called me Hail. Level 289 Ice-aspected [Mage] focused on big artillery-style strikes with my ice. Second class doubles up, level 269 Ice-aspected [Mage], this time devoted to making things slippery and cold. ¡­Might need to coordinate with Ranger Republius so I don¡¯t choke out his plants.¡± The next man added. Ranthia was immediately jealous of his ability to remember names so quickly. ¡°Ranger Penticus. Level 277 Earth-aspected [Warrior]. As long as my feet are on the natural ground, I get a massive boost to my resilience and strength, and I¡¯ve got a restriction skill that strengthens it too. The only relevant part of that for you all is that I can¡¯t spend more than a quarter of a day without getting my feet on the ground. Level 199 Fire-aspected [Warrior] for my second. Lets me strike hard, but it makes me prone to overheating if I go too long. I have a bonded animal companion too, but he¡¯s currently with my daughter. I¡¯ll introduce him to you soon.¡± The fourth man bragged. ¡°Ranger Mettlea. Level 257 Acid-aspected [Warrior], I can make my skin acidic for self-protection and the class also helps me punch things without ruining myself in the process. Other class is still level 114, Poison-aspected [Mage] that can release clouds of toxins, but I haven¡¯t been thrilled with its performance so far. Second class is pretty shit for teamwork.¡± The fifth man admitted. Ranthia was distracted though, because midway through Ranger Acid¡¯s introduction a scroll suddenly appeared in her hand and she had no idea how the fuck it got there. She still unrolled it and hurriedly read it, biting her tongue to keep from screaming obscenities. ¡­She looked up and realized everyone was looking at her, so she hurriedly rerolled the scroll and stuffed it into one of her belt pouches. She could murder Hunting later. ¡°Apologies. Ranger Ranthia. Level 230 Mirror-aspected [Mage]. ¡­I apparently can create duplicates that act like weak barriers and can manipulate them to a limited extent. Working on getting my second class leveled to turn it into my primary. It¡¯s a level 222 Void-aspected [Warrior]. I¡¯m a speedster-adjacent build, I close in on the battlefield and use Void-infused knives to deal major damage. The biggest flaw is I only get one to three blows out of a knife before the Void ruins it. Also, the skill doesn¡¯t work with other weaponry.¡± She announced, still seething. ¡°Ranger Secundia. Two rotations under my belt¡ªoh wait sorry, we weren¡¯t doing that bit. I¡¯m a Level 252 Metal [Mage]. My other class is also level 252! ¡­Oh, this one¡¯s a Fire [Mage]. Looking forward to classing up soon, hope to get a good advanced element. Got a skill that gives me a second mind so I can use both classes more-or-less simultaneously, at least usually. Still only got two eyes though, haven¡¯t gotten offered a skill for a third eye¡­ yet!¡± The other woman called out. To Ranthia¡¯s eye, the leader was looking mildly annoyed between her and¡ªuh, other lady. ¡°Ranger Pibius. You want things to be destroyed, I¡¯m your guy. Level 200 Steam-aspected [Mage] and my second class is already level 168, it¡¯s an Earth-aspected [Mage] class. I make a good stone container, fill it with steam until boom!¡± The last man added. Their leader¡ªL-something, Ranthia was fairly certain¡ªnodded and fell silent for a few moments until he began to speak. ¡°Very well, we shall meet for breakfast each morning until we depart. We can go over anything we need to then. For now, enjoy the party in that room if you are inclined. I look forward to working with you all to reforge the reputation of Ranger Team 13. Dismissed!¡± Everyone filed out, except for their leader and second in command. The two immediately started a whispered conversation at tones low enough Ranthia couldn¡¯t pick anything up. That could have gone better. The others were in a rush to get back to the party, but Ranthia was dragging her feet a bit. She was in a team that most considered to be doomed and she was lying to them because of that absolute bastard¡ª As if he knew, Hunting¡¯s arms suddenly emerged from the solid wall and grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her¡ªface-first¡ªinto the wall. When Ranthia didn¡¯t find herself brained senseless and instead was inside a cozy little sitting room with three chairs and a cask of wine¡­ well, she was more than a little confused. ¡°You¡¯re in our HQ, there¡¯s secrets hidden pretty much everywhere.¡± Hunting explained with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m torn between being glad to see you and a deep-seated need to punch you in your smug face.¡± Ranthia grumbled as her mouth escaped the confines of her better judgment. ¡°Feel free to try, but don¡¯t blame me if you lose your arm in the attempt, kid.¡± Hunting retorted with a certain amount of glee that grated on her. She offered her arm for a handshake instead. Naturally, he nearly dislocated her wrist in a subtle display of just how utterly outclassed she was. ¡°That shit vinegary excuse for wine you like is in the cask, help yourself if you haven¡¯t found a sense of taste in the past year. Rigira had nothing but complaints about you, which I¡¯m fairly certain means she liked you. As for your dance¡­ eh, heard the performance was fine and the rest wasn¡¯t your fault, at least.¡± Hunting announced while he produced his own wineskin. Ranthia had no idea what that meant, but she had more important issues. ¡°I¡¯m not lying to my team about what I can do. No way. Not even for you. I¡¯ve been an Adventurer long enough to know that holding back can get people killed. A lack of information has been behind almost every brush with death I¡¯ve had.¡± Ranthia announced in an icy tone. ¡°Wasn¡¯t expecting you to, I was going to catch up a bit and then fetch your team leader, but if you want to do things out of order¡­ Be right back.¡± Hunting shrugged, stowed his wineskin, and was out the¡ªerm, wall?¡ªfaster than Ranthia could react. Ranthia shrugged and snatched up one of the cups and served herself some delightfully sour wine while she waited. Hunting and her team¡¯s leader walked through the blank wall¡ªbeing in a room with no visible exit was not fun, as it turned out¡ªand caught Ranthia mid-swig. She nearly started to cough as she tried to discreetly hide the cup¡ªthat both men plainly saw¡ªand salute at the same time. She gave Hunting a look. He just returned it. They cycled a few times, but it was obvious that he was going to make her handle the situation herself. At length, Ranthia allowed herself a tiny groan before she began to speak. ¡°Sir, under orders from Sentinel Hunting, I misstated the abilities of my first class. However, I told him that I refuse to leave my team leader ignorant. My orders are to keep my first class restricted until my second class has a solid level lead over it, but in an emergency, I will use my full capabilities! My mirror images are not just decoys, nor can I only control them a little. I can manipulate the mirror images rather well¡ªthough I might be getting a bit rusty.¡± Ranthia callously threw her mentor under the proverbial wagon. ¡°Eh, passably at best. Good enough for beasts and civilians.¡± Hunting quietly added, knowing full well both of them could hear him. Ranthia rolled her eyes and whispered a quick prayer to Xaoc before she continued. ¡°I¡¯m not certain anyone except Hunting and a couple of my former Adventurer colleagues know this, but I can also abandon my real body and temporarily take control over one of my mirror images and use it as if it were my own body.¡± Ranthia admitted. Her team leader had simply¡ªbarely¡ªarched an eyebrow at the whole thing. ¡°Very well, is there anything else I should know?¡± The man asked. In surprisingly short order, Ranthia found herself outside the hidden room while the men talked. That¡­ could not be good for her. Ranthia felt absolutely exhausted by the time everything was done. She had initially considered trying to surprise Hexara at her home or seeing if Sunshine was available for the night, back when she first found out that they weren¡¯t leaving immediately to start Rangering. But by the time she finally got to leave she just wanted sleep. Hunting had never showed up again. There was a lot she wanted to ask the man and she¡¯d really looked forward to catching up with her mentor, but he seemed to have vanished after his discussion with her new team leader. Not that Lyric (no, she was pretty sure that wasn¡¯t right) had known where Hunting went either. None of the Sentinels attended the party. So Ranthia wasn¡¯t just exhausted, she was moody too. Which meant that naturally, every accursed tavern and inn that she tried was at full occupancy! The Ranger Convocation seemed to draw in more of a crowd than she had imagined, not that she had bothered with the party itself beyond a quick investigative pass. Instead of playing stupid games trying more places as she slowly expanded her search area, she just decided to make the long walk across the city. There was one tavern that she was almost certain had rooms available. ¡­Assuming Remus hadn¡¯t come to its senses and condemned the building. The tavern she had stayed in when she had first come to Ariminum¡ªwhat felt like a lifetime ago¡ªwas terrible, but it was cheap. And, even better: it had rooms available. Ranthia barely made it to breakfast with her new team, since she¡¯d managed to forget the name of the caf¨¦. But she made it and was promptly informed that the current estimation was they would leave within three days, unless some issue arose that delayed them. Overall, the cheery caf¨¦ that her team leader favored was surprisingly nice; the layout was airy, and it had a touch of whimsy with handcrafted stuffed animals of all sorts scattered throughout. And the eggs and sausage she got were sumptuous! Her opinion of her new leader rose a few more notches, which was a ridiculous criterion by most standards but hey¡ªif she didn¡¯t approve of the leader as a man, it was hard to approve of him as a leader. Whatever his name was. Even better, he had already put in a request for ¡°quite a few¡± additional knives from the quartermaster for her already, and he indicated that his second in command would be able to resize her armor to accommodate her arcanite vest once they were underway. It nicely tied up all the business she could think of for the team, which freed her up to enjoy her food while the others talked. The Earth [Warrior] on the team¡ªshe really needed to work on learning everyone¡¯s names¡ªhad brought his companion bond as promised. It turned out to be a sparrow. A perfectly ordinary sparrow, if you overlooked the fact that it was level 254. There was no indication that it had any caster ability to use its Wind element either. She had no idea what a mundane level 254 small bird could do, but she somehow doubted it would count as much of an asset. It was still slightly too early to try to surprise Hexara at work, so Ranthia made her way back across town, again, and strolled into the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. She was bemused that the clerk somehow didn¡¯t recognize her already after only two years¡ªshe remembered him! ¡­Er, his face, at least¡ªbut soon enough she found herself in the Guildmaster¡¯s office. ¡°Ah, excellent. Ranthia, come in. I had hoped to see everyone before they left, but you¡¯re the first to stop by. I was unable to attend the Convocation, but I was informed that all twenty-three of you succeeded in the Academy and have become full-fledged Rangers. Most excellent.¡± The Guildmaster greeted her with a warm smile. And yes, twenty-three; they had someone drop out near the end for personal reasons. Ranthia was alarmed to learn that the Guildmaster had come up with yet another plan. With no small amount of worry, she listened to him explain how he planned to use the insiders he had ¡°planted among the Rangers¡± (stop making it worse!) to try to pull Rangers and Adventurers into a closer relationship. Thank Xaoc, the actual plan was far less terrifying than the lead-in sounded. In short, Ranthia¡ªand the other Adventurers-turned-Rangers¡ªwould each create a unique mark they could draw. If they used that mark when they issued a quest with a local Adventurer¡¯s Guild chapter, the main Guild branch would provide a second payment equal to whatever reward that the Rangers offered. In essence, it was a way to get Adventurers paid twice, or¡ªmore likely¡ªto allow the Rangers to hire Adventurers for less expense so they might be willing to do so. It was a plan designed to ingrain habits among the Rangers to seek the assistance of Adventurers when they needed backup. She would have to pass that on to her leader tomorrow. She had serious doubts about whether the plan would succeed¡­ but then again, had she been told three years ago that she¡¯d become a Ranger through the Adventurer¡¯s Guild¡¯s efforts she would have had serious doubts about that working out. Life could be strange. ¡°Ranger, what can our humble salon do for you?¡± The woman at the counter asked. Why did no one recognize her anymore?! They¡¯d met! Multiple times! She was almost ready to believe that the stupid armor and badge were somehow cursed to make people fail to notice who was wearing them. ¡°Is Hexara in?¡± Ranthia asked, after she successfully resisted the urge to roll her eyes. ¡°Um, yes. Is¡­ is she in trouble?¡± The young woman asked nervously. ¡°Of course not! I¡¯m just hoping for an appointment with her.¡± Ranthia answered after actually rolling her eyes. ¡°Oh, of course Madam Ranger! Um, please, just wait just a moment?¡± The young woman practically bolted down the hall. Ranthia just buried her face in her hands and indulged in a groan. ¡°I never thought of it before, but mmm, I think I do love a woman in uniform.¡± Hexara teased. Her hands and instruments of beauty were hard at work on Ranthia¡¯s hair already, which had degraded in quality in terrible ways despite the work the [Stylist] had done half a year ago. Ranthia cutting it with a cheap knife once his ridiculous Skill wore off had not helped. She was busy blushing a bit at the slight reminder of the L-word though. They still hadn¡¯t actually discussed that. ¡°Um, that reminds me, would it be okay if I stay at your place until we leave?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Oh, definitely! I would love to have you. Maybe tonight you can wear that armor and¡­¡± Hexara whispered the rest in Ranthia¡¯s ear. ¡°Oh! ¡­Well, you know, I doubt anyone would complain much if your appointment with an important Ranger took a little longer than usual¡­¡± Ranthia eagerly replied. They kissed. Gods and goddesses, she had missed Hexara so much. The next morning Ranthia dutifully reported the incentive to use the Adventurer¡¯s Guild to her team leader. He nodded and said that he would bear that in mind for any time where it would be beneficial to consider. And that was that. The spiced bread and soup of the day¡ªcheesy potato¡ªfrom the caf¨¦ held most of her attention. If the caf¨¦ had actually offered rabbit stew she would have probably been impossible to dislodge from the premises. [Sexy] was roused from its long neglect by her stay with Hexara, but that was far from the best part about having privacy with her girlfriend again. Ranthia and Hexara cuddled in the afterglow that night. They kissed again, neither quite ready for sleep. ¡°I really do love you.¡± Ranthia whispered, steeped in bliss. She was in a happy enough place that she didn¡¯t even freak out over saying it again. She was ready, and she meant it. ¡°I know¡­¡± Hexara replied. ¡­Yet there was something in her voice. So much for Ranthia¡¯s happy place. She squeezed her girlfriend gently. ¡°Hey, is something wrong?¡± Ranthia asked, trying to keep the fear and worry out of her voice and off her face. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ you¡¯re leaving. I think I¡¯ve¡­ had feelings for you for a long time. Goddess, I owe my life to you! If not for you I would have almost certainly died in that stupid jungle.¡± Came the response after a terrifyingly long silence. Worse, Ranthia didn¡¯t miss that Hexara was starting to cry. While she was trying to figure out how to respond to her girlfriend, Hexara barreled forward with her thoughts. ¡°But you¡¯re leaving. I know you¡¯ll be safe; the Rangers are the toughest people in Remus¡­¡± Hexara trailed off while Ranthia silently comforted her. It was good to know the government¡¯s propaganda worked wonders, Ranthia bitterly supposed. ¡°But it¡¯s still going to be two years. I can¡¯t say the words I want to. Not right now. I can¡¯t ask you to drop everything and spend your life here with me¡­¡± Hexara probably thought she had whispered that last part too quietly for Ranthia to hear. She severely underestimated Ranthia¡¯s vitality, of course. Non-classers tended to have a poor grasp of just how different a combat class at a high¡ªwell, what Ranthia used to assume was high¡ªlevel could be. Ranthia gently stroked Hexara¡¯s hair and let her cry while she considered the words she was never meant to hear. Could she see herself marrying Hexara? That was an easy question, definitely without a doubt. She would love to, even! Could she see herself leaving the Rangers? Probably, it wasn¡¯t like she had much of a connection to the organization and she felt very little patriotic duty to the Empire. But could she¡ªwould she¡ªbe willing to, out of nowhere, throw away both her careers as a Ranger and as an Adventurer? Well, she was pretty sure she could get a solid job as a bodyguard or doing security or something. And she did have a good number of rods stored away¡­ Gods, if they were careful with money she could probably just take eight years off entirely to spend with Hexara. But it would cost her the ability to keep marching forward. To continue to grow stronger. On a certain level, Ranthia was fine with that. But who would she be if she wasn¡¯t striving towards her safety and security? Could she even look herself in the eye and be confident that she could protect Hexara if anything happened? Would Hexara want to buy kids if they married (gods and goddesses, what cursed sentences slavery enabled)? Ranthia was pretty sure that she didn¡¯t want any children or pets; she wasn¡¯t even remotely comfortable with the idea of being wholly responsible for another being¡¯s growth and survival. Ranthia kissed her girlfriend¡¯s shoulders affectionately, careful to avoid the neck¡ªshe wasn¡¯t trying to seduce the woman. ¡°I know I love you. Let me finish this one rotation; it¡¯ll only be two years. We survived that long apart once already. I¡­ We can talk then. I love you, and I want us to share our lives together.¡± Ranthia loosened her arms so Hexara could turn to face her and she met the teary eyes of the woman she loved. They kissed, and something about it felt different than before. It was even better. The day had come. Their wagon was loaded. Ranthia¡¯s chest in the wagon held her Adventurer¡¯s armor, two dozen rods, and a simple cosmetics-stained pillow from Hexara¡¯s bed; a token to remember her beloved with. ¡°Wait for me, I¡¯ll be back before you know it. I¡¯ll send letters too.¡± Ranthia promised. Hexara had come to see her off. She wasn¡¯t the only one. The second in command¡ªRepublius¡ªwas attended to by his wife and sister. Earth [Warrior] guy (she was working on it!) bounced his young daughter on his knee as he promised her tales of heroism. Secundia¡¯s kid sister lectured her big sister on staying safe and the dangers of strangers¡ªfinal advice before she allowed her big sister to leave. ¡°I will eagerly await each one. And I look forward to seeing you in two years.¡± Hexara replied, with damp eyes. ¡°¡­My love.¡± The woman added shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. An admission meant for Ranthia alone. Ranthia smiled broadly and kissed her girlfriend one last lingering time. She made it last as long as she was allowed¡­ Because once she freed Hexara¡¯s lips, it was time to depart. Book 1 - Chapter 40 - Ranger I Ranthia took over scouting duties as soon as Republius finished with her armor. It wasn¡¯t like she had any special skills in it, but she had a nice blend of speed and vitality. Speed was her third best stat¡ªit had edged out even mana regeneration. Honestly, sometimes she barely felt like a [Mage] anymore; her magic power and control stats were close to her formerly dismal strength stat. It was strange, but it was what Hunting had recommended and it kind of felt great. Republius was probably a better scout, but the man was so busy with his numerous other duties that it made more sense for her to handle the task. It wasn¡¯t like she needed to defeat a classer¡¯s obfuscation skills; her goal was to ensure there were no obvious problems for the wagon and make sure there were no dangerous beasts in the vicinity. Anything that hid beyond the scope of her senses was highly unlikely to choose to become a problem. Plus, being a scout had the tremendous advantage of giving her more distance from the [Healer] that Ranger Headquarters had assigned to their team. The man was so self-assured and obnoxious that Ranthia had already started to fantasize about stabbing him. He would survive. Probably. Unless she activated [Void Edge]. She¡¯d decide in the moment if she ever acted on her urges. It would end her career, assuming her team didn¡¯t side with her and hide the body, but it would be so worth it. She had met very few men who were quite so versed in being so passionately opinionated and so incredibly wrong about nearly every single word he uttered. So, yes, there was a minor bit of frustration. There was one other benefit too; it seemed that the abuse that she had suffered in Ranger Academy had awoken something in her. She had started to find running, dancing, and weaving between the trees fun. Open roads were considerably less entertaining, she liked¡ªalmost craved¡ªthe obstacles. Obstacles transformed a boring run into an impromptu dance, where she embraced the rhythm of nature. After everything she had been through, she reveled in those moments when her movements got to embrace dancing in any form. She had even started to incorporate little dance moves into the day-to-day moments. She didn¡¯t care how much her teammates rolled their eyes over it. Mostly. She was still going to end up murdering their [Healer] though. He wasn¡¯t even a Ranger; he was practically equipment! And yet he had the sheer gall to tell her that her scouting was too slow¡ªtoo slow! As if his speed stat wasn¡¯t practically a rounding error. They were to reach their first town of their round later that day. Surprisingly, the wagon really wasn¡¯t that much slower than she was back when she was young and had travelled solo. Of course, half of the team could be faster if they just ditched the wagon, but there were a lot of reasons to not. The wagon offered many benefits. Faster travel for the rest of their group (and, sadly, one asshole [Healer]). It carried their belongings. It provided shelter and was reinforced to handle even an ornithocheirus attack. It was a nice cache of mana due to the integrated arcanite hidden within its structure. And it made their presence more noticeable in town. Since they were close, Ranthia had been ordered to scout into the wilderness around the town to ensure there were no impending problems. Large goblin nests, signs of dangerous dinosaurs establishing territory; basically anything that might threaten the somewhat smaller sized town in the near future. She was about to turn to scout in the next direction when, distantly, she heard terrified screams. Immediately she drew a special arrow from its little holster next to the quiver on her back¡ªwhich still felt weird to carry, yes¡ªand loaded it into her bow. She fired it into the sky, angled in the direction that the scream came from. The shrieking arrow¡ªthe recent successor to the whistling arrows that Rangers previously commonly used¡ªearned its name and the loud screeching noise that filled the air should draw her team to the same direction. Not that they had tested it before, but what was initial teamwork other than expecting basic competence from those around you? Ranthia was already moving at full speed toward the screams. ¡°What¡¯s the situation?¡± Her team¡¯s leader asked once he arrived. ¡°Just past those trees are four spinosaurids, irritator I believe. They¡¯re trying to get into a small cave, and there¡¯s people in the cave. Haven¡¯t tried to get close enough to communicate. The dinos seem to be enraged.¡± She replied. Sure, she¡¯d known the salient details about dinosaurs from her time as an Adventurer, but naming family groups and such, that was all thanks to the Ranger Academy. She still had her doubts about how useful it was, but she wasn¡¯t going to leave details out. She was mostly just relieved that the dinosaurs clearly couldn¡¯t get into the cave, so she wasn¡¯t forced to do something stupid solo. The whole point of being in a Ranger team was that she only had to do stupid things with backup! Her leader, Leosomething, drew his own bow and placed a perfectly ordinary arrow on the string. A moment later, he fired the arrow straight up. Some Skill he possessed left a trail behind the arrow, forming a shining column of light above them. Okay, Ranthia had to admit that the man had an impressive position signal. The eight of them had gathered, at last, beneath the slowly fading column of light (seriously, that had to be one of the top signal Skills in Remus!). While they waited, Leola (no) had Ranthia scout further until she located the direction that the people¡ªand dinosaurs¡ªhad come from. Along the trail she found two dead men, both had been savaged by the dinosaurs then left where they fell. ¡°So, it¡¯s not about food.¡± Ranthia concluded her scouting report with those words. It was a supposition, but predators didn¡¯t abandon kills to get more food¡ªthat was a great way to lose your food to scavengers. Most of the team nodded along with her¡ªPibald (that wasn¡¯t even a Reman style of name!) was the sole skeptic. Leodius started to solicit plans from the group¡ªno doubt testing them¡ªwhen they were cut off by a loud crack that filled the air. Followed closely by a scream. ¡°Damn! Republius and I will take the highest level Spinosaurus! Ranthia, you handle the next highest solo¡ªdon¡¯t go hard; we¡¯ll help you finish it if we have to! Mettlea, Hallus, Secundia you have the third! Penticus and Pibius take the weakest one and try to end it quickly without hurting anyone else! Go!¡± The leader called. They went. Ranthia charged out at full speed, the others that moved were slower. The dinosaurs turned as they noticed the Rangers¡¯ approach. But even as they turned, arrows flew past Ranthia and the others, each bound for the highest level dinosaur, a level 347. Ranthia¡¯s target was level 297. The level 246 dinosaur was already charging at them, but Ranthia just twirled around it and left it snapping at air¡ªthe trio spearheaded by Acid-guy could handle it. Ranthia reached her quarry. Irritators were large, but they weren¡¯t too much taller than Ranthia was, on average. And this group seemed to be about as average as average got. The beast snapped at her when she got in range, but she avoided the lunge and gracefully arced her knife behind its skull while she moved. [Critical Strike] guided her blade, [Void Edge] and [Cross Strike] made sure the cut did more than a little damage. [*ding!* You have slain a [Irritator Challengeri] (Wood, level 297)!] [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has leveled from 181 to level 184!] Ranthia nearly lost her footing, even as the dinosaur crumpled. She had¡­ not expected to kill it in one blow. The Earth [Warrior] guy that was supposed to draw the attention of the weak one hadn¡¯t even gotten there yet! After her momentary distraction, Ranthia resumed moving straight for the weak one, a beast that was only a few levels higher than herself. It reared back. She danced around it and struck at its left leg with her other knife when she moved past. The damn knife shattered apart, but fortunately none of the shards got her. The dinosaur stumbled, then fell; its leg wasn¡¯t able to support its weight. [*ding!* Your party has slain a [Irritator Challengeri] (Wood, level 347)!] Ranthia left the dinosaur that she had dropped and pirouetted to transfer her momentum, then raced back the way she came. She passed the Earth guy¡ªhis spear was held ready to end the dino she had driven to the ground. While he took care of that, she raced after the level 246 dinosaur that the man with Acid fists fought, supported by Ice that restricted the dinosaur¡¯s movements and a constant barrage of conjured metal. The dinosaur was already bleeding, but it wasn¡¯t down.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Ranthia wove straight through the spells; [Combat Awareness] and her own senses tied into [The Flow of Battle] let her predict their paths accurately enough to avoid doing anything stupid. The ice that covered the ground was a bigger obstacle¡­ or perhaps an opportunity. Once Ranthia reached it, she¡ªonly a little recklessly¡ªdove into a slide across the ice. As she passed under the dinosaur, between its legs, she slashed its gut with her remaining knife. The maneuver worked even better than she had hoped; she cut a nice wide arc through its belly. ¡­And her smug self-satisfaction was ruined when its guts flopped right on top of her. Ranthia emerged on the other side¡ªforcing Acid guy to dodge her¡ªsputtering and cursing as she tried to get the taste of raw dino intestines out of her mouth. The beast was slowing fast though (not that Ranthia was paying attention) and a few blows from her allies finished it off. [*ding!* Your party has slain a [Irritator Challengeri] (Wood, level 226)!] [*ding!* Your party has slain a [Irritator Challengeri] (Wood, level 246)!] ¡°Clear!¡± Her party members called out once they confirmed their targets were dead. Ranthia was more than a little distracted. Gods and goddesses, why did her aim have to be that perfect?! The men in the cave turned out to have been local idiots that got it in their heads to steal some dinosaur eggs for a quick profit. Ranthia was slightly smug since¡ªonce she washed off¡ªshe had been the one to notice that all four dinosaurs were female (studying had value, who knew?). That, coupled with how strangely enraged they were¡­ It was an obvious enough situation to figure out. Republius had confirmed the eggs in their possession, what few remained. The idiots had managed to smash all but two in their reckless retreat. He recommended the town guard charge them with risking the safety of the town, but he strongly doubted that the charges would stick. The men had, by their own admission, planned to run to town but the dinosaurs were too fast, and they were forced to seek shelter in that cave instead. Which was a small mercy¡ªwho knew what sort of damage those dinosaurs might have done to such a weakly defended town? Especially since the town seemed to be in a poor state. Either the harvest last fall had been poor, or some other expense had wrecked the town. It looked like they¡¯d sold or traded away everything that wasn¡¯t immediately essential. Their leader said they had no prior report on problems in the area and no one approached them for assistance while they lingered, so it was likely just a local issue. Ranthia suspected that the town was likely to recover; their fields seemed to be doing well already and they were obviously growing far more than they needed for their small town. Slightly more mortifying was that Secundia had taken to following Ranthia around gushing about how Ranthia had fought. Ranthia was tense and, frankly, somewhat uninterested in the older woman¡¯s praise or companionship. Sure, the woman was nice enough, but something about her personality came across as immature¡ªeven though she was at least six years older than Ranthia. It just made her awkward to deal with. At length the sun went down and the eight of them¡ªthank Xaoc the [Healer] wasn¡¯t welcome at their meetings¡ªgathered in a room that the town guard (all three of them) used for their breaks. ¡°After-action report. What went well, what can we do better?¡± Their leader began what promised to be a new routine. ¡°My speed stat is awful, should have warned you about that. If not for Ranger Ranthia taking out my target¡¯s leg, it could have caused problems with other fights.¡± Earth guy admitted. ¡°With the momentum of battle, I would have been better served helping you kill your target. That way we could have turned our arrows on a disabled target. Instead, I wasted time binding your target, which I do not believe had a meaningful effect.¡± Republius answered. ¡°You followed our former protocol, nothing wrong with that while we get a sense for our current team¡¯s capabilities.¡± Leopold (still no) assured his second. ¡°I need to keep more than two knives on me, even when I¡¯m not expecting trouble. We had spares in the wagon, but I lost one of my knives in a single strike. That¡¯s on me; I haven¡¯t practiced enough with my full-power strikes. My weapon reinforcement skill just isn¡¯t doing much anymore.¡± Ranthia admitted, grudgingly. It was a better admission than ¡°I shouldn¡¯t open a belly when I¡¯m directly below it,¡± at least. ¡°You may need to revise your loadout. A bandolier or a different belt may be required. I will permit you to use the team funds to acquire either item, within reason.¡± Their leader replied. Ranthia nodded, vaguely unhappily. A bandolier might get in the way, and she was still wearing the same belt that the deserters-turned-bandits had given her back when she was eight; the idea of setting it aside too¡ªso soon after she lost the knives that had come with it¡ªgrated on her more than a little. She was running out of her ties to her past. No one else spoke. Ranthia was a bit surprised by that and she swore she saw a brief flash of annoyance on their leader¡¯s face. Unfortunately, she hadn¡¯t really paid much attention to the others¡ªwhich was probably a mistake in and of itself, even if she wasn¡¯t very high on the team ranks¡ªso she had no idea if anyone else had made a mistake. She suspected that Hail¡¯s ice field had limited Acid guy, but that might have been Acid guy¡¯s call for all she knew. And then their leader announced they¡¯d begin teamwork drills when they had time. Teamwork drills became a fact of life for the team. While they were in town or camped in the woods for the evening, they were gathered into randomized groups (by drawn lots) and were expected to gauge one another¡¯s capabilities. They did this through a variety of games and contests, learning where they and their allies excelled and where they fell short. Through these drills, Ranthia found she was faster than anyone else in the group¡ªalbeit with a few caveats¡ªwhich surprised her. Speed was only her third best stat and most of her fellow Rangers out-leveled her! Yet only two of the team could beat her in some of the races. First, the team leader¡ªLeoios!¡ªcould beat her in a unidirectional race, but if there were substantial obstacles or turns, she took the lead each time. Republius was faster than her in heavy vegetation since the man had some sort of Skill that allowed him to pass through undisturbed by plant life, even though his build preferred him to minimize movements while he performed his archery. The Acid [Warrior] made for an awkward sparring partner. He could turn off his Acid, of course, but almost all of his Skills revolved around him fighting unarmed. Ranthia, on the other hand, had almost all of her Skills tied up in knives. Blades versus fists made for a poor spar, even with a [Healer] on hand. And in hand-to-hand he beat her with utter ease; his level and Skills beat her raw stats and [Ranger¡¯s Lore] enhanced fundamentals. When they had to spar, the most useful thing they found to do was for him to try to land a punch on her while she danced around and evaded. That gave her practice on evasive tactics in close combat, while it gave him practice on hitting highly evasive targets with irregular movements. Other games were far worse for her. Ranthia struggled not to be the absolute worst in ranged target practice. Earth [Warrior] guy had a more accurate throw than she did, and they had two skilled Archers and three [Mages] that were able to fire off conjured material or energy at targets reasonably deftly¡ªthough Pibius (progress!) was far worse than his peers. This left Ranthia and Acid guy competing with one another to not be the absolute worst as they threw knives. Ranthia¡¯s suggestion of Tali for a contest got vetoed by their leader, yet somehow his addition of some overly complex rule-heavy game played with stones and a carefully drawn game zone was okay? It was boring and frustrating! Ranthia hated it every time it came up. The fact that she hadn¡¯t won a single match of it so far had nothing to do with her disdain. The various tasks, exercises, competitions, and drills did help her cement her opinions on her team. Their leader, Leoios, was as hard-assed as any of her instructors in the Academy had been. He was a man used to command who expected everyone and everything to follow every order to the letter of his intent. He was a stickler for the rules too, at least to the extent that adherence didn¡¯t actively set them back. Grudgingly, she fully expected to end up respecting him. Even if she probably would never consider him a friend. The second-in-command, Republius, on the other hand, had a stick up his ass. He never quite seemed to relax and always felt tightly wound. Something about him was just cold and off-putting, though he was beyond competent at his job. Hail, the Ice [Mage], seemed decent enough, she supposed. His sense of humor didn¡¯t seem to mesh well with hers, at least so far, but the man was at least friendly and well-meaning. The inability to joke around kind of limited how close they got (which was probably mostly on Ranthia; she still had major issues letting go of the culture of Adventurers). The Earth [Warrior] was a bit of a bore. The man was pretty self-assured, but if he didn¡¯t have his bare feet on the ground he was remarkably lacking for a pure [Warrior]. His slow speed (what [Warrior] doesn¡¯t invest in speed at all?!) made him easy to work around, at least. She just didn¡¯t have the patience to converse with him much, for several reasons (especially his fondness for spouting off about his daughter when nobody asked). His bird was cute, she supposed, but she really couldn¡¯t grasp why anyone would form a companion bond with a regular sparrow. Acid guy was nice and the two of them had spent several conversations discussing his second class, Poison [Mage]. She liked the theory of creating clouds of Poison, but unfortunately, he really did need a third class to make good use of it; something like a Wind [Mage] would be ideal. He seemed to appreciate her recommendation that he should try to talk to alchemists to see if he could learn to do anything medicinal or more complex with the Poison other than just ¡®poison things¡¯. Secundia felt like a kid, and it drove Ranthia nuts. The woman was distractible and all too excitable. Worse, the woman really, really wanted to be close friends with Ranthia out of feminine camaraderie, but Ranthia found interacting with her to be exhausting. It drained her social energy as fast as any large gathering ever had! Then there was Steamguy (yes, she had learned Pibius¡¯ name out of spite, but she had decided to not use it). She hated Steamguy. He had a chip on his shoulder and her performance on their first mission seemed to have only made it even more massive. He was rude in that petty, childish kind of way where people assume that they¡¯re being subtly passive-aggressive, but it was impossible to miss. He was better than the [Healer], but that was not a compliment. Still, she got along relatively well with two of the group, tentatively respected a third, and could mostly tolerate and work together with all but one. The [Healer] didn¡¯t count, he wasn¡¯t a Ranger; he was equipment that didn¡¯t know when to shut up. She considered that a success and hoped that the teamwork drills would help improve their interpersonal relationships over time. Book 1 - Chapter 41 - Ranger II The round progressed. Slowly the team came together. Even more slowly Ranthia began to learn names, except for the name of their pompous, dour [Healer]. She was pretty certain she would never be able to internalize any name for him except ¡®asshole,¡¯ which was why she did her best to refer to him strictly by his class tag. They had resolved numerous minor issues, in that terrible relative weight of the word ¡®minor¡¯ when the major end of the scale usually meant something that threatened to¡ªor worse, successfully managed to¡ªdestroy the bulk of a town. In one city a man with a binding class used it for terrible things, and did not survive when Ranthia found him (self-defense, she claimed¡ªnot that anyone questioned it). Purple Flower smugglers were caught in another town and handed over to the local guard. A young, territorial dinosaur in a third village, which they managed to relocate somewhere it could live. Numerous other incidents with the local wildlife that were ultimately largely ignorable, as far as incidents went. An idiotic classer that decided forcing his three sons to help him kill travelers on the road was the fastest way to level them up. The three youths¡ªkids, really¡ªwere all too eager to surrender once Leoios put an arrow through their father¡¯s skull. Still handed them over to the guards in the next town, where Ranthia had to suffer through an irate old woman that couldn¡¯t believe that Rangers were unwilling to assist her with her neighbor that was ¡®stealing her hair¡¯. The woman never left the desk the entire time Ranthia was stuck manning it. At least the next city was one Ranthia actually knew. ¡­Well, yes, she knew of¡ªand had been through¡ªmore than one of the towns they had visited so far, but Aquiliea was the first she had spent real time in and had memories attached to. Those memories were a hearty mix of attempted beast extinction and dyed pigs, but they were fond memories of her childhood. Such as it was. Why on Pallos was she the one that had to introduce them? Ranthia put on her best Ranger Business face as she neared Aquiliea¡¯s gates. There was a bit of a line, since the city had clearly joined most of the larger cities in screening those that entered with [Healers]. Still, Aquiliea wasn¡¯t exactly massive, so it was a short wait. She was a Ranger now, she could speak to lowly guards without incident. ¡°Ranger Ranthia, speaking on behalf of Ranger Team 13. We¡¯re seeking entry to perform routine duties.¡± Ranthia saluted the guard before she spoke, just to be Extra Official. ¡°Right, all [Mages] will need to discharge mana. Everyone out of the wagon so the [Healer] can screen you all.¡± The guard ordered. The other guard that stood behind him frowned slightly, before he stepped back into the guard compound that was built into the wall. That was¡­ odd, but probably not alarming. Ranthia was mostly distracted with the urge to roll her eyes. A few towns hadn¡¯t required Rangers to discharge, but this was clearly one of the stupider rules over sense cities. And the need to be screened by a [Healer] when they had their own was just idiotic, but Leoios had been very clear that they needed to adhere to whatever [Healer] policies were required without question. It was kind of hard to forget the lesson after they just recently watched a [Farmer] get murdered by the city guard for refusing to let a [Healer] touch him, when they went through the last large city. Leoios had to restrain her¡ªalbeit just with a hand on her shoulder¡ªto stop her from tearing into the guard. The emperor¡¯s orders, he said. Gods and goddesses, what the fuck was wrong with their society? Ranthia, Hail, Secundia, and Pibius lined up. By Leoios¡¯ orders, Mettlea was to never mention his [Mage] class in town; no one really wanted him conjuring clouds of Poison just outside of a town. Ranthia made a single image with [Scattered Reflections] and made a show of slowly and clumsily moving it with [Reflective Motility] (no, she was not draining her mana). Hail used the mana dumps as an excuse to practice trying to make ice sculptures, at least until he had to put out the brush fire Secundia started (sigh). Pibius, as always, unleashed a thick gout of steam straight up into the air which made him unpleasant to be around (well, more unpleasant). After that it was time to let a far-too-young, low level [Healer] prod each of them. Republius was already done and back in the wagon to steer it through the gate once they were cleared. That was when the guard that had stepped out returned, baton in hand, and announced that Ranthia was under arrest. So, it turned out that maybe Ranthia hadn¡¯t quite gotten away scot-free when she was a kid and inflicted a bit of chaos on the governor¡¯s estate. At least one guard realized it¡¯d been a girl with short hair, not a boy. How they got her name, she had no idea, but there was a standing order. And lucky her, she got a go-getter young guard eager to prove himself that had memorized all the standing orders, no matter how old. At least the situation resolved itself. Honestly, it was kind of fun to watch the senior guardsman verbally dismantle his younger peer. The gist of it was that the man that had issued the standing order wasn¡¯t even part of the guard anymore and his mental state had declined rapidly before his death. Then of course there was the minor issue that the kid was trying to arrest a Ranger based on speculation from a decade ago (oh Xaoc, how time flies) on the orders of someone that couldn¡¯t even be contacted. She was allowed through, though she didn¡¯t miss the fact that Leoios was giving her some serious side-eye. Which was probably why she was assigned to patrol the city with Secundia. Her fondness for Aquiliea dropped multiple notches, but in the end, there was no need for the Rangers there. Soon enough, it was time to move on. Cities and towns were a bright spot, but the bulk of their time was spent on the roads, where they seldom encountered anything of note. Day after day, road after road. The sun was high in the sky. Mettlea was on scouting duty. And Ranthia was stuck working with Republius in the wagon. He was supervising¡ªsorry, advising¡ªher while she worked to repair her own armor. A close call with a starving bear¡ªshe had sorely underestimated the threat they posed when she was a teenager, it seemed¡ªhad cost her some of the leather strips on her skirt, but she did ultimately succeed in leading it to a stream that had an overabundance of fish. A happy ending where nature could balance itself out once again (ignore the fact that it was completely unintentional). The jerk of a [Healer] was also in the wagon, of course, with a face that fully suggested that he was silently, yet openly judging her. As if the man knew a single thing about leatherworking. At the very least he¡¯d learned to keep his mouth shut around Leoios or Republius. Ranthia could ignore him. Probably. Pibius was driving the wagon. Leoios and Secundia were still in the previous town while she classed up. They would catch up, which was why things were a bit relaxed and dull. Even Hail and Penticus had fallen back a ways; they were experimenting to see if Hail could keep Penticus from overheating. Their previous efforts had always shown little promise¡ªoften ending with Penticus both overheated and frostburned¡ªbut they remained optimistic that they could figure it out. It was all about graduality and timing, as the men eagerly explained before Republius finally just gave them leave to go do it. All in all, it was a perfectly ordinary day. The explosion came out of nowhere and shattered the peace of the day all at once. The sound preceded a great, bone-jarring impact against the side of the wagon. The wagon didn¡¯t just get knocked over, no, the force was so great the wagon began to tumble as it was thrown completely off the road. It¡ªthey¡ªcrashed through several of the thinner trees near the edge of the road before it settled to a halt on its side, pressed against the more robust trees. The one merciful detail was the fact that Leoios always insisted that they had to keep everything restrained. All the crates, boxes, and sacks were to always be tied or netted to the sides or bottom of the wagon. The man was adamant that no objects could be left loose that were not in active use; loose objects inevitably caused problems he said. The man was a godsdamned genius. His foresight meant that the only loose objects were Ranthia¡¯s armor and the armor repair kit that Ranthia had actively been using. Also, perhaps more problematically: the three occupants of the interior of the wagon. [A Void Dance] tried. It really, really did. But there was no way to start dancing while in a tumbling wagon and trying to completely avoid two other bodies in a confined space was all but impossible. Blows landed by sheer accident. The best she could do was try to keep her head safe while she struggled to not hit the heads of either of the men. It was one of those incidents that took only moments, yet felt like an eternity while she lived it. A brutal sort of chaos filled with terror and uncertainty.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Owww¡­¡± Ranthia winced as she stood up. The wagon was mostly dark. They hadn¡¯t been using candles or oil lanterns (thank Xaoc, she had better things to do than burn), but the tumble had smashed the doors shut. She hadn¡¯t even known the wagon was designed to do that. Republius was already up, eyes narrow and silent. A Ranger hand sign¡ªbarely seen in the gloom¡ªfrom him told Ranthia to stay quiet. He drew his bow and took position, facing the back door to the wagon. Another set of gestures ordered Ranthia to standby, ready to engage anyone that opened the side door¡ªwell, upward door at the moment. She paused only to carefully open her personal chest. She slid the bracers from her Adventurer armor on, then relatched it. There was no point in trying to find her Ranger armor at the moment, and in an emergency, she wanted the arcanite more than she needed armor. Her belt was always on while she was awake (and she kept it wrapped loosely around her arm while she slept). She was ready. She drew a pair of knives from the first holsters. Cheap, simplistic pieces of bulk-produced iron, not even proper steel. Pibius had, at some point during the tumble, stopped screaming. The [Healer] was crumpled on the wall that was now the floor, either unconscious or dead. This wasn¡¯t the time to check. Footfalls. Voices in eager discussions of prospective loot. Republius and Ranthia traded grim looks in the gloom. Ranthia suppressed all notifications except kills. The back door opened first, and Republius loosed his arrow immediately. A bandit fell back, gurgling. More shouts, followed by a clatter on the roof. Ranthia didn¡¯t wait for the side door to be fully opened, instead she sprang up with every spark of strength she could muster, one arm held defensively above her head. Ranthia¡¯s arm smashed the door the rest of the way open. In the instant of surprise, she took in the situation and adapted, catching her toe on the doorframe and flexing her foot to use the leverage to pirouette. Her knife spun and tore through two bandits that stood there. [*ding!* You have slain a [Mighty Slave of Burden] (Earth, level 164), [Bloody Brigand] (Dark, level 150)!] [*ding!* You have slain a [Service is my Pleasure] (Fire, level 201), [Future Bandit King] (Fire, level 180)!] Ranthia tried her best to ignore the gore as the two men fell lifeless, swaths of their heads outright erased by [Void Edge] (which meant [Cross Strike] hadn¡¯t done much, but it was better to be safe than dead). Immediately, she tossed the knife she used to the side and drew another from the second slot in her belt. She¡¯d learned her lesson. There was no way that she¡¯d risk a potentially faulty blade that might shatter before her strike landed, not ever again. A huge man threw a rock at her (quite literally, just grabbed a rock and threw it; it felt almost out of place). Ranthia immediately leapt from the side of the wagon, then kicked off the rock when she passed it to increase her forward momentum by a tiny amount. She landed gracefully beside the man¡­ her knife left buried in his eye socket when she passed. [*ding!* You have slain a [Bulky Butler] (Earth, level 107), [Dim Lackey] (Water, level 65)!] Three more men waited, armed with simple tools rather than weaponry. They tried to menace her with their equipment, visibly uncertain. They were even lower level than the last man had been, clearly the two she killed atop the wagon had been the ¡®elites¡¯ of the group. ¡°I¡¯m a Ranger and I¡¯m higher level than all three of you combined, yield.¡± Ranthia ordered with a disdainful roll of her eyes. Sometimes the fastest way to deescalate a situation was to show utter contempt for it. ¡°Yah, well, our numbers are way more bigger than you!¡± One of the trio retorted. Ranthia blinked at the idiot. Fortunately, his other two fellows seemed to be just as confused; if they were all that stupid they would have probably attacked. [*ding!* Your group has slain a [Eager to Serve] (Dark, level 68), [Dreaming of Escape] (Dark, level 34)!] That notification made her have to repress a shudder. It had to have been the one that Republius had put an arrow into. He¡¯d just been a kid! ¡°Look around you! Do you see your fellows dead?! Do you really want to join them!?¡± Ranthia snarled at the trio, her mood further soured over the notification. They were hesitating. They looked at the big guy Ranthia¡¯d already killed. The two bodies atop the wagon. Then they looked at each other and, suddenly eager to comply, they hurriedly threw down their tools and raised their arms in surrender. Republius had captured the one that blasted the wagon. The man was only a level 138 Inferno [Mage], but he confessed to having a skill that let him keep building up a skill inside of him all day. It let him put out a big blast, exactly once. And he swore the skill literally used every bit of his mana and it left him helpless since all of his stats went into magic power. The man was now tied up tightly and uncomfortably, with his hands pointed at his own stomach. Ranthia would never understand why so many [Mages] seemed to only be able to use their skills from their hands or their fingertips¡ªthe System wasn¡¯t so limited. More importantly though: gods and goddesses, [Channel] was horrifying when it was used for direct attack skills! Ranthia hurriedly geared up properly once their prisoners were secure, though it took her a bit to relocate all of the scattered parts of her armor. Thank Xaoc her quiver and bow had been secure in her chest at the time. The time also allowed her to confirm that their [Healer] wasn¡¯t unconscious, he was dead. Pibius seemed to be alive, thrown clear of the wagon, but there wasn¡¯t time to carefully assess his condition; their position wasn¡¯t secure yet. The bandits had a camp nearby. Ranthia and Republius scouted it and confirmed that there were five more bandits within. Pibius¡¯ potentially urgent condition forced them to engage, rather than signal for reinforcements. Republius launched a signal arrow immediately before they charged into the base, announcing themselves as Rangers. Four of the bandits surrendered immediately. It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out that their fellows went out to hit an incoming wagon and Rangers appeared to challenge them after their fellows failed to return. The only one that refused to surrender was an old man, [Laborer] in both classes, who insisted that they would have to kill him. The man was less than level 120 in his lead class, and he was old enough that his body was slowing. On Republius¡¯ orders, Ranthia weaponized the tyranny of superior stats to disarm and restrain the man, no matter what he demanded. Once bound, the man broke down weeping, muttering over and over that he couldn¡¯t go back. By the time they were done, Hail and Penticus were at the wagon and had further secured the prisoners that Republius and Ranthia had left there while they rushed to secure the base. That meant that Mettlea was still missing though. The sun had begun to set by the time Penticus pulled the¡ªnow upright, which had been a chore and a half¡ªwagon into the bandit camp. The camp itself was a little encampment with makeshift walls surrounding the ruins of some long-abandoned structure that Ranthia couldn¡¯t identify. There was just too little left; the bandits had only used it as a watchtower to keep an eye on the nearby road. ¡°Pibius should be fine, but he¡¯s still unconscious. Had to put the horses out of their misery, they were badly crippled.¡± Hail grimly reported after he led the prisoners over to where Ranthia and Republius had secured the others. ¡°Still no sign of Mettlea. The bandits claim they hadn¡¯t seen him.¡± Ranthia replied, her tone still cold. She was a bit worried for the man, but more than that she was just plain bothered by the entire situation. There was no reason to report that the base had been taken successfully¡ªthe other Rangers had eyes. Leoios and Secundia showed up right around the time Pibius woke up. The jerk was hungry, which was a promising sign, no matter how ugly the bruises were that were forming on him. They gave him some sausage while Ranthia took it upon herself to raid the bandits¡¯ supplies to start a large pot of stew. Leoios eyed her, but ultimately said nothing. It was nearly done when Mettlea walked into the camp, humming a jaunty tune. ¡°Huh, how did I miss this place? Anyhow, nothing to report.¡± He announced with a smile on his face. For a heartbeat, Ranthia swore that Leoios was about to attack the man. Their leader took a deep breath and, instead, ordered him to start running laps around the camp. At least Mettlea had the sense to not ask how many; he took off immediately. The rest of them ate, then carefully supervised their prisoners while they were allowed to eat. That night, Mettlea was assigned the first watch after he was finally allowed to stop running laps. Ranthia doubted that any of them would be able to trust him on scouting ever again; not only had he missed the bandit camp, but he¡¯d completely failed to notice the noise or Republius¡¯ signal arrow. The rest of them were tasked with sleeping, while Leoios and Republius went to burn the dead [Healer]¡ªRanthia never even thought to pray for the horrible man¡¯s soul¡ªand the bandits that she and Republius had killed. Yet, for the first time in ages, Ranthia found herself unable to sleep. Ever since Ranger Academy she had gotten great at sleeping, even when bothered or worried or upset (and she rarely even had nightmares about the war goblins anymore). But sleep just rejected her outright. Reviewing her level gains didn¡¯t make her feel any better. [*ding!* Congratulations! [Blade Dancer] has reached level 247!] [*ding!* [Void Affinity], [The Flow of Battle], [Void Edge], [Steps into the Void], [Strengthen Blade], and [A Void Dance] have reached level 247!] [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has leveled from 231 to level 235!] Just over killing three men and subduing a handful of others. The System loved to reward the slaughter of other thinking beings. Normally she was fine with it, but in the moment¡­ With a sigh, Ranthia gave up. She stood, walked a short distance, and began to sort through the accumulated stolen junk and supplies from the bandits. The kill notification for the kid just kept flashing through her mind. She hadn¡¯t even been the one to shoot the arrow, so she really had no idea why it bothered her so much, beyond the vague sense that it was just such a waste. ¡°First time killing another person?¡± Leoios interrupted her eventually. ¡°Gods no. Not by a long shot. Honestly? I¡¯m not even sure what¡¯s bothering me. The kill notification for the kid, the one Republius shot, just really got into my head for some reason.¡± Ranthia answered readily. She had begun to respect Leoios enough that she was happy to let him do his leadership duty and check on the wellbeing of those under him. Even her. Only a few years ago she would have brushed it off with an ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± but she wasn¡¯t the same independent Adventurer she had been. ¡°Ah. Let me guess, he had slavery-related classes. I¡¯ve known many Rangers that had a similar reaction to cutting down escaped slaves that turned bad.¡± The man replied as joined her in going through the supplies. They worked in silence for a time. ¡°I know I¡¯m being stupid. I¡¯m not blind. Escaped slaves or not¡­ There were no women here, yet it¡¯s hard to imagine that a group of only men escaped their owner without a single woman among them. Nor had they taken any other prisoners. We had no reports of bandits in the area robbing people and sending them on their way. There¡¯s freshly turned ground over that way that no doubt conceals the true horror these men did. They killed our [Healer], could have killed Pibius, and would have eagerly killed¡ªand likely done worse to¡ªus, had Republius and I been knocked out too.¡± Ranthia finally spoke. ¡°Valid observations.¡± Leoios prompted. ¡°Even the kid probably was involved in the darker stuff these pieces of shit did.¡± Ranthia admitted. ¡°But you dislike turning your power on those far weaker than yourself, especially those who had likely just wanted a better life but knew not how to obtain it.¡± Their leader offered. Ranthia nodded along with his words. They made sense. They filled a big part of the picture. She had no idea if it was the whole picture, but it made sense. ¡°It¡¯s just such a damned waste.¡± Ranthia concluded. ¡°Yes, it is. Come, let us take the next watch shift together, then you should rest. I can make it an order, if you need.¡± The man offered. It wasn¡¯t like they were truly doing anything productive. Rangers didn¡¯t loot rogue classers. For some reason. Book 1 - Chapter 42 - Ranger III Ranthia had largely stowed her own thoughts by the time they reached the next city. Or at least she had pulled herself out of her head. No matter how she felt about it, this was the world that she lived in. Some men eschewed civilization and turned to violence. It was a fact of life. And she would never submit meekly to the violence of others. They handed over the surviving bandits and the useful or valuable items that they recovered from the bandits¡¯ camp. In theory, the city guard would find out exactly who had been affected by the bandits and redistribute the contraband appropriately. In practice, she suspected the city¡¯s coffers would grow as soon as the Rangers left without even the most token of efforts put in. Ranthia treated herself to a real bath before she turned in to try to claim some space next to Secundia to sleep in the wagon; the men¡ªas usual¡ªclaimed spots in the city guard¡¯s barracks. While they were on the road Ranthia favored sleeping beneath the stars, but in a city they needed someone keeping tabs on their wagon and supplies. Preferably multiple someones¡ªSecundia was a surprisingly deep sleeper. The next morning Hail was given the duty to man the desk by their wagon to receive reports and complaints from the townsfolk. Leoios and Republius were off doing resupplies. Secundia had taken Pibius to see a local healer, just to be safe (which was a massive hit to their operational budget). Mettlea was ¡®asked¡¯ to investigate around the poorer parts of the city, with Ranthia ¡®requested¡¯ to stick with him for ¡®safety¡¯. Both of them knew that she was babysitting him to make sure he stayed on task. Penticus won the lot draw and was left to his own devices for the day. Mettlea, at the very least, seemed properly apologetic and eager to make up for his stunning failure. The man kept quiet and kept his eyes peeled while they walked through increasingly poor parts of the city. Ranthia was more relaxed, content to let him take the lead on this assignment. City patrols rarely uncovered much of anything, especially not when Ranthia was partnered with one of the men. If it was just Secundia and her, they sometimes had vulnerable women approach who needed help. ¡­Whether they could offer such help varied, though Ranthia still had a certain Adventurer¡¯s mentality that could mattered less than should. At least she could be sneaky when she had to be. They were in a part of the city that was so poor that there weren¡¯t even any stalls present, only quiet people that seemed in a hurry to be elsewhere¡ªespecially once they clapped eyes on the Rangers¡ªand a few filthy kids. ¡°Psst, you two, come over here.¡± A young woman whispered in passing as she walked past them. She never even looked their way as she walked away and turned down an alley. Mettlea glanced at Ranthia, and she subtly shrugged in response. There was no need to discuss it: they turned to follow the woman. If this was some sort of trap or robbery¡ªwhich was hilariously idiotic to pull against two fully equipped Rangers with their badges on¡ªit was better to spring it and smash through it. Besides, there was always a chance that it was something legitimate that Rangers were truly needed for. The woman cast off her hood once they arrived in a small, abandoned building. She was even younger than Ranthia had assumed; she was just a teenager¡ªa kid (meaning that she was 3-5 years younger than Ranthia was). ¡­Which was more than a little surprising, given the woman¡¯s classes were both close to level 150 (Ranthia was an outlier and should not be considered as part of the standard age-to-level rates in Remus). The youth looked around for a bit, then nodded to herself. ¡°Look, got a tip for you. The guards¡¯ve been robbin¡¯ people too, it¡¯s why they hasn¡¯t been doin¡¯ anything ¡®bout the reports of bandits much. I can tell you where they hidin¡¯ their loot. Unused part of their stables, behind the big locked door.¡± ¡°Uh-huh, and why tell us?¡± Mettlea asked, subtly signaling Ranthia to keep quiet. She resented it¡ªthe man was only barely above her in rank and she was assigned to keep an eye on him¡ªbut she held her silence. ¡°¡®Cause you¡¯s both Rangers?¡± The young woman replied. Her tone clearly conveyed that she thought he had asked a very stupid question. Mettlea groaned. Ranthia fought to keep a grin off her face. ¡°Fine. Ranger Ranthia, keep an eye on her. Don¡¯t let her leave. I¡¯ll find our leader and we¡¯ll check the tip out. If it pans out, great. If she was just trying to stir up shit, we¡¯ll hand her over.¡± He left. Shortly thereafter, the young woman not-so-subtly sidestepped into the shadows and vanished. Ranthia didn¡¯t react at all, at least up until the moment that concealed teen tried to carefully sneak past her. The kid was clever; she had the sense to wait for a moment before she tried to move. Ranthia still caught her arm. ¡°Neat trick, but a spot that weirdly erases sound entirely is super suspicious and makes you easy to track with high vitality.¡± Ranthia smiled. The young woman reappeared and scowled. ¡°Damnit. How¡¯d you know?¡± Ranthia could see the kid¡¯s Dark and Sound class aspect tags, of course. ¡°I¡¯m a Ranger.¡± She answered instead. ¡°Ugh fine.¡± The young woman pulled her arm free and flung herself into a corner. ¡°I saw you near our table this morning, didn¡¯t I?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Yeh. Was gonna report it there, but nearby guards made me nervous. Then heard you two were gonna get sent out here. Seemed safer.¡± The kid admitted, sulking. ¡°How did you know about where they keep their stuff?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Guards steal from us, so I¡¯s steal from them.¡± The kid replied with a sneer. ¡°Want to tell me more about how they steal from you?¡± She might as well do some information gathering while she waited for the men to either resolve things or start a problem that required the full team to intervene. If the kid was right, the latter was probably more likely. ¡°They always ¡®investigating¡¯ everything,¡± actual finger quotes were used, ¡°they take crates from poor merchants coming into town or small local shops. Contraband tip, they say. Gotta ¡®investigate.¡¯ But then they never give it back, or when they do it be half gone and they claim it was like that when they took it. Got records to show they right. Or records that show a tax officer seized it all legal like. Always excuses. They never do it to them rich folk or citizens, only those with little. My peoples.¡± The kid replied, still sulking. Ranthia nodded, then frowned. ¡°You¡¯re just a teenager and an urchin on the streets. Xaoc knows I¡¯ve seen enough of your sort from my time spent as an Adventurer. Why cut off your own meal ticket?¡± Ranthia finally asked the big question. ¡°Psh, would rather the shits be stopped from ruinin¡¯ everyone else. I can worry about me after.¡± The kid replied with a confident glare. Ranthia fell silent while she looked the teenager over appraisingly. The kid was skinny, too skinny. But she carried herself well and she definitely had the right mentality. The rest could be built up¡­ The teenager turned around and pulled her tattered cape over herself, turning her head to openly glare at Ranthia. ¡°I ain¡¯t no whore. Got some respect still.¡± She snarled. Ranthia laughed aloud at the absurdity of it. ¡°Sorry, but no. I prefer my women a bit older these days. No, I want to make you a deal, one that I think you might like.¡± ¡°I jus¡¯ said¡­¡± The kid started. Ranthia rushed to cut her off. ¡°No! Ugh, by Xaoc¡­ Look, you swear the tip you gave was good?¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t lie ¡®bout my people¡¯s safety.¡± The kid answered. ¡°Good enough. Got a name?¡± At last, progress! ¡°Vert. Gave it to meself, ain¡¯t never got one from whoever my parents were.¡± The kid answered. Ranthia sighed and silently repeated the name in her head the entire time while she took a moment to convince herself. It was a long shot, but¡­ ¡°Vert, what do you think about trying to become a Ranger yourself in a couple of years?¡± Ranthia asked, proud of herself for accomplishing the completely ordinary task of remembering someone¡¯s name for a few moments. Vert¡¯s tip paid off in a huge way. One of Leoios¡¯ big emergency signal arrows went up a short time later. The corrupt guards had chosen to do something that was all too common in a Ranger¡¯s line of work: they committed suicide by Ranger. Ranthia and the others rushed to join Leoios, Republius, Hail, and Mettlea, then the eight of them tore through over half the city guard. They fell far behind schedule as the investigations continued. Every now and then another corrupt guard would panic and try to kill one of them, often picking Ranthia, Secundia, or Pibius to try to ambush. After the second attempt, they were ordered to stick together in pairs¡ªat a minimum¡ªexcept the times Leoios used Ranthia as bait. Ranthia eschewed Hunting¡¯s orders every time that happened. Leoios and Ranthia worked as a pair, without the others involved. She used her mirror images¡ªand occasionally even dusted off [Reflections of Reality] to shift¡ªas they countered entire groups of guards and hired thugs. It was refreshing, but sadly the moments of freedom from her restrictions were far too limited. In the end, Leoios personally executed the captain of the guard, and they had arrested almost the entirety of the surviving city guards. They had, very nearly to a man, all been involved in the scheme and it went back years. The exact flavor of excuse they used varied over time yet, somehow, it seemed that the city¡¯s leadership and judiciary were completely innocent (since, tragically, sheer incompetence wasn¡¯t a crime, not even from those responsible for the lives and welfare of others). There was only one other person outside of the city guard that they were able to tie anything to. The leader of the local tax collectors whose involvement was just selling the city guard a stack of tax appropriations forms with his signature on them. It was still a crime though, and Ranthia suspected that the entire team secretly enjoyed arresting the tax collector. It was cathartic! Another Ranger team arrived while the investigations were underway, but they hurriedly moved on as soon as they learned that Ranger Team 13 had the situation in hand and would be sticking around. Ranthia didn¡¯t even get a chance to say hi to the former Adventurer on their team! By the time that Ranger Team 13 left town (horribly late): The 3rd Legion had been deployed to the city to replace the mostly absent city guard. Which was not giving Ranthia happy vibes or memories. A courier clad in reds and golds arrived with a decree that the governor was to be replaced, under orders of the Emperor. (Huh, maybe incompetence was frowned upon!) Roughly sixty-four men and women had been killed or arrested.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Ranger Team 13 had ¡®accidentally¡¯ disseminated the coin recovered from the bandits to the citizens that had been affected by the corrupt guards. (Leoios was unamused, but surprisingly Republius had distracted him.) Ranthia had reached level 254 in [Shards of Reflection] and level 252 in [Blade Dancer] (though she was rather surprised that her [Covenant] hadn¡¯t leveled at all; the situation had sure felt chaotic). Ranger Team 9 should have arrived days ago and Leoios seemed to be judging them hard for being late. As if he had any room to talk. And Ranthia¡¯s own storage chest was lighter. Thanks to her sacrifice, Vert had money to live on and¡ªhopefully¡ªwould follow through in turning her life around and training herself. Ranthia had promised that, come late spring in a year and a half¡¯s time on a particular day, she would meet the kid on the street where they first encountered one another. The kid hedged that she would only if she didn¡¯t change her mind, but said she¡¯d maybe be there. ¡­Which left Ranthia with a need to figure out how to backtrack back to the city while her team made its way back to Ariminum ahead of the Summer Solstice at the end of their round, but that was a problem for future Ranthia to figure out. They were barely out of the city gates when Leoios announced that they were altering their route due to how long they had been delayed. Ranthia¡­ had her doubts about whether or not the man was supposed to do that, but he was the leader. She was a bit gutted to know that this meant they wouldn¡¯t be heading towards Sardonia though; she had looked forward to showing the people that lived there just how far she had come! Still, it was so far out of the way that just removing it alone nearly had them back on schedule. She understood, but she was still disappointed. A few more minor towns, with simple problems. They were almost back on schedule. In this little village, a young boy had run away from the town and was somewhere in the nearby woodlands. Leoios ordered the rest of the Rangers to assist in locating the boy, while he and Republius handled other matters. ¡°Can your bird find the kid?¡± Secundia asked Penticus. ¡°What?¡± The man replied. Pibius had started to snicker. ¡°Your bird can fly around and find the kid, then lead us to it!¡± The woman explained with a grin. Pibius¡¯ snickering developed into a full-fledged chortle. Ranthia was torn between frustration at his attitude and a horrible urge to join him. ¡°¡­He¡¯s a sparrow.¡± Penticus explained, plainly baffled. ¡°I¡¯ve heard all the stories! Bonded companions are the stuff of legends! You can see through one another¡¯s eyes and he¡¯s super smart.¡± Secundia explained confidently. With that, Pibius fell over and entered a full-on laugh attack. Even Penticus, Hail, and Mettlea seemed amused. Ranthia may or may not have let out an amused snort before she got a grip on herself. To be fair to Secundia, while companion bonds weren¡¯t exactly rare among Rangers, probably only roughly half of the teams had one¡ªbased on Ranthia¡¯s cursory experience in the nameless room. So, this was probably Secundia¡¯s first time really interacting with one. To be unfair, it was a bird. She suspected the bulk of any advantage the companion bond gave its tiny mind was wholly devoted to the thing not flying off or migrating. ¡°No way! I mean sure he¡¯s smarter than your average sparrow, but complex orders? Nope. It¡¯s a companion bond, not a¡­ I dunno. Maybe there¡¯s a class devoted to a companion bond that could do some of that, but off a single skill? No way!¡± Penticus explained. Ranthia just shook her head. The value of a companion bond seemed to plummet further every time she had to interact with one. How on Pallos was a glorified pet worth a skill slot and eternally halved level gains? Without exception they seemed to be a vulnerability for their person, rather than an asset. They did, ultimately, find the child. He hadn¡¯t even gotten very far from the walls before he got tired and hungry, but he was lost and wandering in circles. No one had an explanation for it, but those five ouranosaurs were so angry and destructive that the Ranger team had no choice but to kill them. It was always weird when herbivores started killing anything they saw, but they were large enough that they were a problem. The actual culling was easy enough. Leoios distracted the rest of the dinosaurs, while the team handled them one at a time. Republius and Hail coordinated to slow and bind their target. Penticus got in its face and held its attention in a straight fight, protected by two shields. Ranthia and Mettlea struck from behind while Secundia attacked the side. Steamguy was on standby in case Leoios lost control of one of the ones he was distracting. Methodically, they dismantled the beasts and ended the threat they posed. Another small town saved from another threat! Ranthia was mostly distracted because the fight finally got her [Warrior] class above her [Mage] class in level. Almost the instant the all clear was given, Ranthia bolted for the wagon before anyone else could react. Her cute little metal mirror was in her chest somewhere¡­ At last she pulled it out and checked her own reflection. The reflective sheen was gone from her eyes, as she had expected. She had somewhat dreaded the effect that Void would have on her eyes¡ªshe was all too familiar with it from her interactions with Hunting. And sure enough, the dark brown of her eyes was adrift in a sea of black. The whites of her eyes had turned solid black and¡­ Honestly, she didn¡¯t hate the effect. It would take a bit of getting used to¡ªand it was unusual enough that random people were sure to be obnoxious about it¡ªbut tentatively, she liked it. At the very least [Sexy] didn¡¯t complain. Ranthia smiled to herself, then stepped out of the wagon to show her team. ¡­Not that any of them noticed, until Secundia finally went ¡°Hey, something¡¯s different¡± over dinner (ouranosaurus wasn¡¯t half bad, actually) that night. Honestly, she was [Warrior] tagged now¡ªhow had it taken so long for anyone to notice?! They finally had horses again. Penticus was relieved to be forever freed from wagon mule duties¡ªnot even Mettlea could do it for as long as he could¡ªbut the new pair of mares seemed to have a top speed somewhere just below ¡®sleepy child¡¯. The horses would be replaced, no doubt, but until then they were actively falling behind again. They had just gotten back on schedule! The next town was close (close in that Ranthia had traveled between its gates and the wagon six times already as part of her ever-wider scouting patterns; she suspected the horses would get the wagon there sometime before she turned eighty). Honestly, she was getting more than a little bored as she explored more and more spartan woodland. The area was fairly rocky and thick trees just weren¡¯t a thing, visibility was hindered mostly just by scraggy, prickly bushes. Ranthia found a small thicket of bamboo, likely a relic of some failed prior attempt to tame a slice of the area and had a brief bit of fun trying to get through it at full speed. At least until she came to a sudden, absolute halt. It was easy to take her vitality for granted. She was closing in on four thousand vitality. Vitality enhanced the body in numerous ways, including her senses. And¡­ yes, she was perfectly willing to admit that Hunting¡¯s stupid blindfold had helped her refine her awareness of the world (even if she still resented being gifted it¡ªHunting had somehow had the blindfold along with a scroll devoted to a tiny note that simply read ¡°Do well, don¡¯t join the war¡± snuck inside of her chest before they left Ariminum). Which was a long mental aside to distract herself from the fact that she was staring straight at an ornithocheirus nest. She had barely two arm lengths worth of bamboo left before the clearing in front of the rocky raised area the beasts were nested upon. Another moment or two of play amidst the bamboo and she would have been spotted. Ranthia seized her panic and buried it deep. The beasts were terrifying. That was valid. But this was a weirdly small swarm. They were at rest, squatting on their crude nests. There was a wealth of eggs on display too. Her terror warred with her former Adventurer greed (that would be¡­ er, would have been a nice potential payday if she had the right team) and her Ranger-y sense of duty (the flock was small, but they were within a half day¡¯s average travel of the town). Professionalism won, though she wasn¡¯t quite sure if it was her inner Adventurer or her Ranger mask that she slipped into. Either way she slowly and stealthily withdrew (thank you, Xaoc, for [Steps into the Void]) a safe distance before she rushed back for the wagon. ¡°We¡¯ve got a major problem!¡± Ranthia called out as soon as she was mostly certain she was within earshot. The Rangers had gathered inside the wagon by the time she reached it and leapt inside. ¡°Report.¡± Leoios ordered, almost the instant her feet touched down. ¡°There¡¯s an ornithocheirus nest, half a day out from the next town. Given the proximity, no doubt they¡¯ve been raiding it. Nest seems somewhat new, but there are a lot of eggs. Unclear if they¡¯re a group separated from a larger flock or just survivors that lost their former nesting ground. Shouldn¡¯t be any here, at any rate. Less than five dozen individuals currently but couldn¡¯t get a hard number.¡± Ranthia rattled off before she accepted a waterskin and gratefully drank from it. Leoios frowned. ¡°Okay, gear up and prepare yourselves. We¡¯ll have to cull them. Draw mana from the wagon if you¡¯re not at full.¡± Their leader announced. The eight of them began their individual preparations with practiced precision. They had come far enough along as a team that they didn¡¯t even trip over one another anymore while they put on their armor, readied their weapons, and checked their gear. The operation was dangerous. It was made worse by the fact that they had no [Healer] and the next town was probably too small to have a [Healer] that could do major restorations. Leoios dictated a plan that was¡ªideally¡ªmeant to minimize risk. Hail was to expend his mana to try to keep ice in the air across as large an area as he could (Ranthia had, somewhat grudgingly, lent him her Adventurer¡¯s bracers so he had more arcanite). If they were lucky, it would help to ground the majority of the flock. Ranthia volunteered to go among the swarm¡ªagainst her better judgment¡ªand deal with the landbound beasts. Leoios seemed to hate signing off on it, but it improved their odds. Leoios and Republius were going to perch with their bows and shoot down any of the beasts that managed to get into the sky. Pibius was their ace in the hole; he was confident that he could set up a blast large enough to erase the grounded targets with a bit of time. The rest of the group were assigned to protect Hail and Steamguy. The signal went up, and Ranthia cheated mercilessly on her restrictions. A mirror image of her ran out of the bamboo and she shifted to it a moment later. She wasn¡¯t stupid enough to risk her own body, not with murderbeasts and Steamguy. Pibius had already knelt, using his Earth abilities to form a tiny tunnel to funnel his Steam to the big rocky tumor that would spout out of the ground amidst the ornithocheirus¡­ eventually. Hail was already filling the sky with floating shards of ice and snow, even as the temperature began to drop. And then Ranthia was among the murderbeasts. She was loaded down with knives, ready to expend them while she carved her way through the (mostly) grounded swarm. Anything that took to the air could be ignored. Her focus was on the snapping beasts around her. Fortunately, they were far less deadly when they were unable to divebomb her. Bites hurt, but they didn¡¯t erase armor and flesh like the incredible and self-destructive divebombs did. And pain was an old friend she was well acquainted with. Ranthia danced through the grounded swarm, slaughtering beasts in their own nests. A small slice of eternity coalesced into a single deadly dance. But Ranthia wasn¡¯t willing¡ªor able¡ªto sink her awareness entirely into the dance. Once rock began to slowly bloom and expand out of the ground, she began to channel. The strain was familiar and didn¡¯t slow her down at all, not for dancing. Dancing came naturally and effortlessly to her; it was infinitely easier on her mind than directly manipulating multiple mirror images was. Naturally, shortly after the thought came to mind, she was forced to use two images, sent out one after another, to separate a large group of the beasts to give herself more room to operate. And then the call finally came for her to get clear. Ranthia made a show of lunging clear and shouting for him to let loose, but in truth she simply released her channel and shifted back to her body immediately. Her call had been made through [Echoes Reflected], which was why she had sounded closer to Amaus than her own voice (that Skill¡­). The blast came two heartbeats after she put out the call. The ice that Hail had put out was mostly gone by the time Pibius was ready, and his Steam-empowered blast rattled them all despite their distance. In the aftermath, the entire flock had been shredded. There wasn¡¯t a single survivor for them to finish off. Every egg had been smashed, and the immediate vicinity of where the rock had been was just a sea of red paste. ¡­Which explained a lot about why Steamguy¡ªPibius¡ªwas so rarely allowed to use his magic ¡®properly¡¯. Of course his levels languished; the man erased everything within range! The obnoxious thing was she couldn¡¯t even say he was ill-suited to teamwork; he needed a team to cover him while he built up such a slow-to-fire skill. He just was a final option, one that was suited to few situations. And, grudgingly, yes, one that was probably invaluable in those rare circumstances. They finally rolled into town. The gates should have closed already, but for Rangers the town guards were willing to keep the gates open a little longer. Especially when Ranthia ran ahead and told them that their ornithocheirus problems had been resolved. The town was small enough that there was no [Healer] to screen them and the guards just said ¡°you¡¯re probably all out of mana from taking care of our problem¡± and waved them through. Which meant Ranthia had a narrow window of opportunity. ¡°Sir, requesting permission to get a tavern room. I¡¯m ready to class up my [Warrior] class!¡± Ranthia announced before the man could start assigning tasks, duties, and sleeping arrangements. She was still a bit surprised when he nodded immediately. ¡°Granted. I¡¯ll accompany you to handle the lodging arrangements. I do not believe you will require a protection detail since the town should be friendly to us. If your class up runs long, you¡¯re familiar with our pending route.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question, but Ranthia still nodded her agreement. Maps and roads were easy to remember. She had no idea what the next stop¡¯s name was, but she knew how to get there. And the one after that, just in case. ¡°Excellent. With me, then. The rest of you, negotiate with the local guard for a berth for our wagon and stabling the horses.¡± Leoios ordered before he hopped out of the still-moving wagon. Ranthia rushed to follow, as she allowed her mind to indulge in her excitement. It was finally time for her first level 256 class up! For much of her life she had assumed this one and her Mirror class¡¯s would be her final class ups. But Hunting and the rest had given her a taste of the truth. This was just a foundation for her journey to truly flourish from. If 512 was so readily within reach for the Sentinels¡­ well, her level 768 class up couldn¡¯t possibly be beyond reason. Book 1 - Chapter 43 - She who Dances with Chaos Ranthia had her room at the tavern and¡ªat Leoios¡¯ insistence¡ªa full belly. The door was barred. The bed was, well, acceptable. Ranthia rested her head on Hexara¡¯s pillow that she¡¯d retrieved from her chest and breathed in her beloved¡¯s scent. Her mind started to wander and¡­ Aaand that was enough mental side-tracking. She had more important things to do than that! Ranthia shook herself off, took a deep breath, and triggered the class up for her second class. As always, inside her own existence, she stepped through the door that closed behind her. Her current classes had taken the form of short swords sheathed at her sides. Her guide, a reflection of herself, now closer than ever to her current age (she was what, two, maybe three years older than Ranthia was now?), stood behind the counter. They bowed to one another in greeting, just as Ranthia had always felt most comfortable doing ever since the day she became Ranthia. And then she drew her short sword that represented [Blade Dancer] and set it on the counter. ¡­Only to immediately get distracted by the first substantive difference in the layout of the temple armory within herself that she had ever seen in all of her class-ups. There were always small differences. Chaos was an intrinsic part of her, after all. The storage plan for the short swords that represented potential classes she could access changed around every time she classed up. They were always a perplexing storage solution that defied the concept of order (and sometimes the concepts of sense and reason too), but there were practically unlimited permutations for chaos. And yet. ¡°What in Xaoc¡¯s name is that about?¡± Ranthia demanded. Yet there had never been another door next to the counter. Let alone a massive one. ¡­She was mostly certain, at least. Recollections of the realm within could be strange. ¡°That would be the class you will be taking.¡± Her guide replied. Ranthia¡¯s focus had always been narrow. Rather than looking at dozens of classes to decide which to take, she always¡ªalways¡ªhad a direct focus to aim for. This left her with few, if any, options to choose from since her best path forward was always clear to her¡ªand thus it was to her guide. ¡°¡­Okay? Um?¡± Ranthia had a brief mental image of trying to shove a massive door into her scabbard. ¡°It is a door. You open and step through them.¡± Her guide deadpanned. Ranthia colored slightly and flipped her guide¡ªherself¡ªoff while she examined the sign next to the door. [She who Dances with Chaos] was engraved on a sheet of jet, the etchings filled in with silver. It had to be the class name (and the jet that represented Void was obvious), but there was nothing that could possibly indicate the color of the class. Ranthia glanced at her¡ªimpatient¡ªguide and shrugged before she pushed the massive door open. It should have weighed a ton and required significant force (worsened by her lack of her System-imbued stats in the world within), yet the door slid open with ease. On the other side of the door was a massive temple. Ranthia¡¯s eyes adjusted in an instant to the dimmer light, yet they were drawn to the center of the temple, where a truly colossal statue of Xaoc towered over everything. The statue hurt to look at directly, and she had a very funny feeling that the damned thing was actually an exact representation of Him, taken from the memories that she was mercifully unable to recall. Xaoc damn the [Paladin] that she once was! Automatically and reverently, she moved to the statue and knelt to pray. There were eight other representations of herself praying around it in their own ways, but she ignored them for the moment. She closed her eyes and prayed to her god from this temple within own inner self. Blatant reminders of old blasphemies aside, she was strangely proud of herself for having such a thing in her world within. It suited her. The world within was a temple, so of course she had a proper altar grander than anything she found even within Ariminum! If only she had the resources to construct such a facility in Pallos¡­! Ranthia concluded her prayers¡ªand her distractions¡ªand opened her eyes to find her guide knelt next to her, still deep in prayer. Ranthia smiled fondly at the woman (herself, whatever) and rose to offer a final bow to the grand statue before she explored the area. Everything was so strange, but it was also strangely intuitive. The knowledge of how to use everything that she laid eyes on came to her immediately. The real question was if this was just that the System¡ªor however class-ups worked¡ªprovided instructions innately, or if this was the work of her strange chaotic knowledge that she was reborn with. Though, somehow, she doubted it was chaos-granted knowledge, especially since she had no idea the System could even do a class up like this. Because¡­ it sure looked like she was getting an opportunity to build and customize her class!? There was the great statue of Xaoc, the source of chaotic potential. She had connected herself to it by praying, accidentally accomplishing the first step in the process without even knowing it. This meant that she could absorb chaotic potential from it and redistribute the potential to the smaller statues of Xaoc scattered throughout the¡­ absurdly massive room. Many of them already contained some chaotic potential, the inherited potential from [Blade Dancer], but others felt empty. A few felt dead, as if they were beyond her reach. The other eight representations of herself¡ªnot counting her guide¡ªembodied each of her stats for the class. The one with the body builder¡¯s physique was strength, while the one that carefully worked fine tools to make a little carving of Xaoc was dexterity, and so forth. None of them danced, which bothered her for some reason. The great statue of Xaoc also held a hilariously tiny little hammer in one hand and a strangely hollow and see-through short sword in another. That would be her class, once she finished. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s get started.¡± Ranthia whispered to herself, not wanting to disrupt her guide¡¯s prayers. Each of the smaller statues in the chamber, some larger than others, represented possible skills. She started with the ones she sensed little, if any, chaotic energy from. [The Song of Chaos]: You will begin to hear the great beat of chaos. You will be able to turn your body over to this beat and it will operate automatically until its work is done. ¡°¡­Wait, so this ability would take control of my body from me and act according to some rhythm?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Yes.¡± Her guide replied. Godsdamnit! Ranthia glared balefully at the woman after she recovered from her fright at the guide¡¯s sudden appearance at her side. She hadn¡¯t even heard her approach! Ranthia hesitated once she recovered, then ripped the trace amounts of chaotic potential from the statue. Admittedly, she did sometimes embrace a rhythm while she fought when she needed to free herself to think, but there was a stark difference between giving herself over to a complex pattern of her own design and throwing herself to the mercy of some sort of music only she would be able to hear¡­ and possibly unable to fully tune out. ¡°Feels orderly to move to a song anyway.¡± Ranthia grumbled and dismissed the statue from the room. ¡°Ah, but does it feel orderly only because of your disinterest in it?¡± Her guide asked. Ranthia flipped off her guide¡ªherself¡ªand moved on. She had no interest in getting into a philosophical debate. ¡­Especially since she would inevitably lose. [Critical Strike]¡¯s statue barely had more chaos than the first statue. No wonder it had been so lackluster. She would give more to it, she promised herself. If it stayed. Oddly, only five statues seemed to represent her current eight skills. [Void Affinity]¡¯s statue was a small one¡ªpractically a standard altar that could be found at numerous temples¡ªbut she sensed she would need great swaths of chaotic potential to upgrade it. That was fine, she had no urgent need to add more. There was already some potential for its natural growth into [Void Authority]. She left that alone. The statue for [The Flow of Battle] was the same statue that held [A Void Dance] and [Steps into the Void]. They were each represented on three different aspects to the same statue. Which meant there was the potential for them to be unified into a single skill she couldn¡¯t quite make out the name of. [Void Edge] had its own statue, of course. One that was sharp and angular. She spent a moment confused until she realized [Cross Strike] was also in [Critical Strike]¡¯s statue, just bizarrely from the opposite side of the statue. But that meant they too could be merged. The statue for [Strengthen Blade] was there too, but with a sigh she decided to pull the chaotic potential out of it. There had been quite a bit, but it needed a substantial amount more to give her weaponry any real resilience to her Void. It was nowhere near worth the expenditure just to give her the ability to keep the same knives. Unfortunately, it was easy enough to go through them in bulk. She dismissed the statue once she was done. Two statues removed. Many more to examine. [Hands of the Void], the skill she had rejected in the Academy, was a part of a statue meant to expand the weaponry she could apply her void energy and skills to. Spears, swords, and even bows were buried within that potential. She shrugged with disinterest and ripped the bit of chaotic potential out of that statue and dismissed it. Her Mirror class gave her what she needed to make knives viable, in the long run. She had never truly put much thought into switching to a different weapon, but at some point she had realized that she didn¡¯t want to. With the potential stifled, all of her weapon-dependent skills would truly apply to knives and only knives. Another statue promised to give her a [Costume of the Void], a defense that she could activate to cover her torso in void energy. It would devastate whatever she was wearing but¡­ ¡°Oh, wait, this would kill me in a heartbeat. No [Void Resistance].¡± Ranthia realized. ¡°There is a statue for that skill as well over there.¡± Her guide pointed out. No chaotic potential resided in either. Ranthia dismissed both. ¡°No reason to waste potential developing skills outside what I use the class for.¡± She reasoned. Instead, Ranthia moved between statues until she found what she was looking for. [Void-Kissed Wrappings] was the name of it, a skill with only scant traces of chaos. An armor skill. Gleefully, Ranthia bowed before it and began to transfer chaotic potential into it. The chaos built within the statue. ¡­And yet the skill remained beyond her reach. More and more chaos was taken, until at last the skill became acquirable. [Void-Kissed Wrappings]: Your armor and clothing has been touched by the Void and is now entwined with you. 1% of your current vitality is extended to anything you wear, but weaponry is excluded. 0.005% additional current vitality is added per level. Ranthia stared at it in utter disgust. ¡°Why?!¡± She snarled at the statue. ¡°This isn¡¯t something the class wants to do, it¡¯s something you want it to do. The System acknowledges this, but it¡¯s not going to make things smooth or easy. You¡¯ll need to use a lot of potential to force the skill into existence now.¡± Her guide answered. Ranthia was about to rip the chaotic potential out of the statue when she paused, considering. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying the skill might exist someday, if I leave the seeds in place? But I can only force an inferior version at the moment?¡± It made a certain amount of sense. Her guide nodded. Ranthia pulled out most of the chaotic potential she had imbued into the skill. It still had far more than it had started with, but the skill had dimmed beyond her immediate use. She hoped that would provide a fertile foundation for it to grow from¡ªand hopefully make it suck significantly less. Many of the statues were of no interest. There was even a bizarre statue for adding Void energy into her blood for some unholy reason. She couldn¡¯t even think of a valid use case for that. It wouldn¡¯t be powerful enough to destroy anything that stabbed her or anything. It would only really be damaging if someone tried to hold a large amount of her blood for a long time or if she felt like bleeding herself to force-feed someone her own blood like a poison. Plus, of course, there was the fact that the Void would eat through her own body. Let alone the added logistical problems to certain other monthly issues. Strong pass. One of the dead statues hurt to see. [The Hand of Chaos] would have made her a [Paladin] in function, if not in name. It wouldn¡¯t have made the class a divine class, but it would have been the next best thing. Unfortunately, Xaoc¡¯s rejection of her as a [Paladin] was so absolute it seemed to have rendered this potential inert as well. Ranthia reminded herself that she was a tool for Him if He needed her. If He ever had a task for her, all He had to do was ask. She would always serve. She didn¡¯t need to be [The Hand of Chaos] or a [Paladin] to bring chaos to Pallos or serve Him. One by one statues disappeared. Some had been interesting, until she remembered her build. [Blade Dancer] hadn¡¯t been a tool, it had been a passion. Skills that had utility but defied her wish to dance were easy to reject. At length she was in a somewhat smaller temple with only the statues that she was considering. She hadn¡¯t even noticed that the room shrank each time she removed a statue, not until she stepped back and reviewed everything again. Now instead of a grand temple it felt more like a holy tower. She moved to the first of the ¡®new¡¯ statues that had little to no chaotic potential. It was one that her guide seemed shocked that she kept. But not only would it help out a ton while she was unable to make full use of her Mirror class, it promised to be a boon to have when she dealt with large crowds of foes. [Sustained Chaos]. Currently [Void Edge], [Cross Strike], and (somehow) to a certain extent [Critical Strike] ceased to affect a knife from the instant it left her hand. This skill would allow her to bind her skills to the knives. Or, put more plainly, it would let her throw knives and still imbue them with her skills.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. She was pretty sure she would keep it, no matter how surprised her guide was. It didn¡¯t have much chaotic potential in it, but it didn¡¯t require a sea of it like the armor skill had. [Vision of the Void] was something she hadn¡¯t expected but had fallen in love with when she saw it. The skill would allow her to see through certain obstacles. At first it would only help her see through smoke or mists, but as it leveled she would be able to see through clothing or even walls. ¡­She didn¡¯t want the skill for lurid reasons, of course; she wanted it to find concealed weaponry on potential threats and see dangers that she might otherwise miss. She would be able to see ambushes before they happened: it would help keep her alive! She could even envision a future where it might absorb or merge with [Combat Awareness] too. Also, with a bit more chaotic potential it could be upgraded to give her night vision, which was always useful. It wasn¡¯t something she would for certain keep, but she felt inexorably drawn to the potential it represented. [Repulse the Unworthy] was another interesting option. It would allow her to generate a brief-lived ¡®flash¡¯ of Void energy that she could use to drive things back to get space to dance or evade. With enough chaotic potential it could even become a barrier skill that she could use to catch ranged attacks that she was unable to avoid otherwise. Admittedly, it was more on the ¡°would be nice to have¡± end of the spectrum. The use cases were strong, but it didn¡¯t feel like an essential component of her build. Still, it was worth keeping around as an option. Three out of a sea of potential new skills. With those selected, she turned her attention back to her current skills. It was really easy to get greedy with skills, but after she had a feel for how much chaotic potential she had, she felt like she could reserve enough for about 400 stat points at the very least. Ranthia ran back and forth across her temple¡ªer, tower¡ªas she worked. She knelt properly before each altar for their respective statue and actually prayed to Xaoc to transfer some of the chaotic potential. Some statues positively wiggled with chaos, while others flickered more dimly. Often Ranthia was forced to remove some from one and transfer it to another, as she reassessed the depths of the available chaos. While the grand statue of Xaoc held truly limitless chaotic potential, she was a single devotee out of countless worshipers; she was only entitled to access a certain share of His chaos. Her piety was doing some serious battling with her greed though. Because part of her still daydreamt about what it would be like to fully empower each of her chosen statues and come out with thousands of stats. Quality ranges went all the way up to black, after all! Oh, if only. But sadly, she was still just a single mortal Adventurer¡ªer, Ranger¡ªand she wasn¡¯t allowed to be quite that ridiculous. ¡°Why do I get the feeling that if I got to do this with my Mirror class, there would just be one statue?¡± She mused to herself while she worked. ¡°It almost certainly is. It¡¯s doubtful that there would even be other statues, aside from your Spirit skill¡ªwhich is already as high as it goes, at least as far as we know.¡± Her guide answered the rhetorical question. Ranthia was currently chasing the manifestation of herself that represented her speed stat. It ¡®prayed¡¯ by¡­ running around like a lunatic. How that was prayer¡ªhow she felt it was prayer¡ªwas beyond her; she was pretty sure she¡¯d deck anyone she saw doing that in front of a real altar to Xaoc. The world within could be weird, it seemed. Still, she needed to catch it, again. ¡°Heh, too bad we¡¯re just mortals. Can you imagine if Xaoc had reincarnated me as an elf? An Immortal that could someday reach even the level 3584 class up¡­¡± Ranthia sighed with desire once she finally lunged and snared her speedy self. Then she noticed her guide giving her serious side-eye. ¡°What?¡± She asked. It was a valid line of thought! ¡°Seriously?¡± Her guide demanded. ¡°For the last time, I¡¯m not trying to cop a feel on myself! She just keeps running unless I pick her up.¡± Ranthia snapped while she wrestled with the stupid embodiment that was still kicking her legs at a brisk run. ¡°You could have just willed them to hold still.¡± Ranthia blinked several times. Her face burned, as the obvious sank into her. She knew without a doubt that her guide was absolutely correct! ¡°You could have said that sooner!¡± Ranthia whined, as she willed the speed stat to stop moving and set it back down. Now the older version of herself had nothing to say. Typical. ¡°¡­Anyway, I think I¡¯m done. But I want to go over everything one last time, just to be sure.¡± Ranthia grumbled. ¡°Are you sure about your stat distribution? At this point your Void class probably needs the mana, mana regeneration, and magic control more than your Mirror class does.¡± Her guide pointed out. ¡°Ugh, yes! I know, but I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s a safe bet that my [Mage] class will get decent magic stats. It¡¯s not a [Warrior] class like this one, I need to prioritize its needs for the dance at this stage. I¡¯ll be able to class up [Shards of Reflection] once I get more levels in [Blade Da¡ª er, [She who Dances with Chaos].¡± Ranthia explained. Why were class and skill names so easy for her to memorize while people names were almost impossible to get in her head? Ranthia walked through the temple while she carefully reviewed her choices and allocations. There was a small temptation to tweak a few things, but she resisted it. She knew that if she did, she would just get stuck in another round of edits until she ultimately just put them back to how they were now. She had repeated that process plenty of times already! [Repulse the Unworthy] hadn¡¯t made the cut in the end. She put a little potential into it (very little) to preserve it for future class ups, but in the end¡­ it was hard to justify its relative cost. In theory [Reflections of Reality] handled almost every scenario she¡¯d use [Repulse the Unworthy] in. [Repulse] was more mana efficient¡ªprobably¡ªbut it felt like a short-term investment at best in its current form. Besides, she had found a much better investment hidden within one of her current skill statues. Even if it had forced her to drop her stats and reshuffle things to accommodate its expense. Ranthia walked back to the great statue of Xaoc and bowed before it. ¡°Xaoc, I thank you with all of my being for this opportunity. ¡®I was and forever shall be your Paladin and herald¡¯ as my Covenant swears. Now, I shall be [She who Dances with Chaos] in your name, for your glory. May chaos reign!¡± Ranthia declared. Fueled by her words, the great statue swung its comically tiny hammer down and struck the incomplete short sword. With the small impact, a great boom thundered through the tower. Ranthia and her guide dropped to their knees and cupped their hands desperately over their ears in sheer agony. Can you go deaf inside your own inner self!? An instant later, the noise was gone, as if it never existed. Had it been real, the sound would have continued to echo for far longer. The short sword¡ªnow complete with a hilt wrapped in the vibrant green that was just a bit too vivid to be a common sight in nature¡ªrose slowly from the hand of the statue of Xaoc, held aloft by an unknowable power. The blade floated through the air until it was directly above Ranthia¡¯s head. Then the power released it, and the blade dropped. Point-first. Ranthia sprang to her feet with a twirl and caught the sword by its hilt. In that instant the rhythms of every dance she had ever performed sang through the core of her being. Ranthia followed through and indulged in the urge; she just danced for a time with the sword, reveling in the motions. Her classes and her Skills were beyond her reach while she remained within herself, but she still had extensive practice with the art of dance. The moves were still a core part of her, even without the bolstering effects that the System provided. Her guide clapped once she finished, which helped to snap her out of her reverie. ¡°I think we¡¯re done.¡± She smiled, broadly. ¡°You¡¯re still not going to upgrade your [Mage] class yet?¡± Her guide asked. ¡°No, I want to wait. I need to get this class leveled higher so I¡¯m not constantly switching which class is in the lead, especially if I ever hope to step beyond Remus¡¯ borders. But thank you for everything, this has been a wonderful experience!¡± Ranthia was in a genuinely bubbly mood. ¡°Please do not try to kiss me.¡± Her guide replied, deadpan. Ranthia just grinned and flipped her guide¡ªstill herself¡ªoff playfully. Then, with a final bow to the grand statue of Xaoc, Ranthia turned for the normal temple armory. Her new blade was sheathed as her second class. And for the first time the blade had more weight than that of her first class. Her Mirror [Mage] class would always be precious to her. It was the class that she dreamt up and fought to make real. It was the class that kept her alive when her back was to the wall. And it had clearly been blessed by Xaoc Himself. But it felt right for her Void [Warrior] class to shine brightest. It was a celebration of her soul; it embodied her in a way that her first class never could. With a smile on her face, Ranthia made her way to the exit. [She who Dances with Chaos]. You have danced in the legendary Fausteo¡¯s Musical Theater. You have danced for those you love. You have danced for Xaoc, an emperor, guildmasters, Sentinels, and even the fae. You have danced your way through skirmishes across Remus. And throughout every dance you carried chaos in your heart with absolute devotion. Now become the chaos that dances throughout Pallos. +100 Strength, +100 Dexterity, +100 Vitality, +100 Speed, +8 Mana, +8 Mana Regeneration, +5 Magic Power, +5 Magic Control. [*ding!* Congratulations! You¡¯ve upgraded your second class ¨C [She who Dances with Chaos ¨C Void]!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [She who Dances with Chaos] has leveled up from 256 to level 260! Per level: +100 Strength, +100 Dexterity, +100 Vitality, +100 Speed, +8 Mana, +8 Mana Regeneration, +5 Magic Power, +5 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +2 Mana from your element.] [*ding!* Your skill [Void Affinity] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] [*ding!* Your skills [The Flow of Battle], [A Void Dance], and [Steps into the Void] have evolved into [Rhythmic Grace]!] So [The Flow of Battle] evolved and [A Void Dance] and [Steps into the Void] merged in. It was good to see that her tweak to make those three notifications collapse into one had worked. [Rhythmic Grace]: Those who fight relying on the stagnation of order can never hope to touch you as you see through their patterns. Those who fight with chaos can never hope to match your own. All that exists creates a certain rhythm, and now you see how to move with the beat. Dance through untouched, unbothered, and possibly even undetected. Use your momentum and your own tempo to bring chaos and cut away the sour rhythms that must be excised from the world. -2560 Mana Regen Rate. [*ding!* [Rhythmic Grace] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] [*ding!* [Void Edge] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] [*ding!* Your skill [Critical Strike] has evolved into [Flowing Momentum]!] [Flowing Momentum]: Every cut is but a single motion, a single moment found within truly endless momentum. Your grace and your rhythm will guide your blade where it truly needs to go so you may continue to move. -1024 Mana Regen Rate while in combat. [*ding!* [Flowing Momentum] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] [*ding!* Notice ¨C [Strengthen Blade] has been lost.] [*ding!* Your skill [Cross Strike] has evolved into [Echoes of Devastation]!] [Echoes of Devastation]: Why should a cut only strike once? Your rhythm is greater than that. Each time you strike a blow, allow the echoes left in the wake of your grand dance to strike the same point with a portion of your own momentum. The power of the momentum of your echoes and the number of echoes increase with level. [*ding!* [Echoes of Devastation] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] [*ding!* You¡¯ve unlocked the Class Skill [Vision of the Void]!] [Vision of the Void]: Your eyes have been touched by the blessings of the Void. Your sight is no longer reliant on the narrow band of visible light, instead you shall see all that the Void touches. Gaze through the Void to see past obstacles. The density of what you may see through increases with level. May be able to pierce through certain types of illusions and other veils; the likelihood increases with level. -1611 Mana Regen Rate while your eyes remain open. [*ding!* You¡¯ve unlocked the Class Skill [Sustained Chaos]!] [Sustained Chaos]: Empower your knives to carry the Skills that you possess within them for a time. Maximum range, duration, and the percentage of your power that they can carry increase with level. [*ding!* Your skill [The Art of the Dance] has partially evolved into [True Grace]!] [True Grace]: No dancer who has headlined one of the greatest performances ever staged within Fausteo¡¯s Musical Theater can be bested by any being when you perform at your best. Your body¡¯s structure will gradually be modified to idealize your dancing capabilities. Your graceful movements increase the effectiveness of all skills while you dance by 1%. Each level further increases the effectiveness of your skills by an additional 0.01%. -4237 Mana Regen Rate while dancing. [*ding!* [Divine-Touched Identify] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] [*ding!* [Ranger¡¯s Lore] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] [*ding!* [Combat Awareness] has leveled from 256 to level 260!] Ranthia smiled broadly as she opened her eyes. It. Had. Worked! [True Grace] had been a real shot in the dark to see if it would unlock, it was part of [Rhythmic Grace]¡¯s statue where it took the form of a distant divine crown. It had required a ton of chaotic potential to form. She¡¯d been forced to keep the link between [Flowing Momentum] and [Echoes of Devastation] weak, dropped a tier in class quality, and basically murdered [Repulse the Unworthy] to get enough potential. And even then there was a real chance that she wouldn¡¯t get a separate skill for it; neither she nor her guide had been certain she¡¯d get any current benefits from the expenditure. There had been a real chance that she was just paving the way for a future upgrade for [Rhythmic Grace]. But it had worked! Okay, admittedly losing every last level of [The Art of the Dance] was¡­ less than ideal, and she wasn¡¯t sure why it was only a partial evolution, but levels could be regained. [True Grace] was arguably a more important cornerstone skill for [She who Dances with Chaos] than even [Rhythmic Grace]. Which was a bit unfair since they were two sides to the same potential skill (hence the obviously related names), but [True Grace] would shape her future in a huge way. The bit about modifying her body¡¯s structure was more than a little freaky and wasn¡¯t quite what she was expecting, but when she looked at her body it seemed normal. [Vision of the Void] clearly wasn¡¯t high enough in level to see through her leather armor, but she thought maybe some of the cloth looked slightly see-through-ish? Which could easily be a trick of her memory. She sat up slowly, keenly aware that her stats had spiked again. Oddly though, it didn¡¯t feel quite as devastatingly different as her [Blade Dancer] class-up had been. She suspected that [Rhythmic Grace] and [True Grace] were helping her adapt, though it could have just been the difference in her stat tiers at the time of each class up. Her back did pop though when she was finally upright, which made her wince. She was sore. Why did she feel so sore? Ranthia partially stuffed the pillow into one of her pouches as best she could and ensured that nothing had fallen out of her belt while it was wrapped around her arm before she put it back on. Once she had it secure and confirmed that her Ranger badge was still in place, she opened the door and went downstairs. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you. You¡¯re still alive, good. A dead Ranger¡¯s bad for business. You¡¯re still paid up so¡ªBy all the gods¡¯ asses, if that ain¡¯t the most unnerving sight I¡¯ve ever seen!¡± The drowsy tavern owner rather abruptly became much, much less drowsy. And his face had turned pale. ¡°¡­What?¡± Ranthia asked, checking herself over again; complete with a quick pat down. Had [True Grace] made her an obvious freak in some way? ¡°Those damned eyes of yours!¡±
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 21]
[Mana: 27500/27500]
[Mana Regen Rate: 1000]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 1098]
[Strength: 2316]
[Dexterity: 5252]
[Vitality: 4289]
[Speed: 3889]
[Mana: 2750]
[Mana Regeneration: 3004]
[Magic Power: 2072]
[Magic Control: 1989]
[Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (256)] + ]
[Mirror Spirit: 256]
[Scattered Reflections: 256]
[Echoes Reflected: 119]
[Reflective Motility: 248]
[Persistent Imagery: 256]
[Mirrored Moves: 63]
[Distorted Likeness: 88]
[Reflections of Reality: 63]
[Class 2: [She who Dances with Chaos ¨C Void (260)]]
[Void Affinity: 260]
[Rhythmic Grace: 260]
[Void Edge: 260]
[Flowing Momentum: 260]
[Vision of the Void: 1]
[Sustained Chaos: 1]
[Echoes of Devastation: 260]
[True Grace: 1]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Divine-Touched Identify: 260]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 65]
[Ranger¡¯s Lore: 260]
-
[Combat Awareness: 260]
[Fast Learner: 209]
[Image Recall: 172]
[Sexy: 210]
Book 1 - Chapter 44 - Vision of Her Dreams There had been a cheap polished metal mirror in the room she¡¯d had. Ranthia fled back upstairs before the tavern owner could say anything else. She was scrambling, but, somehow, she still moved lightly and smoothly thanks to her [Warrior] class bolstering her dexterity. She had to see. She. Had. To. See. She reached the room. The mirror was¡­ there! ¡­She waited. She knew, just knew, what notification she was about to get. There was no way the System was going to let her keep it. She braced herself for [Sexy] to be taken away. ¡­ Nothing came. Ranthia took a deep breath once she accepted that the System wasn¡¯t going to strip her beloved vanity skill from her. She still felt shaky¡ªon the inside, at least¡ªbut she slowly moved closer to the mirror and forced herself to look. To really, really look deeply at what she had become. Before she got the Mirror element in her first class, her eyes had been a shade of dark brown that she always liked. The Mirror element had given her eyes a polished, almost glittering effect that she grew to admire. Especially once she saw Hexara¡¯s gorgeous eyes with the exact same elemental effect. Giving up on matching the woman she loved was one of the hardest aspects about making her [Warrior] class her lead class. When [Blade Dancer] took the level lead her eyes had changed. Her dark brown eyes were still there, but the whites of her eyes had been replaced by a sea of darkness. The effect was unfamiliar, but she¡¯d talked herself into liking it. There was a certain cool mysticalness to it, but at the end of the day they had still been her eyes. But now¡­ The whites of her eyes were still replaced by the same deep obsidian hue. It was hard to make herself pay attention to it but she thought it might have looked slightly more ¡®in motion¡¯ than it used to? Like a whirling, impenetrable darkness. Maybe she just hadn¡¯t looked closely before and that was how it had been since Void touched her eyes instead of Mirror. But she was distracting herself from the worst part of the change. [Vision of the Void] had taken her eyes. Where the familiar dark brown had once been, it felt like there was just a hole in her eyeballs. Twin clear pits that reminded her intensely of the void she had once trapped herself within back when she acquired [Distorted Likeness]. It made it extremely difficult to focus on the strange ¡®gap¡¯ in her eyes¡ªshe wanted nothing more than to recoil away from them. She didn¡¯t look like a [Sexy] woman anymore, she looked like a monster hidden within human skin. Ranthia choked back the sob that threatened to escape her and closed her eyes. She¡¯d adapt¡­ probably. For now, she needed to compose herself and find her team. She had a job to do. ¡°What do you mean they left?¡± Ranthia demanded. She had recovered, she had cleaned herself up, and she went downstairs to get more bad news, it seemed. The tavernkeeper snorted, very transparently looking elsewhere as he actively avoided seeing her face¡ªwhich definitely was helping her increasingly sour mood. ¡°It¡¯s been a skosh more than five days, Ranger. Longest class up I¡¯ve ever seen. The message they left for you was just somethin¡¯ like you know where to go.¡± The man answered while he visibly counted the cracks on a support pillar. ¡°¡­Fuuuck. Okay, fine. Can I get some food I can eat on the road? I¡¯ll start running after them immediately.¡± Ranthia decided. If she didn¡¯t get on the road soon she suspected that she might turn violent. ¡°Guards ain¡¯t gonna like you tryin¡¯ to leave while the gates are closed.¡± The greasy man snarked. ¡°What? Why the fuck is the gate closed?¡± Ranthia tried to keep her building rage out of her voice, she really did. ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the fucking night! Something wrong with you, Ranger?¡± The man turned more guarded and suspicious after he spoke. Ranthia¡¯s rage winked out even as she blinked in stunned surprise. Without another word she turned and walked away from the tavernkeeper, straight to the entrance, and threw the door wide open. Everything seemed clear and visible, just like it was daytime. Yet when she looked up into the sky she only saw the beautiful, mystical moons that met her gaze. The sky wasn¡¯t blue. The sun wasn¡¯t up. ¡°¡­By Xaoc. Got a new night vision skill when I classed up, never even thought about how weird it was that your tavern was this bright and well lit.¡± Ranthia called back in¡­ well, not quite an apology, but in recognition that the man had been correct. ¡°Seems more weird t¡¯me that you can see a thing with those dead eyes of yours.¡± The man replied. Ranthia probably cringed, since the man immediately started trying to appease her. ¡°Ugh, alright, fine. Tell ya what, Ranger. I¡¯ll get you a mug o¡¯ ale and some bread from yesterday and some sausage and cheese. Then can ya piss off back to your room so I can get some bloody shuteye? You can get more food with breakfast. ¡­Just don¡¯t eat downstairs maybe, yeah?¡± Ranthia just sighed and accepted the deal. She managed to get some sleep and, bolstered by multiple servings of breakfast¡ªher body suddenly realized just how hungry it was once she reintroduced it to food¡ªshe finally was ready to set off. The day was bright and warm, things felt¡­ better. At least while people weren¡¯t openly gawking at her monstrous eyes. She¡¯d gotten looks occasionally with her Void-touched eyes since the element was rare in Remus, but [Vision of the Void] had made them even more striking and obvious. It sometimes felt like everyone she passed had to gape at her. Yes, she was aware that a large part of it was rooted in her own expectations, but she was bothered by the potential and actual reactions of other people in a way she hadn¡¯t felt since she was a child claiming to be an Adventurer. Getting out of town and onto the road helped a lot. It didn¡¯t take her long to start to feel much more like herself once she got into relative isolation. Besides, eyes aside, she was still thrilled with [She who Dances with Chaos]. Her body wanted to move, so Ranthia gleefully danced and skipped along the road until she felt ready to start testing her new Skills. Was she intentionally avoiding thinking about her emotions and her eyes? Yes. But she was also legitimately excited to experiment; experimenting after a class up was one of the most joyous parts of life. Not even [Distorted Likeness] could ever rob Ranthia of that. [Vision of the Void] passively gave her (unnervingly good) night vision, but the ability to see through objects seemed to require an active aspect. ¡­Which still used mana. Of course it did. As if the Skill¡¯s high impact on her mana regen rate wasn¡¯t enough?! Which reminded her, she had kept her free stats available until after her class up to fix any mana regen issues it gave her, and a bit under half the points would do a lot to help. [Mana: 27500/27500] [Mana Regen Rate: 6000] Better, at least. She didn¡¯t want to expend all of her free stats, they were too helpful to keep on hand for an emergency need. Still, at least this meant her experiments weren¡¯t dropping her mana quite so rapidly. Leaves were her first test. To her delight, she could easily see through most of them, though some of the¡­ stems? supports?¡ªwhatever the term was¡ªwere beyond her. She wasn¡¯t entirely surprised that she couldn¡¯t see through trees, though it would have been awesome. It was a level 1 skill though, so her expectations were minimal. Sticks were also beyond her. Slightly more annoyingly, even the little one that was like half the width of her little finger was beyond the skill. It was only level one, she reminded herself, while she stepped off the road and drew a knife. Bark was still too much for her to see through. Ranthia frowned and started peeling layers off of it with her knife until it was so thin she wasn¡¯t sure if even her dexterity was enough to get more off. At that point she could sort of see through it, barely. Not enough to be useful though; it left things pretty hazy and hard to make out. Slightly disgruntled, Ranthia returned to the road. [Vision of the Void] was supposed to help keep her safe, but so far it was looking like the skill was a waste of chaotic potential. The night vision was nice, but it wasn¡¯t the point! Especially not with what it did to her eyes¡­! An opportunity came near. As the courier blew past, Ranthia tried to peer through his bag with the skill. Nope, the thick cloth completely blocked her vision. [*ding!* [Vision of the Void] has reached level 2!] Well, that was something, though her crumbling, thin piece of bark suggested it didn¡¯t do much. It was still only barely see-through. There had to be more to the skill though! Why would it take 1611 of her mana regen rate if it wasn¡¯t a reserve skill? Night vision should have been more efficient than that! Probably, not that she had any idea what she was basing that expectation on. She couldn¡¯t exactly test its ability to see through illusions, but she doubted any Mirage classer she met would be ineffectual enough to be bested by a level 2 skill. Maybe if she danced to get the bonus? ¡­No, [True Grace]¡¯s boost was minor enough that the skill would effectively still be level 2; that math was easy. Basically, only her capped skills would get any benefit out of it as things stood, and even that was probably unnoticeable. Still, at least [True Grace] obviously offered future benefits. [Vision of the Void] was expensive currently and it was unclear just how it would improve. Ranthia considered the (weird and somewhat confusing) skill description. It did mention something about no longer seeing light, so maybe¡­ Ranthia¡¯s head tilted up and her gaze locked onto the sun. For a moment, before she looked away, cursing. The spots she was busy trying to blink out of her vision sure seemed to suggest that she could still be blinded by light. That had been a bit of a stretch, admittedly.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Also, in hindsight, she really should have squinted instead of looking with her eyes wide open and intensely focused. She continued to trigger [Vision of the Void] periodically while she continued down the road, but her tests were largely complete. She was fishing for levels more than anything at that point when she spotted something novel¡ªsomething she hadn¡¯t tried to gaze through yet. Her mind turned to her other new skills. [Sustained Chaos] could be tested, but she also kind of hated to destroy any of her knives until she caught up with the others and had access to her supply of spares. She already had started to treat knives as single use, and with [Strengthen Blade] gone that was an absolute fact of life now. It was annoying, but it was nowhere near worth using a skill slot just to, effectively, double the amount of disposable blades she carried¡ªat the risk of perforating herself with shards of metal again. Also, throwing knives while she travelled the roads was basically asking for an incident. [Echoes of Devastation] clearly worked differently than [Cross Strike] had but testing it had most of the same problems as testing [Sustained Chaos]. Odds were she wouldn¡¯t be able to test it until the next time they got into a combat encounter. Ranthia drew looks from the odd traveller as she danced down the road, but she wasn¡¯t bothered. Her eyes might have drawn their attention anyway, and she would much rather be remembered as the whimsical dancing Ranger instead of the scary inhuman Ranger. Plus, it was practice for [True Grace]. ¡­Probably! So Ranthia whistled, danced, activated skills, and generally avoided deep thought. [Vision of the Void] seemed happy to level as she practiced it, and she could already see through the thinnest of things pretty easily. It even looked like she was starting to be able to see through layers of leaves to some extent. She could probably even see through thin strips of cloth, not that she wanted to dirty any of her bandages to test¡ª Ranthia blinked. How had she missed that possibility? The damned present Hunting left her¡ªthe blindfold that had been the bane of her existence back when she was in the Academy. It would hide her eyes and save her [Sexy] face! And if she was right about [Vision of the Void], she was all but certain that she¡¯d be able to see right through it as if it weren¡¯t there! She never imagined being impatient to be able to put on the blindfold, but there she was. Suddenly she was impatient to catch up. At last, she caught up with her team. As she closed in on the wagon, she executed a glorious spinning leap, managing to open the back of the wagon and shove the door clear with her momentum. Then she landed smoothly and swept into the wagon while she pulled the door shut behind her. Only to find herself with multiple weapons pointed at her. Though her fellow Rangers groused once they realized it was her. ¡°Announce yourself next time, Ranger.¡± Leoios scolded her from the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Sorry~!¡± Ranthia called, already busy getting into her chest. [*ding!* [Vision of the Void] has leveled from 1 to level 26!] [*ding!* [True Grace] has leveled from 1 to level 11!] It had been a good little solo journey. Ranthia had reported, generally, on what her new class upgrade did. More dancer-y than ever. The ability to throw knives with her skills. Excessively creepy eyes that let her see in the dark and through her blindfold. Would go through knives faster than ever. Specifics and weaknesses were left out, but her team needed to know what she could do. Secundia had made good progress too in her new classes. Back before the incident with the bandits, she had upgraded her Metal [Mage] class to be Mirror aspected and her Fire [Mage] class to be Radiance aspected. The woman had been inspired by Ranthia¡¯s fondness for trickiness and came up with her own way to make use of it: [Polyhedral Shine Stones] that she could strike with potent, narrow beams of Radiance to scatter and reflect her beams to strike from unexpected angles. She¡¯d been practicing too and was already getting surprisingly well versed at not hitting her allies with the reflected beams. Mettlea had also made some progress and could now concentrate the Poison he conjured into blobs that scattered a little less readily on the wind. His numbing Poison was slowly leveling up towards usefulness too, which had them optimistic that he¡¯d be able to use his second class more by the end of the round. Pibius had, allegedly, gotten a new skill while Ranthia was gone that improved the speed with which he could build up for his big steam explosions, but he couldn¡¯t exactly safely demonstrate that for the group. Especially not in the wagon. Overall, the mood was optimistic. ¡°I¡¯m back! I got the supplies you asked for.¡± Ranthia called out as she approached. They were in a tiny little forgettable town that barely justified its existence because the journey between the previous town and the next city took a hair too long. The town was so small that they didn¡¯t have a mayor or governor, they just kind of loosely allowed themselves to be ¡®led¡¯ by whichever man happened to be the eldest (equal rights for women seemed¡­ slow to roll out in some of Remus¡¯ backwaters). The latest ¡®honored elder¡¯ had established a rather asinine rule against foreign or traveling merchants, to protect their local shops. External merchants with no affiliation to the local traders had to pay high taxes to even take their goods into the city, then needed to apply for a special¡ªexpensive¡ªpermit that took weeks to grant if they wanted to sell in town. Since this was ridiculous, the town had, helpfully, created a road that circled around the town¡¯s walls for merchants that weren¡¯t willing to deal with it (aka, all of them). There was even space cleared so outside merchants could set up and sell just outside the town gates, albeit with the understanding that the city guard would not help or involve themselves in the event of monsters, dinosaurs, or thieves. There Ranthia had met a woman and her kid sister that were trying to become traveling merchants, though the duo had gotten somewhat stuck. They needed some supplies to keep moving, but they couldn¡¯t even take their cart into town without paying the taxes. The younger sister was too little to buy what they needed, and the woman strongly (and probably accurately) suspected her cart would be picked clean if she left it (relatedly, a [Merchant]/[Warrior] build felt strange, no matter how practical it was). Which was why Ranthia felt like a pile of supplies with legs at the moment; she was indulging in a bit of women¡¯s solidarity. Plus, there was the fact that the town¡¯s inane rules annoyed her, but Leoios had made it clear that their rules weren¡¯t to be challenged. That, somehow, wasn¡¯t the Rangers¡¯ job¡ªnot that Ranthia agreed. Unfortunately, she respected the man too much to challenge him on it. ¡­And, yes, there was the minor fact that the sisters were selling something that Ranthia desperately needed. Among the other assorted items in their goods were a pair of beautiful wedding rings, one for each spouse. Rings were so much more practical than bangles or other larger pieces of jewelry, and the rings were also gorgeous works of art with fine detail worked into the gold. The best part though¡ªwhich drew Ranthia¡¯s hidden eye immediately¡ªwas that each ring bore nearly identical gems that were only two levels away from being the exact shade of green of Hexara¡¯s eyes. Ranthia probably could search all of Remus and not find a more perfect match! Ever since she saw the rings, Ranthia¡¯s head remained filled with nonstop daydreams of her plans to marry Hexara. Of them each wearing one of those rings as they settled into domestic bliss. She had to have them, and what better way to start negotiations than to butter the merchant up with a big favor? It seemed especially important since Ranthia had fairly limited personal funds left, after helping Vera¡ªVert damnit¡ªand the nonstop onslaught of little expenses that resulted from her life on the road. ¡°Thank you so much, how can I ever repay you?¡± The woman offered. A perfect opening! ¡°Well, maybe there¡¯s something among your wares that might catch my eye that you might offer me a good price for?¡± Ranthia offered, putting in a conscious effort to keep her excitement out of her voice. She didn¡¯t want to give away the game! Nothing drove prices up quite like a desperate customer that had to have something. ¡°Take a look, I¡¯m sure we can come to an agreement.¡± The woman enthusiastically replied. Good, she was hungry for a sale! Ranthia reviewed the goods and took a closer look at several items on display. The woman, as expected of a traveling merchant, had a bit of everything. Dyes, tunics, ribbons, jewelry, knives, tools, a bedroll, a stack of straw hats, little carvings, symbols of the five gods for display or for wearing, and even a set of decently carved bone dice for Tali. ¡°What do you want for the paired rings?¡± Ranthia finally asked, trying not to hold her breath. ¡°Still can¡¯t believe you can see with that blindfold on. Skills can be so crazy. ¡­Oh, those rings.¡± The merchant seemed to turn a bit frostier out of nowhere. She named a price, one that was three rods more than Ranthia had. It wasn¡¯t a promising start; Ranthia wasn¡¯t sure she could talk the woman down that far. Still, she had to try! They went back and forth for a bit, until¡­ ¡°Okay, actually, you know what? I can¡¯t do this in good conscience. Those damned rings are nothing but a curse for my family. They brought my mother and I nothing but heartache. I¡¯ll tell you this plainly: every marriage those rings would have been¡ªor, in one case, were¡ªa part of has ended in misery. If you still want ¡®em after hearing that, they¡¯re yours for your offered price.¡± The merchant decided. ¡°Done! I¡¯ll be right back with my rods!¡± Ranthia all but squealed. She was off instantly, dancing openly through the city streets. Superstition never bothered her (her initial worries about getting assigned to Team 13 didn¡¯t count), it wasn¡¯t like the rings had anything to do with the fae or any other real danger. It was just one or two bits of bad luck coupled with terrible choice in partners. That wasn¡¯t a concern for her. She would marry Hexara with those rings. She only had just over a year left in her round; spring was already in bloom which meant that they were less than a season away from being halfway done. ¡­And Ranthia would have to somehow make a handful of coins last that long. Oh well, she could do without luxuries for the rest of the round. Love was worth enduring a bit of discomfort for. Ranthia¡¯s 22nd birthday arrived and she immediately discovered why everyone else had transparently evaded Secundia¡¯s attempts to learn when their birthday was. The instant that Ranthia began to stir from her slumber on the day of the birthday, the exuberant woman pounced on her with a hug. While loudly singing some sort of song about celebrating birthdays that Ranthia was unable to appreciate between the well-meaning woman¡¯s shrill¡ªyet thunderous¡ªsinging voice and the fact that Ranthia¡¯s face was buried in her cleavage. The rest of the team was groaning and threatening Secundia to no avail while Ranthia desperately fought for air. All too soon, Ranthia found herself, still groggy, staring at a massive cake covered in fruit preserves. She had never been Pallos¡¯ biggest fan of sweets. They were fine, but they weren¡¯t anything she¡¯d buy when left to her own devices. She had only ever sought them out when she was trying to be a good girlfriend, since every woman she had ever been with had a fondness for them. And yet she was being asked to eat a sweet cake covered in sweet fruit goo for breakfast. Worst of all, the cake was positively massive, plainly meant for an actual large celebration, not eight Rangers. No, worst of all was the fact that they had left the last city three days ago. The colossal confection was stale, far too much, and almost painfully sweet. Ranthia still politely thanked Secundia and made appropriate noises of appreciation while she forced herself to eat it. Secundia meant well, she really did. And Ranthia could genuinely appreciate that. Even if she wished the woman had shown it in a different way. They were nearing a town Ranthia actually recognized the name of: Massilix. The grand city that dared to touch The Ocean (the body of water, not the Sentinel). Many that spoke of it¡ªwithout visiting¡ªbought into the weird [Bard] songs that convinced them that endless water was somehow romantic. Ranthia hadn¡¯t been impressed when she had passed through with Tatius and Pupius back when she was young, and she doubted she¡¯d be impressed now that she was a proper adult. Plus, she knew how damned deadly The Ocean truly was. The people that lived there had to be absolutely unhinged to stay. Worse, it also meant that they were nearing their next stop after it, one that Ranthia outright dreaded. Perinthus. Her hometown, where she was reborn. A place of terror and abuse, as far as her memories were concerned. So, yes, she was more than a little relieved when the nastiest storm she had ever experienced forced them to halt. Republius had been muttering for days about not liking the skyline, but for Ranthia it felt like it came out of nowhere. The winds were so savage that Leoios had to call for Penticus, Mettlea, and Ranthia to wrest the wheels off the wagon while Republius did what he could to root it in place. Pibius was given free rein to draw as much mana from the wagon as he needed to conjure enough stone to help brace the wagon and make shelter for their newest pair of horses. He had to make it thick and patch it nearly daily. They ended up grounded there for almost a full week. None of them had experienced a storm so savage before, though Republius had mentioned records of them. Apparently, they were called hurricanes (or maybe typhoons? Apparently, people disagreed on the name, and it alternated periodically). By the time it finally ended, Ranthia was perfectly happy to never see one again. She hadn¡¯t slept well the entire time, eternally paranoid that the storm would just blow everything away if she closed her eyes for too long. It didn¡¯t help that they had to call for Pibius often when his stone structure started to crack or come undone by sheer windforce or the impact of small objects. [Vision of the Void] still couldn¡¯t see through her eyelids, though she could now see through a bit more than she could before. She had even accidentally gotten entirely too much of an eyeful of Secundia when the tunic-clad woman pranced into her line of sight while she was practicing with the skill. Not that there was much else she could do. They didn¡¯t have enough space for anyone to seriously do martial practice. So Ranthia just practiced with [Vision of the Void] while she daydreamed about various ways to propose to her girlfriend once the round ended. Beyond that, about all she could do was pray to Xaoc or swap stories with the others. Even Tali was boring, since Leoios refused to let them gamble, lest they undermine their ability to work as a team. But all storms ended eventually, and soon after Republius cleared them to resume their journey. ¡­As soon as they scattered the conjured stone deep into the woods and finished reassembling the wagon. Maybe if she was lucky they were delayed long enough to skip Perinthus? Book 1 - Chapter 45 - Outmatched Massilix was, unsurprisingly, in somewhat rough shape when they rolled in through the still ongoing rain. The city guard barely even had the gate manned¡ªno mana dumps, no [Healer] could be spared to screen anyone¡ªand most of them were out trying to help the city pick up the pieces. Things had blown over. Buildings had lost roofs or had damaged walls due to windblown debris. There was a lot to do, and Ranthia was pleasantly surprised to see the city guard doing what it could to help the people. Rather than get underfoot by staying at the guard compound, Leoios made the judgment call to dip into the team funds a bit and get them rooms at a tavern in the area of the city that was almost undamaged (it was weird how some areas could be devastated then a few paces later there were entire blocks left untouched). Ranthia and Republius were tasked with figuring out the availability of four possible taverns he knew of in that area that could accommodate them and their wagon. The rest of the team were going to start buying the supplies they needed. Massilix was (well, was supposed to be; it was hard to say how the storm affected that) a great chance to resupply some of their missing arrows and equipment. He had even promised to get Ranthia some more knives, since she was already running a bit low. The day was rainy, and it was still a bit windy; the lingering after effects of the hellstorm, Ranthia supposed. The first tavern was closed up tight and there was no indication of why. So they were walking across to the second when movement caught Ranthia¡¯s eye out from the Ocean. A single little fishing boat, the kind that usually has one or two people on it. ¡°Should they be out already?¡± She asked. ¡°Hm? Oh, that boat. Seems early for me, but that¡¯s not really Ranger business.¡± Republius replied, disinterested. ¡°Oh? Good eye, Ranger! Yeah, that old salt has been harassing the dock master for days; he seems to think the best fishing is right after a storm. Y¡¯ask me, I think he just wants a good view of the beachline to see if any good sea monster bodies washed up.¡± A nearby man chimed in. ¡­Then, right before the eyes of the three of them, a gigantic tentacle emerged from the water and a heartbeat later the little fishing boat was a few floating bits of broken wood. All three of them blanched, and the local took off his rain-soaked hat and held it to his heart. ¡°And that is why I don¡¯t go out on boats ¡®round here. Nothing should identify in any color that¡¯s gone vivid, just ain¡¯t right!¡± The local complained. Ranthia and Republius glanced at one another and swiftly decided to move on and pretend they saw nothing. There was no saving whoever had been on that boat. Their wagon had been repacked and locked up tight, along with their freshly restocked supplies. On the morrow, they would put up their sign and see what local problems (other than the weather) came up. But for the night, they ate a good meal of seafood stew then piled two to a room into their rooms and turned in for a blissful night¡¯s sleep after being stuck in close proximity during the hurricane for far too long. Ranthia bolted upright in her bed, before Secundia even began to stir. For Ranthia, the clamor of the city¡¯s alarm bells¡ªand the screaming that accompanied them¡ªwas impossible to miss. Ranthia threw the covers off, ran to the window. ¡­And saw nothing; her room didn¡¯t exactly have a great view. Still, she roused the other Ranger and then they hurriedly helped one another gear up before they ran downstairs. Ranthia found herself dispatched for information by their leader almost the very moment she arrived. He and Republius were already waiting, Penticus was on their heels. Ranthia went. Ranthia¡¯s mind was filled with the foulest, most imaginative curses she could come up with by the time she returned. Pibius was only just barely making his way downstairs, but the others were gathered and waiting for her. ¡°Sir, a sea monster sank most of the ships and boats they had docked. Sounds like the one Republius and I saw in the distance earlier. It¡¯s¡­ pretty huge.¡± She reported. ¡°Right. We can assume this out-levels us by a large margin. Placate, Kill, Drive off, or Tolerate?¡± Leoios asked. None of them were well suited to fighting in the ocean. It was (allegedly) too salty for Hail to freeze to level the playing field too. He was pretty sure he would drain the wagon dry without success. Mettlea wanted to try to poison it, but realistically their best option was to Tolerate and hope it left on its own. They had oh so nearly settled the conversation and were starting to get into the logistics of helping with the evacuation efforts of the area closest to the water. Then they were interrupted. Even more alarm bells started up, far more desperate than before. The screaming had started up again, but it was different now¡ªthey weren¡¯t screams of anger or fear anymore. They were screams made in raw terror. Followed by a horrendous crack that filled the night. The Rangers ran out of the tavern just in time to watch part of the city wall collapse into The Ocean, pulled in by a massive tentacle. ¡°Ranger Team 13, go! Prioritize helping people, I¡¯ll write a message. We¡¯ll almost certainly need a Sentinel. Go!¡± Leoios ordered. The seven of them went. Their mission wasn¡¯t to engage with the creature but rather to try to drive it off a bit while they tried to get people clear. Not that any of them were optimistic that the oceanic aberration would play along. The situation deteriorated rapidly. The massive monstrosity continued to pull entire buildings apart and had collapsed nearly all of the city wall facing the Ocean. Ranthia and the rest ran about and retrieved people that were in the direst of danger, but they were too late all too often. Buildings were being dropped in rapid succession, unable to withstand the raw power behind the tentacles. Leoios arrived with their wagon. The horses barely contained their terror.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Ranger Team 13, we engage! Ranger Pibius, take the wagon; you have priority on the mana from it. I¡¯ve sent the city¡¯s best courier¡ªand I¡¯m pretty sure she¡¯s faster than Ranger Ranthia¡ªwith a message to headquarters requesting Sentinel assistance. Ranger Ranthia, Ranger Republius, with me. Ranger Hallus and Ranger Secundia, find a place where you can try your spells on it. Ranger Mettlea, protect them. Ranger Penticus¡­ Do what you can!¡± Penticus, unfortunately, could do pretty little here. He had little to no ranged ability and by his own admission swam quite poorly. And frankly, the idea of trying to withstand any hits from that thing was plainly insane. The team split up. Leoios turned on Ranthia as soon as they were alone, aside from Republius. ¡°Stick to your restrictions.¡± He ordered her. ¡°What?!¡± Ranthia snapped in utter disbelief. ¡°I¡¯m not going to mess up what the Sentinels started; this situation isn¡¯t that desperate. We should be able to drive it off with some pain. Just do what you can from range and help guard us for now.¡± The man ordered her in a tone that suggested he knew what he was doing. Ranthia seriously had her doubts that he could control the situation, but when her doubts warred with her respect for the man¡­ she followed orders. They closed in. The sea monster was like nothing Ranthia had ever seen before. She vaguely recognized it as a squid from her classes, but it was an order of magnitude larger than any of the ones she had reviewed, a true sea monster. ¡­Which suggested that it was a kraken, something they had only had records of through partial bodies before. Once they were in position, Leoios and Republius began to fire arrows at it. Not that they seemed to do much. The kraken seemed to have some sort of armor that covered its tentacles and its body. ¡°My [Identify] isn¡¯t working! Can anyone get a level off that thing?¡± Leoios demanded. A chorus of no¡¯s came in. Ranthia swore even as she ripped her blindfold off and stuffed it into a pouch. There would be questions after this, but leaving them ignorant of the titanic threat they faced was unconscionable! ¡°It¡¯s triple classed! [Kraken ¨C Coral] level 786! [Kraken ¨C Steam] level 703! [Kraken ¨C Dark] level 548!¡± She called out. ¡°¡­I have an evolved form of [Identify].¡± She explained when Leoios gave her a look. Several of the Rangers were spewing their own renditions of profanity. They already knew that they were disadvantaged, but there was a world of difference between disadvantaged and actual knowledge of just how deadly a threat they faced. ¡°Stick to your restrictions.¡± Leoios repeated after a long pause. ¡°Rangers, press your attacks! Let¡¯s drive it off and buy time for the Sentinels to respond!¡± Their leader called. As if it wouldn¡¯t take weeks for reinforcements to arrive. Ranger Team 13, though scattered, moved slowly closer as they pressed their attacks. Spells flew from Hail and Secundia. Arrows continued to rain across the kraken¡¯s body from Leoios, Republius, and a wholly ineffectual Ranthia (she was aiming for tentacles since she couldn¡¯t fire far enough to hit its body). Its armor¡ªCoral presumably¡ªdeflected every attack, rarely ever even losing a colorful bit of the delicate-looking material. Even shots aimed at its massive eye only seemed to bounce off ineffectually. Republius¡¯ efforts to bind it were completely wasted, which was probably why he gave up on them swiftly. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong! I can¡¯t get my spell to blow beneath it! I know it works underwater, but it¡¯s like¡­ Oh, by all the spiteful gods, I think it might be seizing control over my steam!¡± Pibius blasphemed. ¡°Switch to using your Earth class, do what you can!¡± Leoios called out. Now, suddenly, having Pibius with the wagon was a problematic miscalculation. Secundia or Hail would have made better use of its mana. The aquatic nightmare dragged itself into even shallower water to get closer to the city. Another, even larger tentacle thrust out of the water and immediately pulverized buildings and the ineffectual fortifications that were meant to keep the city safe from nightmares like this. Yet Pallos sometimes loved to remind humanity that their best was barely even a nuisance to some that lived there. Mettlea charged at the tentacle and began to punch it. The tentacle flicked to the side with sudden, explosive force. Mettlea was unable to even react, let alone get clear, and ended up pulled under the tentacle. In horror, Ranthia watched as a man¡ªher comrade, a friend¡ªwas transformed into a smear of gore. One instant he was there. The next¡­ ¡°Sir!¡± Ranthia shrieked, desperation coloring her tone. ¡°Keep your restrictions!¡± Leoios snapped, each word spoken between arrows he fired. Brilliance-backed buster arrows bounced off, unable to do much more than snap some coral and mildly inconvenience the monstrosity. Republius¡¯ plants were mulched before they could grow enough to even count as a mild inconvenience, he wasn¡¯t even trying to restrict it¡ªjust establish more options. Another massive tentacle lashed out. The watchtower that Hail was on collapsed. There was no sign of the man after. Ranthia wanted to claw her own skin off as she watched it fall. She felt helpless. Her team was dying before her eyes and she was supposed to stand there?! She didn¡¯t want to protect Republius and Leoios while they hid at range! She had to get in there. It was rare that obeying their leader¡¯s orders felt wrong, but for the love of Xaoc¡­! The kraken dragged itself partially out of the water. Penticus was the next to fall. He had tried to leap at the sea monster now that it was closer. A tentacle just smashed him back into the rocks where he popped like a horrendous gore-filled bubble. His vitality and defensive skills meant nothing compared to the stark difference in their levels. Ranthia trembled while she bit her lip until she tasted blood. In her mind¡¯s eye she once again watched her guardians, Tatius and Pupius, die without her. She hadn¡¯t seen their fall, of course, but that nightmarish scene had plagued her dreams for much of her life. And now it played out in real time with her team. They had spent over a year together; they had come together. Even Pibius had become somewhat tolerable! Her loyalty and respect for Leoios was shattering. Doubts chased her impotent frustration. There was, rationally, damned little she could do¡ªbut what the fuck was the point of standing there uselessly?! She wasn¡¯t an [Archer], and she was being denied any opportunity to even try to be useful! ¡°Fuck this!¡± Pibius¡¯ voice rang out and pulled Ranthia from the spiral of her increasingly destructive thoughts. The man tried to turn the wagon around, but the horses were clumsy with terror. They didn¡¯t want to follow orders. The motion and their frightened whinnies drew the monstrosity¡¯s attention. A tentacle snared the wagon, coiling around it. Ranthia could do nothing but watch as Pibius¡¯ flesh was torn by the barbed suckers. Then horses screamed while the wagon was lifted and pulled into the ocean, where it cracked like an egg. They were four. ¡°Get in closer, spread out! Staying at range is just letting it pick us off!¡± Leoios ordered. He then looked Ranthia in her dark, dead eyes. ¡°Keep to your restrictions. That is a direct order.¡± Ranthia cursed him in her heart. Respect turned to ash and churned into hate. Her mind was made up. ¡°Fuck you!¡± Ranthia snarled at the man. She rushed forward, as close as she dared to one of the tentacles, before she threw one of her knives using [Sustained Chaos] to imbue it with [Void Edge], [Flowing Momentum], and [Echoes of Devastation]. The blade sliced into the tentacle. It left a true wound¡ªas far as she knew it was the first attack that had even drawn blood from it. Yet she wasn¡¯t even sure if the kraken noticed. The scale of the monster was just¡­ unfair. Every time Leoios fired a shot he immediately used his Radiance class to throw himself in a random direction before the squid could retaliate. Republius made use of the night¡¯s shadows¡ªRanthia had nearly forgotten it was night; she had to watch the horrors unfold in perfect daylight to her own perception¡ªto hide and skulk about, firing from different hiding places. And Secundia¡­ Wait, where had she gone? After a precious moment, Ranthia found her. She was running for a small house; there was a child watching her out the window. And there was a tentacle in the air over the house. Ranthia screamed and ran desperately. She had to get there first¡­! She could get an image there, but it was too far to shift! Not that there was time. The tentacle came down, directly on top of the house. Directly on top of Secundia. Ranthia had only succeeded in getting close enough that the force of the impact threw her back into the wall of a sturdy stone building. Her head cracked against the wall¡ªand things went black. Book 1 - Chapter 46 - Minor Interlude – Leoios – One Miscalculation Leoios had to admit, he made a mistake. As the scion of the Velius, he was always under intense pressure to succeed¡ªhis family traced its roots back to an ancient Sentinel and they had served Remus with distinction ever since. Being the leader of Ranger Team 1 had a certain weight, but he had never been satisfied even if his kin were impressed. At last, he had an opportunity to advance once again¡ªone of the veteran Rangers in Ranger Command planned to retire. He just had to overcome another man who curried favor with the Emperor, which meant he needed to cement his name as the best candidate to all Ranger Commanders and the Sentinels. Republius planted the seeds, as a proper subordinate should. The offer to become a Sentinel had nearly pulled Leoios away from the plan, but no¡ªRanger Command spoke to him far more. They were in a bind since Nature¡¯s apprentice refused to succeed him, but Leoios would never accept being a second or third string choice. His destiny was greater. Ranger Team 13 was his best shot; all he needed to do was gather a team of the best of the best and prove his leadership was unmatched. Not that the plan was without its complications¡ªout the gate he only got three of his ideal candidates (not counting Republius) and he was forced to take a graduate from the Academy. Three of his precious slots were stand-ins. And then Sentinel Hunting appeared while Leoios was in the midst of trying to figure out just how badly luck of the draw had screwed him over. For a Sentinel to take such deep interest in a new graduate? To restrict her? Leoios had no doubt in his mind what it meant: the Sentinels were on his side and were showing it by entrusting him with a future Sentinel. If he could just find a grand feat to bring her forward, his road to Ranger Command would be paved with gold. It was how Commander Julius had come to be promoted, straight from leading lesser teams. And yet life hadn¡¯t worked out quite so neatly. Grand feats were in short supply. Ranger Mettlea had proven unworthy of his glowing record. Ranger Secundia was, frankly, wildly unsuited to be a Ranger (he would have to make changes to the Academy¡¯s standards once he became a Commander, to prevent others like her). And most annoying of all, the prospective Sentinel was young and headstrong, which left her prone to poor judgment. ¡­She also was clearly involved in less than legal activities as well, which were always difficult to tolerate and ignore. The corruption of the guards looked good for him, but it wasn¡¯t a grand feat for a Sentinel. Just as he began to question if he would ever find anything suitable, a monster attacked Massilix almost as soon as they arrived. At last Seira had smiled upon him. This wasn¡¯t a crisis¡ªit was an opportunity. The plan was straightforward. He needed to have Ranger Ranthia hang back until the beast was weakened, then she could strike the decisive blow and reveal her full capabilities to the team. It would be a feat that would no doubt reach Command¡¯s ears long before his own report ever did. At first, it seemed that the team was failing him. While it was true that the monster was tricky to fight since it kept itself concealed in a¡ªif Ranger Ranthia¡¯s odd [Identify] variant could be trusted¡ªDark cloud of Steam¡­ He was still unimpressed with his Rangers¡¯ performances, at least at first.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Unfortunately, it seemed that in truth he had underestimated the beast; that was a miscalculation on his part that he could no longer deny. When Ranger Ranthia went down¡ªafter going rogue¡ªhe was forced to reevaluate. She had suffered the kind of blow that would either be shrugged off or was instantly fatal. The best decision he could make was to disengage. ¡°Retrieve her body. We fall back.¡± Leoios called out, confident that Republius would hear and act. The man was the ideal embodiment of a second in command, after all. He pressed his own attack to buy time. He was unable to gauge the damage his buster arrows were inflicting, but he was confident that they were devastating the beast. If he was fortunate, it would die of its wounds after they disengaged. But the monster¡¯s reach and his range were dangerously similar, so he needed to disengage. After every shot he tapped [Radiant Surge] and shot himself in a carefully selected direction, to avoid retaliation. Republius materialized from the shadows near Ranger Ranthia and ran for her. When it came to dealing with monsters, discerning motive was often difficult. Monsters typically were little more than stupid beasts. A rare few might be surprisingly cunning, but more often than not they simply managed to do something so outlandishly infuriating that it was difficult to not ascribe it to intentional malice. Such were the thoughts that went through Leoios¡¯ head when an unseen limb¡ªa tentacle, allegedly (he struggled to believe she had such an impressive variant of [Identify])¡ªslew Republius before he could reach Ranger Ranthia. It was strange, he expected to be distraught. Most would have considered his relationship with the man a close friendship. To Leoios the word failed to capture the essence of their bond. They were the leader and his capable second. Republius was the only man that Leoios had ever truly trusted. And then he was gone. Leoios felt¡­ disappointment. Perhaps annoyance. There may have been some guilt, had he been able to take the time to continue his assessment of himself. Yet the monster seemed to have decided to focus on him at last, albeit far too late. He fired another shot and used [Radiant Surge] to evade. Bit by bit, his carefully chosen pattern helped him get distance from the monster. Yet his quiver ran light, and he had yet to fully disengage. For a single, horrible moment he worried the beast was toying with him. But that was absurd. He was still in control of the situation. The monster might have outmatched Ranger Team 13, but Leoios was a Velius. He would never fall to some simple-minded creature. As if Seira agreed with him, the first good thing that had happened throughout the entire battle came to pass. He heard Ranger Ranthia groan and stir. Excellent, so long as she lived, his ambitions weren¡¯t lost. Everything else could be replaced in time. He just needed to buy a few more moments for her to collect herself, then they could retreat. Another arrow, only two remained. Then he just needed to tap [Radiant Surge] to retreat to¡ª There was nowhere to retreat to. When had a second appendage gotten there?! He should have yelled for her to run when she stirred, Leoios decided in his final moments. It seemed that he had made a second miscalculation. Not that it bothered him for very long. Book 1 - Chapter 47 - A Hundred Thousand Cuts Ranthia hadn¡¯t been down long¡ªshe couldn¡¯t have been; the moons in the sky essentially hadn¡¯t budged. And yet. Yet the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a small part of Republius that stared at her with a single glassy eye. It felt accusatory. Secundia was gone. Republius was gone. Leoios was still fighting though. Ranthia struggled back to her feet, she was wounded but she was fine, it wasn¡¯t her first head wound. It wouldn¡¯t be her last. Ranthia steadied her footing just in time to watch Leoios end up pinned between two tentacles. An instant later, before she could meaningfully react, he too was gone. Just like that, her ambitions to join his fight crumbled. The final words she had ever said to the man were to curse him. Not that he deserved any less. If he hadn¡¯t restrained her¡­! Ranthia shuddered. A tiny, logical piece of her mind screamed that she needed to run. The rest of her mind was seized by guilt and hatred, and logic was smothered beneath the cold rage that burned through her veins like ice, far colder than any Hail (rest well) ever conjured. The monster had killed her entire team. Leoios had enabled it. ¡­As had she. Had she just refused his orders sooner¡­! Xaoc, watch over them. Do what you can to ease their journey through Samsara. Secundia was genuinely good in the way few can manage. Hail¡ªHallus¡ªwas creative and always friendly. Mettlea meant well, even if he struggled to live up to it. Penticus was a good man, devoted to making Remus a little safer for his daughter¡¯s future; gods and goddesses, I don¡¯t even know where his stupid bird went. Pibius¡­ lived up to his reputation, usually. Republius had the team¡¯s best interests in heart, even if we didn¡¯t always know it. ¡­Leoios should have been better, but I respected him once. None of them deserved to die like this. Nor any of the people that lived here; no matter how insane they had to be to live next to The Ocean. But don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll make things right. Ranthia immediately cut her prayer without waiting for a response and smiled. It wasn¡¯t a happy smile. It wasn¡¯t a determined smirk like she assumed it was either; it was something a bit more¡­ twisted. Anguished. She turned back to the building she had been smashed into. It seemed sturdy; she had no idea how sturdy, but it had to be good enough. The door was locked, but it failed to hold up against a single infuriated kick. Ranthia hobbled¡ªow¡ªinto the storeroom and immediately began to channel. Soon enough she was ready. Several moments after her channel concluded, she inhabited a mirror image and glared balefully at the raging oceanic monstrosity. It had killed her entire team. But it had made a fatal mistake. It hadn¡¯t killed her. Ranthia roared as she closed in on the monster. Cold hateful fury tore through her mind and soul. Her hatred for the monster. Her hatred for herself. She needed to avenge her party, she needed it more than anything. In her fury, she fought as an Adventurer. There was no rhythm¡ªno grace. Mirror images appeared, scattered about as best she could manage with the poor lines of sight. Even with the devastation, she was still inside of a decently robust city¡ªblind spots were more common than clear lines of sight. But even an image that stumbled forward blind was an advantage, anything to keep her from being quite as obvious of a target as she closed in. Ranthia channeled while she ran. At last, she was in range. It was a stupid move, but she was so blinded by her fury that she never quite realized it. She threw an image atop the kraken and shifted onto its body. Immediately, she tapped [Void Edge], [Flowing Momentum], and [Echoes of Devastation] and began to lash out. With the Void and her other skills behind her strikes, she carved through the coral armor with ease¡ªclearly it wasn¡¯t backed by vitality¡ªand drew blood. System notifications triggered, but Ranthia activated her most aggressive preset and further restricted it to kill notifications of targets over level 700. She didn¡¯t care. Levels, new skills, none of it mattered¡ªonly the life and death struggle for revenge. One of the shorter tentacles came for her. Ranthia started to channel, even as she evaded it. The beast was fast, but it seemed unused to trying to grapple things that were on its own body. Ranthia even scoured coral off the tentacle while she evaded, leaving scattered cuts along it. [Echoes of Devastation] wasn¡¯t quite the same as [Cross Strike] had been. The secondary ¡®impact¡¯ came along the path of the original, half a heartbeat behind. This meant her cuts were slightly deeper than they were before¡ªthough she no longer got to inflict two cuts for every swipe of her knife. The skill favored depth, not spread. Which might be a problem¡ªcutting slightly deeper wasn¡¯t going to accomplish much with a target so ridiculously massive! Ranthia continued to squirm across the large head fin atop (on the backside of? she wasn¡¯t sure how the creature should be oriented) the kraken as she evaded the tentacle, delivering cuts as rapidly as she could to it and the tentacle. The coral made footing treacherous, but [Rhythmic Grace] still had [Steps into the Void]¡¯s effects that helped offset that problem. If this was the best the creature could do, she was fine¡ªso long as she didn¡¯t get careless¡­! [Combat Awareness] screamed. Ranthia barely had time to understand the scope of the attack. She started to shift to one of the mirror images she¡¯d left scattered about in the streets¡ªlong since immobile, she¡¯d stopped even trying to divide her attention after she got up there¡ªbut there wasn¡¯t enough time. Ranthia kicked off the coral-covered kraken and launched herself off of it. Even as a wave of Darkness erupted from the monstrosity. Ranthia¡¯s perception twisted as she went from airborne and in danger to suddenly back in the streets. The image that she abandoned was erased by the surge of Darkness that surrounded the kraken, moments before the full-body attack faded. ¡°Just full of tricks¡­¡± Ranthia snarled as she glared at the kraken. The attack was uncomfortably similar to [Repulse the Unworthy], which gave her non-subtle regrets about abandoning the Skill if it was that powerful¡ª ¡°Gods and goddesses, what is wrong with me?!¡± Ranthia hissed, as she at long last remembered that she had classed up. She wasn¡¯t some berserker trying desperately to land a fatal blow damnit! Ranthia took a moment while she breathed and studied the kraken. It seemed to have lost interest in¡ªor perhaps awareness of¡ªher for the moment. The pointy head-fin thing was atop the creature, below that was its strange cylindrical body. There were two massive eyes on either side of the body, which extended far enough out that she suspected the creature had few blind spots. There was an odd spigot-looking organ sticking out near the eyes¡ªshe had no idea what it was. Beneath(?) the creature were two massive tentacles, with large blobs of clubbing flesh at their ends¡ªthese two were by far the longest and seemingly most powerful of the beast¡¯s limbs. It primarily attacked with those, but when it seized something that its piteous mind thought might be food it brought the item to its smaller tentacles¡ªof which there were at least six, possibly eight¡ªwhich brought the item underwater toward the main body. Fair odds there was a mouth somewhere under there. Enough gawking. Ranthia started forward again, but she didn¡¯t take a step. She pirouetted, then swept her foot forward as she tried to find her rhythm once again. She was concerned that it might be hard to dance with how angry she was, but her body fell into an impromptu performance immediately. Her soul sang and the ice that flowed through her veins ignited into a passionate inferno. She was still pissed beyond reason and sense, but she was ready to channel her fury. Ranthia reached out with [Reflective Motility] and found the images that were still active. Many were gone, but not all; she had them dance forward as well, even as she began to bolster their numbers. She couldn¡¯t make them dance well in the numbers she was attempting, but they screened her as she closed back in. The kraken had receded into the water some¡ªit seemed unwilling to stay quite so emerged for too long¡ªwhich gave her a brief opportunity to get close while its reach was limited. If she could keep damaging the main body, it was just a matter of time until the beast took damage it couldn¡¯t ignore so readily. The coral she¡¯d sheared off hadn¡¯t regrown yet for some reason; had the Dark pulse really taken so much out of the creature? If so, perhaps she truly could win! A savage smile crossed her face as she greedily drank in the mana the arcanite in her vest had to offer. That gave her enough mana to shift once, though if she could avoid shifting she could fight for a good while off the same amount of mana. [Vision of the Void] was using up most of her mana regen to allow her to see through the dark haze around the kraken though, which meant she needed to find something¡ª [Combat Awareness] had always proven its worth. Rigira had tried to convince Ranthia not to rely on it, but in the end the dwarf never managed to best the Skill. Her failure reduced the impact of the lesson that she¡¯d tried to impart more than just a bit. Until the moment when Ranthia panic-dodged a sudden attack she hadn¡¯t sensed coming. [Combat Awareness] remained silent, even as debris across a swath of the area launched into the air. Even as image after image was annihilated in the span of the barest beat of a heart. Ranthia¡¯s own reaction had less to do with her survival than sheer luck did¡ªonly the outermost periphery of the attack had reached her. The kraken was almost completely out of the water, no longer where it had been positioned a moment before. A wave of dissipating Steam washed over Ranthia a heartbeat later, even as she stumbled back to where it was safe. Only for her legs to immediately fail her. Ranthia fell to the ground, catching herself painfully on her elbows. The pain felt¡­ strangely distant though. Her gaze lowered to her body. What was left of it. Better than half the laminar of her armor was just¡­ gone. With it went her skin, flesh, and more than a few bones. The half-delirious thought that she was fortunate she¡¯d already drained her arcanite vest of its mana flitted through her mind when she noted that half the vest¡¯s material was gone. The fall had displaced several of her organs. Others were probably reduced to pulp by the blow she hadn¡¯t quite managed to dodge. She needed to channel. Right. Ranthia tried to concentrate, but the pain reached her moments into it. Her grasp on the channel faded as her consciousness dimmed under the onslaught of the agony. Precious mana lost. She still had enough¡ªthat was an 8, right?¡ªbut it was a desperate struggle to hold on. Her vision blurred and dimmed. She wasn¡¯t going to make it. At least she tried. At least she¡¯d join her team. Tatius. Pupius. There was something poetic about everything coming to an end at last. She¡¯d hurt the thing, at least. Not that she was delusional enough to believe the shallow injuries she had inflicted threatened the kraken¡¯s future; even half-dead she knew better. Hexara¡¯s face flashed through her addled mind. It was the memory of the woman she loved, crying in her arms out of worry for her. She¡­ she couldn¡¯t do that to Hexara! She had found the perfect rings, a perfect green that was merely a couple of levels away from Hexara¡¯s own eye color¡ªso similar that most people seemed unable to tell the difference between the hues. Godsdamnit, she didn¡¯t have time to indulge in reminiscing¡ªit was getting harder and harder to focus. The rings were¡­ where were they? They were in her chest. Her chest had been in the wagon. Ranthia¡¯s gaze flicked toward the water, her vision suddenly clearer than it had been before. Fragments of the wagon stuck out of the water, practically beneath the damned kraken. It was going to end up crushing the rings! Ranthia¡¯s outraged concern gave her just enough will to hang on through a second attempt to channel. The world exploded with sound as more of her precious images were erased. But there were still two. At some point in the aftermath, the channel concluded and Ranthia dimly chose the nearest image and activated [Reflections of Reality]. Just a few more heartbeats, that was all she needed to hang on for. Had they always been so slow? Ranthia gasped desperately for breath the instant she found herself in a new body. The urge to shudder and collapse was intense, but she fought through it. She wasn¡¯t done, godsdamnit! Her gaze found the kraken, busy stuffing what looked like sacks into the water. Oh, look, the damned monster had found something it considered to be a snack in the rubble somewhere! [Mana: 493/27500] Ranthia¡¯s mind filled with the most profane¡ªborderline blasphemous¡ªswears she knew when she noticed her mana. It wasn¡¯t near enough. She could tear through that much mana in moments. There was zero chance she could kill the accursed monster with that little mana. She didn¡¯t even have enough to pray for Xaoc to intercede and rain judgment upon the beast¡ªand gods and goddesses, she was tempted. She needed more. Ranthia climbed the nearest fragment of a building, seeking height for a better view. The wagon had plenty of arcanite¡ªthe stores were roughly half full¡ªbut she had no idea where it was. She was too low on mana to even seriously consider trying to dive into the water right in front of the kraken. Still, there had to be some somewhere in the city. Even if she wasn¡¯t attuned, she just needed a bit more time to draw mana from it. Arcanite was easy to spot, it was a shiny gemstone that glowed¡ªand it was still night so the glow would be more prominent. Not even [Vision of the Void]¡¯s night vision quite offset just how much brighter flames or such were at night than they were by day, in some bizarre twist of the skill. It was kind of strange to survey Massilix. To the South, most of the city was¡­ just fine. There were even gawkers, some of which pointed at her. The devastation only covered about a sixth of the city¡ªthat which was closest to The Ocean. In that narrow strip of the city there was little more than rubble, evidence of carnage where people had once stood, and more than a few fires that spread amongst the rubble. And no signs of arcanite, of course. There were bound to be various small stones hidden amongst the debris, but it had been somewhat optimistic to hope for something visible. The kraken finished its snack, and its two club-tipped giant tentacles extended into the rubble once again. She needed to move soon, yet indecision weighed on her. She needed to fight, but she couldn¡¯t, not without mana. Gods and goddesses, if only there was some way¡­ A glint in the moonlight caught her eye. The kraken itself provided her with an answer! Ranthia would have laughed if she wasn¡¯t nominally trying to not draw its attention yet. Their wagon hadn¡¯t gone down without a fight in its own way, it seemed. There was a large, jagged chunk of arcanite impaled into one of the fleshy clubs, glowing amidst the pale blood that leaked around it. Ranthia leapt off the remnant of the building she had been perched upon and moved silently through the rubble-strewn streets and alleys. Closing in on one of the most dangerous parts of the kraken was idiotic, but the arcanite had to be a boon from Xaoc¡ªwhat were the fucking odds of it impaling itself there otherwise? Clearly, He wanted such a destructive beast slain! The thought warmed Ranthia¡¯s heart. She was still within His plans. Not that the kraken cooperated. Its tentacles flitted through the rubble with ease, as it searched for more snacks. Every time she closed in, the tentacle completed its current search and moved elsewhere. Ranthia¡¯s plans turned more and more outrageous as her frustration mounted. Not that she had a ballista with chained ammunition, a Gravity [Mage] class with four-digit power, or the improbable ability to all but stop the flow of time for other beings. Ranthia even caught up to the wrong tentacle twice before she finally caught up to the one with the arcanite embedded in it. The instant she was in range, Ranthia hurriedly danced closer to lay a hand on the arcanite. She¡ªand the others from her deceased Ranger team¡ªhad been attuned to specific arcanite stones that poked through the walls of the wagon, which drew power by some means from the larger reserves like this was a part of. This meant that she wasn¡¯t attuned to the large chunk of arcanite. It resisted her pull, as she mentally grappled with the strands of power and tugged them into her. Worse, it meant she could only pull mana from it while she had direct contact, which was less than ideal in the current situation. The kraken had noticed her, it seemed. Ranthia danced and tried to maintain¡ªor, rather, regain¡ªcontact with the arcanite as she dodged the kraken¡¯s halfhearted efforts to squash her like a bug. She¡¯d tried to cut the tentacle with her ¡®free¡¯ hand, but the cheap knife chipped when it deflected off the surprisingly sturdy Coral. The lack of [Void Edge] made for a stark difference in how much of a barrier the kraken¡¯s armor skill was. Mana came to her in bursts as she managed contact for precious moments at a time. Soon enough she had images running interference and distractions. Even as she danced around the club of the tentacle. She dodged under its swipe, then had to leap over its sweep. By the time her mana was a third of the way filled, she was using her Warrior class to its full potential; Void-empowered strikes cleaved Coral out of the way in short order. When she couldn¡¯t get a hand on the arcanite, she focused her attacks, striking the same(-ish) place just beneath the tentacle¡¯s club again and again. The wound steadily deepened as she depleted her supply of knives. A burst of Steam took her left arm off below the elbow. [Combat Awareness] had actually warned her that time, but she failed to quite get clear. Ranthia just gritted her teeth and pressed on, one-armed. The wound had been seared shut, she was fine. She was channeling, yes, she wasn¡¯t stupid¡ªbut she could fight as she was for a bit longer. She was on a timer after all. The kraken clearly was aware of pain; it jerked its tentacle away every time she cut it. Which meant that sooner or later it would take her seriously. A second tentacle would be too much to evade like she had been. And if it did that¡­ Steam-powered lunge or whatever that had nearly killed her before, with how close she was, it would likely be immediately fatal. Her only saving grace was that every injury she inflicted was so minor on the scale of the beast. It wasn¡¯t something she could fell with 8 cuts. She couldn¡¯t even possibly win with 256 or 512. Frankly, she doubted even 16,000 cuts would be sufficient. Every injury she inflicted was less an injury and more of an annoyance. Given the scale of the monster, it was likely assailed by minor nuisances quite often that sought to take a bite. Its armor skill suggested as much, limiting the potential for smaller or weaker creatures to inflict harm upon it. Fortunately, her proverbial fangs were sharper than most.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Her images barely distracted it, yet she made sure to send them out elsewhere when she could spare the attention. Anything to keep its sole focus from landing on her. Finally, she was forced to shift when one of the barbed hooks caught her leg. A short(?) time later she had recovered her mana from the arcanite once again, just in time for [Combat Awareness] to warn her of an impending fatal blow. The kraken had thrown a chunk of the city wall at her! [Rhythmic Grace]¡ªnow that it was aware of the danger¡ªprovided a path of escape as Ranthia hurriedly danced across the collapsed remains of a business. A three-story business that had an exit in a lower ring of the town, closer to the water. Ranthia dropped through the rubble and rolled clear, just before the impact of the large chunk of stone threw fragments of debris into the air, along with a cloud of dust. Ranthia sprang to her feet and advanced with stealth¡ªwhich paired awfully with dancing, for some reason¡ªbefore things had even settled back down. She had mana¡ªfor the moment¡ªbut in obtaining it she¡¯d strained another resource dangerously. She was down to three knives. The only supply of them that she knew of was pretty much directly under the damned kraken. Sure, there were bound to be knives scattered about in the rubble around her. Had she had better familiarity with Massilix, there were bound to be blacksmiths in the area she could try to raid for knives. Unfortunately, everything around her was ruined to the point that there was no sense in searching for knives to scavenge¡ªthe smart play was to do the stupid thing (which perhaps proved more than anything just how focused she was; she didn¡¯t even balk at that thought). Stealth was the solution here. ¡­Or so Ranthia thought until the damned monster started to throw more rubble around. Some of it smashed into the area where she had been. Then a large chunk of granite¡ªwhy was she paying attention to the material?!¡ªgot thrown into the intact part of the city! She refused to believe that the accursed monster was destroying the city to flush her out, but the screams still spurred her into action. She was a Ranger! Her duty was to keep those idiots people safe! Ranthia threw out more images once again, as wide a range as she could manage. Her inhabited body could remain stealthy, but her images had to distract the creature! Ranthia continued to close in on the water. Her images were destroyed in bulk periodically, as a thrust of a tentacle or a burst of Steam or a thrown chunk of a building eradicated them. The creature sometimes lost interest in her, but seldom for very long, especially as she and her frequently replaced images drew nearer. By some fortune the creature seemed bestial enough to lack the sense to strike down on the area she carefully left clear of images; at this range her ability to evade was wholly dependent on how the kraken attacked. The Steam-charge would probably kill her before she could possibly react, especially since [Combat Awareness] had been blind to it. The kraken seemed to try to avoid using it regularly, much like the pulse of Darkness, which suggested the Skills had some form of downside. The kraken had to recede into the water every 800 heartbeats or so, and every time Ranthia expected to die. Yet it continued to drag itself back out of the water instead of using its Steam-charge and resume its onslaught after a short time spent mostly submerged. Paradoxically, the period while it was submerging was probably her best chance to get into the water. The churning of the water induced by its bulk would make her entry less noticeable, and she¡¯d have a bit more distance¡ªeven if the creature was more likely to see her. Ranthia reached the water and waited. The kraken began to recede. And so Ranthia swarmed its body with images, as quickly as she could produce them. Her images lacked most of her weight until she shifted into them¡ªsomething she had learned at the Academy on the sands (ignore the fact that Hunting was the one that pointed it out, she would have noticed eventually¡ªprobably). Still, she had to hope the sight of her across its body drew its attention and it was too dumb to notice that she should have been much heavier than that. Ranthia dove into the water¡ªbless Hunting¡¯s insistence on swimming in the Nostrum for training. A hurried assessment and¡­ there, near the rocks. A cracked crate with knives spilling out of it, surrounded by fragments from the wagon, with two other identical (yet intact) crates next to it. Hurriedly, she grabbed the cracked crate and one other, before she surfaced to hurl them back onto dry land. But just before she could dive back into the water for the next, suddenly she found herself pulled in deeper. It wasn¡¯t a subsurface tide though, the pulse of Darkness faded away around the kraken and the water rushed in to replace what had been erased by the attack¡ªand holy gods and goddesses, how much material was that?! Staggered by the potential mana costs of that attack, Ranthia kicked and swam until she was back to the last crate and carried it with her to sweet, solid land. She sprinted to the crates and kicked one of the intact ones open¡ªapart, arguably¡ªbefore hurriedly grabbing a handful of knives. Then she twirled away from where the crates had landed amid the rubble of what was once probably a tavern. She couldn¡¯t linger¡ªshe¡¯d be screwed if the kraken smashed the crates into a dense blob of metal, and there wasn¡¯t time to strategically place them at the moment. She restocked her belt while she moved. She hadn¡¯t grabbed enough knives to quite refill it, but it was good enough. She could pass by the crates easily enough as needed¡ªhopefully. For the moment, she was focused on the three shorter interior tentacles that were grasping for her. Ranthia danced among them as she landed cuts and slashes on the more fragile, smaller appendages. She cleaved away swaths of the coral, then focused on cutting. Where possible she tried to overlay her cuts across existing ones, deepening them. But she was also channeling, just to be safe. Her images danced along with her. She¡¯d already learned that shifting didn¡¯t foul the rhythm of her dances. If anything, her mirror images and her shifting were a part of her true dance, additional aspects to her potential rhythm that she¡¯d been denied for too long. With the images and her shifting in her repertoire once again, her dance became more complex¡ªmore chaotic. More her. It was a taste of what she could become. And all she had to do was end the kraken. Contrary to expectations, Ranthia danced until her knives were spent. Only then did she allow [Reflections of Reality] to go through its activation sequence. She shifted to an image hidden near the crates and hurriedly restocked before the kraken found her again. The battle rejoined. Ranthia went for the tentacle that the arcanite was embedded into, to resupply her mana. By the time her mana was restored, her knives were dangerously low. The alternation was to be a fact of Ranthia¡¯s life, no doubt. The sun had risen at some point, though Ranthia failed to notice. [Vision of the Void] and her narrow focus made time irrelevant. The dance was all that mattered. She remained mobile, just another Ranger amidst her images. She embraced the chaotic, manic rhythm that she embodied. Slash. Leap. Cut. Twirl. Slash. Leap. Knife thrown into an existing wound. She danced among her mirror images. They danced with her; their echoed efforts became more graceful as time passed. It all came so much more easily while she danced, it all felt so much more natural. At some point, their motions had become almost as smooth as her own, though their dances were harmless. She shifted among them, moved with them, but she was the only one that could strike a wound. Not that she controlled the battlefield. Her arm was crushed, she shifted. The merciless dance of death continued, unabated. She was delivering another slash within moments, as she fought her way for the arcanite. Ranthia was fast, she was evasive. She was deadly. The dance was the culmination of over fourteen years of combat experience (plus an unknown number of years of contextless knowledge), bolstered by training from the best warriors she had ever known. Tatius¡¯ unshakable resolve. Pupius¡¯ speed and tactics. Hunting¡¯s eye for weaknesses and flaws. Rigira¡¯s unrelenting assaults. Plus, the other lessons drilled into her in the Ranger Academy. Her prowess for the art of the dance spoke for itself. She was so much more than she had been just a few years ago. Yet the kraken was far more. It was far faster, far more dexterous, and far deadlier. The tyranny of stats was firmly against her in the battle. Yet Ranthia refused to yield. She hated the kraken to such an extreme extent that she knew she would never forgive herself if it escaped. She was outmatched, but it didn¡¯t even matter. She just cursed the thing anew and fought on with every setback. She had barely even recovered half of the mana she had spent when a blast of Steam erupted from one of its tentacles. Her legs were erased. Her sandals went with them. She hit the ground, but she shifted before the kraken could finish her off. The near miss barely even bothered her. She was getting used to agony. She was getting used to nearly dying. Instead of freaking out, she cut. The shattered remnants of an apothecary was enough of a distraction that it nearly cost her dearly. Her hip was struck by a glancing blow while she tried to look within. She was low on mana, so she used images to distract the kraken while she raided what was left of the shop. There was no time to try to parse out what most of the potions were, her eyes instead found a display of twenty mana potions. Ranthia hobbled to it and drank two on the spot (no, she had not missed the taste), before she swept the rest of the wax-sealed seashells into a sack she found. She had just enough time to leave the sack in a hopefully-safe location before she could finally shift to a body without a fractured hip and/or leg. The dance was rejoined yet again. Pain was irrelevant. She took injuries so often the pain had just kind of become background noise, like the backdrop of the devastation in the city. Just another misfortune. She dodged and avoided, but the kraken was too fast and now that she had its attention, its attacks were too precise. Injuries came practically every several breaths. That was fine, she just had to hurt it more. A slash made with practically every breath meant she was still winning. Not that the calculus involved made a whit of sense. The dance. Shifting. Slashing. These simple actions were her world. The only interruption was when she had to recharge her mana or gather more knives, only then did her world grow. Only while she was pursuing one or the other did she bother throwing her knives; it went through her limited carrying capacity too swiftly. Armor was lost as she was wounded and broken. It was irrelevant. At some point she¡¯d lost her quiver, though she didn¡¯t care¡ªshe had discarded the bow before Leoios had even died. Her belt was the only thing that mattered at that point; she needed it to carry her knives. If the kraken had realized that her increasing amount of skin bared to the world identified which image she inhabited, it had enough cunning to not let her know that it had realized as much. It was an irrelevant what-if to worry about. For now, her images worked as distractions. The sun lowered in the sky, unheeded by either combatant. More knives. More pain. More cutting. The dance continued. Ranthia couldn¡¯t even spare the attention to appreciate just how absurd the wagon¡¯s arcanite was¡ªthe stone embedded in the kraken¡¯s tentacle had yet to even dim any further than it had been when she started. She was focused on trying to land more blows on the oversized tentacle near the fleshy club every chance she got. If she could just free it¡­ Ranthia fought the tentacles among the ruins in the city. She wounded them and bled the beast. The kraken learned its lesson, paid in blood and dismemberments. By the time it stopped sending its more vulnerable, smaller tentacles at her, one of them was all but unresponsive and at least four others were severely wounded. Those were the easy ones. The two massive tentacles with the clubs on them were far more resilient. And far more powerful. Ranthia and the beast inflicted suffering on one another as best as they knew how. The cuts she inflicted on the creature steadily deepened. It tore at her over and over. Ranthia had to keep her channel up at all times, the headache barely acknowledged; it was just another piece of her brutal dance with death. Mortal wounds were the same as crippling wounds¡ªthey required an urgent shift to a fresh image before she perished. Nothing more, nothing less. The stock of stolen mana potions was gone well before she inflicted her first serious wound on the kraken beneath the moonlight: at long last she severed the fleshy club the arcanite was embedded within. Resupplying her mana became mildly less fraught, though the arcanite becoming immobilized had its own risk. She had to time things carefully, to avoid the arcanite getting buried¡ªor shattered¡ªby a thrown chunk of heavy rubble. Without it, she had no hope of victory. Gods how she wished she had it attuned to her though, it would have made her battle far less deadly. The kraken became far more wary. It seemed disinclined to let any of its tentacles near her. Thank Xaoc, it was exactly what she¡¯d hoped for. Ranthia waited for it to be in the process of rising from the water, then threw an image on its main body and shifted. The beast was reclined enough from its efforts to immerse itself in the briny water that Ranthia was able to run straight up to one of its gargantuan eyeballs. Mercilessly, she slashed as rapidly as she could manage while she channeled. Knife after knife disintegrated as she ensured she had completely destroyed the functionality of the surprisingly robust eye. Two of the more intact smaller tentacles came for her. One of the serrated suckers caught her while she channeled, but she was able to escape to another image before the beast could dismantle her. Her mortal foe had become more wary, more defensive. It protected its remaining eye desperately. Suddenly it was willing to risk its tentacles again. The sun rose once again to the continuing violence. More cutting. More knives consumed by the Void she wielded. More pale kraken blood spilled. More dancing. More shifting. More endured suffering. The crowd in the intact majority of the city went ignored as people came and went. For some, life went on. For her, devastation was her only companion as she and the kraken sought to return one another to Samsara¡¯s embrace. One of the shorter tentacles was severed near the shoreline. The large tentacle that still had its club was next; one of her cut points finally got enough depth that the remaining muscle¡ªor whatever that stuff was¡ªhad insufficient resilience to support the weight. At that, the kraken seemed to recoil from her again. Ranthia wasted no time; her mana was full enough. She threw an image onto the slippery rocks near the kraken and shifted to it. The monster was upright, which limited her options. Instead, she began to hurl knives as fast as she could. Desperate for every advantage she could get, she tried to accept any General Skill on offer that might support her knife throwing prowess at such range. [Sustained Chaos] clearly leveled even as she threw her increasingly potent and accurate knives. Most found their mark. And, just before Ranthia was forced to dive off the rock and into the saltwater, the eye succumbed to her onslaught. The monster was blinded! For the first time, Ranthia dared to hope for victory. And then the kraken dove into the water. Fury coursed through her¡ªthe damned thing thought she was going to let it escape?! After all of that?! Rage and hatred birthed stupidity, and Ranthia dove in after it. Had the kraken been intact she would have never caught up. Fortunately for her, the damage to its tentacles seemed to slow it down. That or it had no idea how to swim blind. For whatever reason, she was able to reach it. The only problem was she only had four knives left. The beast¡¯s anatomy was a complete mystery to her, and [Flowing Momentum] gave her no indication of where to attack to maximize her few remaining knives. On instinct, on whim, or perhaps some subtle guidance from her Skills¡ªRanthia made her choice. [Void Edge] consumed more mana than it ever had before. [Echoes of Devastation] too. But she unleashed four slashes in rapid succession, directly on the odd spigot-looking thing that seemed to be blasting out water under pressure. The organ tore and shredded. She had been focused on her own attack. Both she and [Combat Awareness] missed the warning signs¡ªor perhaps the kraken had learned and suppressed them. The Dark energy attack washed over the kraken¡¯s body a heartbeat after Ranthia¡¯s final knife was spent. The attack landed. She was repulsed from the kraken¡¯s body, even as her own body was eaten at and devastated by the attack. Thank Xaoc she had been channeling. She was even luckier that she had blinded the kraken, there was no way it would have missed its opportunity to finish her off otherwise. [Reflections of Reality] wasn¡¯t an instant Skill, even once it was fully charged with mana. She was only barely in range of the mirror image she had left near the shore, but barely was good enough. Ranthia found herself back in the body and gasped desperately for air. She needed to think; she had to figure out another way to go after the damned monster¡ªit was still going to get away! The kraken surfaced, its tentacles grasping desperately at the rocks and reefs near the shore. A bitter, relieved laugh escaped Ranthia¡¯s lips, and the dance began anew¡ªonce she restocked her knives and charged her mana. Day turned back to night once again. But the stalemate was done. She had crippled her opponent, after all. It was still deadly and capable of ending her in a moment of carelessness, but weariness was held back by adrenaline and raw¡ªand no doubt increasing¡ªstats. Ranthia continued to fight at her best. Other tentacles were severed or crippled one after another. With the kraken down to a single primary tentacle¡ªone that she¡¯d already severed the club from¡ªher momentum was greater than ever. The kraken was blind. It was bleeding. It was dying. The Dark surges had stopped. The blasts of Steam had grown rare. No Coral grew on its flesh and the few segments it had left were flaking off on their own. Its mana was clearly gone. But a dying animal seldom just gave up. The struggle continued. Things had become easier for Ranthia, but no less deadly. Until, at long last, she was able to shift back onto its body after she charged her mana one last time and restocked her knives. The momentum of the battle finally called her back to where she could do the most harm. Shift. Slash. Prance. Slash. Pirouette. Slash. Twirl. Slash. Shift. Slash. Ranthia was a whirl of devastation. She savaged an odd organ that she found beneath the strange hood that covered the top of the kraken. Then she went for one of its eyes again, and pressed her attack there, carving deeper and deeper into the kraken as it struggled to try to dislodge her. It was impossible to miss that it was weakening. [*ding!* You have slain a [Kraken] (Coral, level 789), [Kraken] (Steam, level 707), [Kraken] (Dark, level 549)!] Her foe stopped moving, just like that. Ranthia continued to attack for a brief time, confused. There had been no final, decisive blow. Just another cut like a hundred thousand others. She hadn¡¯t even gotten that deep into the eye; she doubted she had reached anything crucial. Not every battle had an epic finale, she decided. The knives she had drawn tumbled from her hands. She wanted nothing more than to just collapse. Her body and mind formally registered their litany of complaints with her the instant she settled out of the mindset of urgent combat. She stayed on her feet though. Her duty had never been to the kraken, after all. Her duty had been to Ranger Team 13. She had to recover their supplies and the items that proved their existence before divers and treasure hunters could loot any of it. Ranthia swallowed her thirst, hunger, exhaustion, and the agony her head reported. With effort, she forced her body to start moving again. She dove into the water once again. First, she located and hauled a suitable crate out of the water. One that was long and large. She set it down on mostly flat ground, where a dock had once stood. It was filled with mundane tools, which she discarded. She needed the space. Her mind felt like mush and her body begged her to stop. She pushed her weakness aside and focused on her duty. Her last crate of knives was retrieved. She restocked her belt¡ªcivilians were approaching and those eager for loot might need to be discouraged. Then, unceremoniously, she dumped what few remained into the long crate and discarded the broken crate that had housed them. Ranthia submerged briefly, then went back to the surface for her next stop, wielding a short sword that she had spotted. With a nontrivial amount of effort, even aided by the short sword, she eventually hacked the large chunk of arcanite out of the severed massive club of the tentacle. She dropped the short sword and hauled the precious arcanite back to her long crate. The sun rose as the guard and a few braver citizens approached the deceased kraken. There they saw a nearly nude Ranger, wearing just the tattered remaining bits of her armor, diving into the ocean. She stayed down until some crate or chest or such popped up. She hauled her retrieved goods over the slippery rocks, even those soaked in kraken blood, with ease and dropped it into her crate. After a brief bit of whispering, one of the city guard finally approached her¡ªhaving failed to get out of the duty. She ordered him to guard her crate and its contents with his life. Something about her dead, dark tone¡ªor possibly her terrifying eyes¡ªmade him salute and take position. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was an act of pure gratitude to the Ranger that saved¡­ a considerable percentage of his city. Ranthia felt detached as she continued to salvage everything she could of Ranger Team 13. Everything that mattered. It all fit into a single crate that reminded her entirely too much of a coffin every time she looked at it. It was made worse by her idle thoughts. She shouldn¡¯t have won that fight. Once rage and hate left her¡ªshe was too exhausted to even hate herself any longer¡ªher mind finally grappled with the obvious. If she had to redo the fight against the damned kraken, there was a very real chance that she¡¯d fail, even knowing how she won this time. Gods and goddesses, if she fought the monster a thousand and twenty four times, there were probably only a handful of times she won among all the outcomes. She had been stupid to press the battle. The kraken was dead. Massilix¡ªmost of it¡ªwas saved. Hu-fucking-zzah. Her team was still dead. What good had she even done? At last she was done with her task. Her past four dives had turned up nothing else worth salvaging. She dismissed her morbid collection of forgotten mirror images, including two that she had been forced to abandon during her dives when she tried to stay under for too long. Then, for the first time, tried to shift back to her true body. Thank Xaoc, it was still there. That success drained some of the tension and the last of her strength. Her real body was safe. Bruised, battered (fuck her leg still bothered her from when she kicked the door down), but safe. There had been a very real chance that it wouldn¡¯t have been intact. Painfully and weakly, she slowly walked back out then back down to her crate and shut it with a final effort. Then, lacking any better ideas, she crawled on top of the crate and¡ªat long last¡ªallowed herself to succumb to her own weakness. Her exhausted mind was entirely unable to make any sense out of her notifications when she checked them, and soon she blacked out into something that was somewhere between sleep and raw unconsciousness. [*ding!* Congratulations! [She who Dances with Chaos] has leveled up from 260 to level 301! Per level: +100 Strength, +100 Dexterity, +100 Vitality, +100 Speed, +8 Mana, +8 Mana Regeneration, +5 Magic Power, +5 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +2 Mana from your element.] [*ding!* [Rhythmic Grace], [Void Edge], [Flowing Momentum], [Echoes of Devastation], [Divine-Touched Identify], and [Ranger¡¯s Lore] have leveled from 260 to level 301!] [*ding!* [Void Affinity] has leveled from 260 to level 293!] [*ding!* [Vision of the Void] has leveled from 58 to level 101!] [*ding!* [Sustained Chaos] has leveled from 4 to level 59!] [*ding!* [True Grace] has leveled from 27 to level 88!] [*ding!* [Reflective Motility] has leveled from 248 to level 256!] [*ding!* [Mirrored Moves] has leveled from 63 to 101!] [*ding!* [Reflections of Reality] has leveled from 63 to 119!] [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has leveled from 65 to level 88!] [*ding!* You have obtained the General Skill [Knife Throwing]!] [*ding!* [Knife Throwing] has leveled from 1 to level 59!] [*ding!* Your Skill [Knife Throwing] has merged into [Sustained Chaos]!] [*ding!* [Combat Awareness] has leveled from 260 to level 295!] [*ding!* [Fast Learner] has leveled from 210 to level 220!] [*ding!* [Sexy] has reached level 211!] Book 1 - Chapter 48 - Ranger Versus Route I It was daytime when Ranthia woke up. It was kind of hard to miss the fact when she barely cracked her eyes open and got an eyeful of the sun itself hanging above. She had to resist the ridiculous impulse to hiss at it, like a peeved cat¡ªthe impulse was easier to resist since she was already keenly aware that she was surrounded. Four guards seem to have stood, well, guard over her. The fact that someone had covered her with a blanket without her even noticing freaked her out more than a little. That absolutely hadn¡¯t been there when she fell asleep after¡ª She absolutely wasn¡¯t awake enough to remember that, and she struggled to quash the train of thought. Okay, that was partially a lie. She kind of felt amazing? She sat up slowly, hugging the surprisingly soft blanket to herself. Only to have one of the guards immediately hold a tunic¡ªa men¡¯s tunic, which was surprisingly thoughtful¡ªout to her. The guards immediately picked up large stretches of cloth¡ªsalvaged sails, one of them explained¡ªto screen her while she changed. Which meant Ranthia was finally able to go over the damage to her gear. Her Ranger armor was¡­ basically trash at that point. Almost the entire front was gone, as was part of the back. ¡­And almost the entire skirt. Honestly, it was kind of a miracle that the remnants of the armor hadn¡¯t just fallen off of her while she fought; the belt was providing most of the support for it. Which meant that she had basically been traipsing about completely naked. In a city. Which made her seriously side-eye the level in [Sexy]. ¡­And yes, sure enough¡ªgodsdamnit¡ªit leveled after the fight was complete, likely when people approached her. Her belt was in better shape, though it had suffered more than a bit too. Two of her pouches were half missing, their contents lost. Another was just outright not there and she had no idea where it was lost. At least the pouch her blindfold had been in was one of the survivors; she planned to put it back on once she was dressed. She wasn¡¯t ready to confront what had happened, but she turned her attention to the level notifications. That was easier. [Reflective Motility] was finally capped¡ªnot even a little surprising, she¡¯d manipulated countless images throughout the fight. [Mirrored Moves] got its first workout since she lost [Blades of Darkness], as part of her desperation to make the kraken focus on her images more. [Reflections of Reality] got its first several levels in¡ªholy Xaoc that was 56 levels! [Reflections of Reality] had always been one of her most stubborn skills to level! It really hammered in just how stupid she had been to fight the damned oceanic monster. ¡­Especially since [She who Dances with Chaos] leveled 41 times. Gods and goddesses, level gains past 200 were supposed to be slow. Level 300 was something she hadn¡¯t expected to reach for another 8 years! Some of Remus¡¯ best veterans were roughly her level now. Her spiral of thoughts slammed into an obvious counterpoint. Hunting wasn¡¯t young, but he was a realm higher. Ocean was probably older than Hunting, maybe. Night looked younger than Hunting¡ªwell, maybe; the off-putting, pale man was hard to get a bead on. The Sentinels, humanity¡¯s elite, were beyond reason. And that kraken had been higher than any of them. Her aspirations couldn¡¯t be measured against men and women that thought dying of old age at half her level was a life well-lived. Twice the common ¡®maximum¡¯ level in Remus wasn¡¯t her goal. Level 424 wasn¡¯t her goal. Even 512 wasn¡¯t truly her goal. Ranthia¡¯s gaze had already drifted toward 768. Maybe even 1024. So long as she actually survived. The levels to [She who Dances with Chaos]¡¯s Skills were largely unsurprising. Most of the capped ones stayed capped. [Void Affinity] and [Combat Awareness]¡ªstill a General Skill, weirdly¡ªwere the exceptions, but she had leveled absurdly rapidly from doing something stupid, so things falling off a bit wasn¡¯t too surprising, especially since [Combat Awareness] had been outmatched at several points. [Vision of the Void]¡¯s gains briefly seemed low, but logically she wasn¡¯t truly competing with the kraken¡¯s own obscuring Skill, it was a passive effect. There was no Skill-vs-Skill clash, and the kraken¡¯s stats almost certainly hadn¡¯t been behind the effect since she saw through it so easily. ¡­And fair odds the Dark Steam had disappeared at some point unnoticed. Beyond that, she hadn¡¯t done much with [Vision of the Void] throughout the fight. [True Grace] was already looking like it''d be stubborn to level, but that was fine¡ªmaybe the Skill had something to do with why she felt so great physically after her rest? [Sustained Chaos] was a pretty big winner, and sure enough she had managed to grab a fairly generic General Skill to support it there when she blinded the kraken. The fact that the skill already merged in was a nice bonus, it freed the slot up again. As for her [Covenant], now that her head was a bit clearer it was¡­ kind of obvious that it hadn¡¯t shot up because Xaoc inexplicably wanted the kraken dead. ¡­It probably had more to do with the chaos that played out in the city, and her long battle against the kraken. She hadn¡¯t thought she could fight for so long, but the fact that she started the battle with 4289 vitality and now had nearly doubled it up to 8389 probably explained a lot. And yeah, there was a lot she learned during that fight, and a lot more she would discover once she was ready to process it properly. Not that she at all looked forward to it. Once she was dressed and ready one of the guards ran off, so Ranthia busied herself with people watching while she needled the guards for information. People were swarming over the carcass of the kraken¡ªheh, krarkass¡ªwhich was under the influence of dozens of skills as the specialists desperately tried to stave off the inevitability of rot while they broke it down (now that it was dead, their puny efforts sliced it up with far more ease than she had while its vitality applied). Which wasn¡¯t surprising, Massilix was renowned for scavenging monster carcasses after a storm. What was surprising was that she had been asleep for a bit better than a full day. They¡¯d even had a [Healer] fix her up, out of concern over how long she¡¯d been asleep. Which explained why she felt so great and why her head and leg had stopped aching. Also, the town was grateful, and its governor was on his way to meet with her. No good deed went unpunished, Ranthia groused inwardly. At least the waterskin filled with 1 part wine to 8 parts water and some herbs was actually surprisingly delicious and refreshing. That or she was just that thirsty. It was a struggle to not let herself gulp it dry in short order. The governor showed up with an entourage, gave a speech, and made a grand showing of handing Ranthia a bag with a few items that had been turned in. The majority was junk, namely several destroyed knives that she had expended, but there were also the recovered Ranger badges. Her own (when had that fallen off?), Republius¡¯, and Hail¡¯s were intact. Secundia¡¯s, Leoios¡¯, Penticus¡¯, and Mettlea¡¯s were either partial or crushed almost beyond recognition. Pibius¡¯ hadn¡¯t been found yet. Ranthia just stood there with impatience plainly writ upon her face, though she pinned her badge onto her tunic. At least after he left someone saw fit to offer her a large serving of food, cooked from the kraken that she had slain. Eating what she fought had always made sense to her, and she relished the dishes more than most. Kraken wasn¡¯t half bad, even if it was kind of chewy. Ranthia considered what she wanted to do next. She was dimly tempted to class up [Shards of Reflection] and see what her Mirror class could evolve into¡­ but she just couldn¡¯t muster any enthusiasm for it. She had spent the governor¡¯s entire speech ignoring him and fantasizing about just deserting her duties, returning to Ariminum, kissing Hexara, and refusing to ever leave her side again. But no. She had stood there and watched her team die. Most of them had a love for the good that their team did. Her guilt was enough of a motivator to continue what they had left undone¡ªthe remainder of their route. Now it was her route. That¡­ that seemed right. Ranthia picked up the crate once she was done eating, barely even noticing how easy it had become to lift so much weight. She carried it to the nearest guard station¡ªstopped by people that wanted to thank her every few steps, as if she did anything worthy of gratitude¡ªthen changed into her old Adventurer¡¯s armor. There were three spare sets of Ranger armor, but none of them were sized for her; they had been sized for Leoios, Republius, Mettlea, and Penticus¡ªburly men. After all, why would they keep armors sized for those that had drastically different builds when Republius could alter them with ease if they needed? Pibius had been tall and thin, Hail had been short and squat, and Secundia¡¯s chest had been the stuff of a younger Ranthia¡¯s dreams. At any rate, the spare Ranger armor didn¡¯t fit her, and she didn¡¯t have the expertise to adjust it herself. Ill-fitting armor was a death sentence. It was better to wear gear she could count on and knew how to adjust¡ªthough it¡¯d been over a year since she last put it on; it needed a little work. With that done, she pinned on her Ranger badge, then asked around for rope until someone gave her way too much. It was a good, stout rope that was usually used for ships. Not anything they needed at the moment, the man insisted. Ranthia ultimately accepted it and lashed the crate onto her back. She was ready to move on. She had done everything that she could for Massilix, and sitting behind a desk while men and women thanked her for her heroics sounded like a special breed of punishment. She should be condemned for letting her team die. Leoios had failed them, yes, but she had too. She needed to get back on the road. Perinthus turned out to be a 4-day journey from Massilix by foot. It really put it into stark relief how damned slow the wagon had been. That would have likely taken at least three weeks with the whole team¡ª ¡­Another thought process that she mercilessly killed, lest she start thinking it was a good thing that she had failed seven people who trusted her with their lives. Her dread for her return to her hometown had faded. In her memories the town had always been grey and dark. But it had recovered from the plagues. Once again, it thrived and traded fresh bounties of the jungle and fruits from its orchards with the rest of Remus. It hardly seemed recognizable, not that she had spent much of her life in Perinthus following her rebirth. Still, it was vibrant. Vibrant was good. Getting into town proved strangely difficult. Yes, she was a Ranger. Note the badge. Ranger Team 13, continuing its round despite losses. Really, the idiot guards should know the Ranger rounds, they literally never changed as far as she knew! Finally, they let her in. She set up her banner and sat on her crate, in lieu of a proper table. She had no need to requisition one and she needed to protect her crate, so the situation worked. It was clearly good enough, because people actually approached her. Several reports and concerns raised later; it was clear that there was a real problem. Purple Flower use was skyrocketing. Which was great! Investigating a drug problem felt normal. Perfectly Ranger-y. It was just what she needed. Ranthia lashed her crate to her back again, then set out to investigate. She spoke to people; including a few familiar faces that never even showed a glimmer of recognition (not that she was entirely surprised, mind). No substantive information that furthered her investigation was forthcoming for the first two days. It was a bit frustrating, honestly, but Ranthia persevered. In the end, it was a Purple Flower user on the third day that gave her the best tip. He kept muttering that the temple¡ªnamely the one where the [Healers] had set up to combat the plagues when she was a kid¡ªhad become a temple to Purple Flowers. It was easy to write him off, but it was the only lead she had¡ªshe chose to check it out.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. To prepare, she used some of the last of her personal coin (sure, she had access to the team funds now by default, but¡­) to buy a bunch of cheap roughspun cloth that would be used for sacks for vegetables usually, along with some nails. The smaller crates and chests were nailed into place within the large crate and then she shifted items around and then stuffed the roughspun in until nothing rattled anymore. It would make her life much more frustrating every time she needed to get into things, but at least she couldn¡¯t be heard from half a town away. That night she climbed up the wall of the temple¡ªand accepted the General Skill [Climbing] when it popped up. She had no plans to keep it, but it would help her that night. It wasn¡¯t like she had any better use for an empty General Skill slot, not that a low level Skill helped much. She was surprisingly stealthy and silent on her feet thanks to the Skills that had merged into [Rhythmic Grace], at least. A high window was her way in, after that she carefully moved through the temple and investigated, trusting her senses to keep her from getting caught. The temple seemed to be far, far richer than it had been when she was a child. Tapestries hung on the walls. Carpets and rugs were often underfoot. New paint. Rich dyes on the priest¡¯s robes. Worse, the opulence increased when she got into areas of the temple that didn¡¯t allow regular visitors. By the time she found proof, she was unable to muster even the tiniest hint of surprise. It was hard to imagine a more blatant display of wrongness. As she had almost expected by that point, within the temple was a room full of planters with Purple Flowers growing out of them. Skills made indoor farming operations easy, they probably didn¡¯t even need more than one corrupted acolyte to tend to them. But that wasn¡¯t the worst part of the whole thing, no. The worst part was the room that was used. It was the room that lived on in Ranthia¡¯s first memories. The room that the lovely young [Healer]¡ªthe woman that became Sentinel Dawn¡ªhad used when she healed scores of people, saved countless lives. Including Ranthia¡¯s own. And the bastards had turned it into a drug den. The captain of the guard found Ranthia in his office as soon as he got in. The man was obviously still drowsy and a bit hung over from the night before. To be fair to him it was still that amorphous period of time where you could say it was both late at night and early in the morning. To be unfair to him, Ranthia was in a bit of a foul mood, and he had kept her waiting for quite some time. Ranthia tugged her blindfold off and stuffed it into a pouch on her belt. She glared at the man while she approached him; her chest puffed out to make her Ranger badge prominent. [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Intimidating]! Would you like to replace a skill with [Intimidating]?] Ranthia almost could have smiled; it was rare for the System to have her back, but she always appreciated it when it happened. She accepted the skill, replacing [Climbing], and barely even noticed the tiny bit of nausea that resulted from losing a very low-level skill. Ranthia activated the new skill and leaned forward to glare at the captain of the guard. ¡°Tell me you and your people are not on the take from the Purple Flower business in town.¡± Ranthia ordered. He wasn¡¯t, or he was a better liar than Ranthia gave him credit for. He was just incompetent; she could work with incompetence. He was certain that the Purple Flower was getting into the city through smugglers using (likely fictional) tunnels dug during the plagues that had afflicted the town back when he was just a low-level guard. The guard under his command hadn¡¯t investigated the rise in Purple Flower incidents because he didn¡¯t want to tip the smugglers off that he was on to them. That was his excuse, but a trusted member of the guard¡ªan Earth [Mage]¡ªwas hoping to get a class upgrade at level 128 ¡®any day now¡¯ that would let them collapse these alleged tunnels on the smugglers¡¯ heads. The man looked so godsdamned proud of himself as he announced his plan to the Ranger. Ranthia buried her face in her palms. ¡°Just gather two dozen of your finest guardsmen, I found the growing site.¡± She ordered. Thank Xaoc, he had enough sense not to ask questions and scurried off instead. Dawn was coloring the sky by the time the guards were finally ready, but at last Ranthia marched up to the temple with the guards. The captain followed like an ineffectual baby chick, second-guessing everything they did. Some of the other guards balked, but most saw the angry, [Intimidating] Ranger with terrifying eyes¡ªno, she had not put her blindfold back on¡ªand followed orders. Once Ranthia led them past the increasingly obviously terrified [Priests] and other temple staff to the Purple Flower grow room things changed rapidly. Suddenly everyone was on board with the mission. [Priests] and [Acolytes] and more were arrested. Contraband was found and seized. The investigation took a bit more than a week, which put Ranthia even further behind. It was a bit surprising that another Ranger Team hadn¡¯t arrived yet, honestly. In the end, every single [Priest], [Acolyte], and other person involved with the temple ended up guilty of being part of the drug ring. Their excuse was that donations to the temple had fallen off after the plague¡ªPerinthus had largely started worshipping the System, since the gods hadn¡¯t saved them¡ªand things looked bleak for the temple¡¯s future. One of the [Priests] even vocally blamed a [Healer] that gave away free healing as the reason that people stopped seeing a need to donate money to the temple, which very, very nearly netted him a broken face. Xaoc damn it all, it was obviously just a crisis of faith from the lack of divine intervention during the plagues coupled with the fact that the city had been bled dry on food, goods, and coin by the end. An [Acolyte] started growing Purple Flower in his little cubby of a room to sell and brought coin to the temple through that. A year later, a [Priest] found out and¡ªinstead of showing a whit of sense¡ªpartnered with the [Acolyte]. Slowly, over the intervening years they brought more and more of the temple¡¯s personnel on board with their plan. They saved the temple. Then they began to upgrade it a little, because it was a bit worn. Then before they knew it, the lot of them had gotten addicted to the sweet life of wealth. They justified it as the gods didn¡¯t seem to be punishing them, so they must have had permission. The head [Priest] looked so horrifically smug while he made that excuse. It was far too much to take. Once he folded his hands over his lap, so confident and so certain, Ranthia smiled coldly to the man. Once again, she removed her blindfold¡­ and let [Intimidating] work its magic. ¡°Xaoc sent me.¡± She stated in a cold tone. It was¡­ true enough, and she hated the man¡¯s attitude. At least he had the good sense to start crying when her words truly sank in. He wasn¡¯t getting out of this by claiming some divine favour. Not on her watch. He and the rest would pay for their heresy. At last, Ranthia repacked her crate and made her way out of Perinthus. She ultimately never bothered to seek out anyone that knew her, even though she saw a few more familiar faces. Even some of the¡­ young adults her own age that she spoke to had, no doubt, been among those that played with whomever Ranthia had been before she was reborn into Ranthia¡¯s body. Ultimately, she just felt no real need to try to reconnect with people that she never truly knew. Plus, the investigation had taken so long, and she was still a bit behind schedule even before it¡ªno matter how fast she travelled the road through the Kadan jungle. Also there was the tiny fact that she had been in a foul mood before she arrived in Perinthus, and the entire ordeal had made it significantly worse. Overall though, yes, it was time for her to move on to the next town. Winter would arrive soon, after all. Ranthia had fallen into a vicious cycle. She was in her own head and bogged down in self-loathing, so she tried to lose herself in tasks. Yet being a Ranger meant there were stretches of days at a time where there was little to keep her attention. The road was only so interesting, after all. Which meant she got more focused on her self-loathing and had to focus even harder to find tasks to mitigate it. Her mood got worse and worse over time, as was usual with her mood spirals. They tended to last until something happened to make her feel some other emotion. A catalyst that began the slow process to recover from it. This time, that catalyst came in the form of a nightmare. An incredibly idiotic nightmare. She dreamt that her skills [Sexy] and [Intimidating] merged into something that had some variations of the words Sexy and Monstrous in its name¡ªshe couldn¡¯t quite recall the specifics after she woke up. But she remembered the Skill¡¯s effect. Namely that her head transformed into this chitinous, scaly black thing with massive fangs and an ever-growing mouth, while her body¡¯s curves grew to outrageous and hilarious proportions which included the largest breasts ever seen. During the nightmare it had been horrifying beyond her ability to convey. Then she woke up in her campsite and immediately sat bolt upright¡ªcovered in a thick sheen of cold sweat¡ªwhile she struggled to catch her breath and felt at her face and body to confirm that she was normal. She was okay, she was fine. Shortly after she got over her initial panic, she collapsed into a helpless, uproarious laughing fit that refused to quit. The dream had unnerved her badly, yes. But now that she was awake? That was the funniest, most bizarre crap she could even imagine! Beneath the pale light of the waning moons, she allowed herself to just laugh and feel. She finally let go of some of the guilt and tension that she had carried since Massilix, freed by laughter at the stupidest stress-inflicted dream she had ever experienced. ¡­That said, she did decide to whistle while she waited for the sun to rise, until she got offered the General Skill for [Whistling] and eagerly replaced [Intimidating] with it. After all, why tempt fate? That morning, she decided to do some hunting for the bounty of the woodlands and made a stew out of some of the local wildlife¡ªno rabbit, unfortunately¡ªand wild vegetation. It wasn¡¯t a large stew, just a little individual pot like she used to make as a solo Adventurer. The fresh, warm food helped her feel even more like herself again.
[Name: Ranthia]
[Species: Human]
[Age: 22]
[Mana: 31600/31600]
[Mana Regen Rate: 296]
[Stats:]
[Free Stats: 0]
[Strength: 5903]
[Dexterity: 8839]
[Vitality: 8389]
[Speed: 7989]
[Mana: 3160]
[Mana Regeneration: 4471]
[Magic Power: 2252]
[Magic Control: 2168]
[Class 1: [Shards of Reflection ¨C Mirror (256)] + ]
[Mirror Spirit: 256]
[Scattered Reflections: 256]
[Echoes Reflected: 119]
[Reflective Motility: 256]
[Persistent Imagery: 256]
[Mirrored Moves: 101]
[Distorted Likeness: 88]
[Reflections of Reality: 119]
[Class 2: [She who Dances with Chaos ¨C Void (301)]]
[Void Affinity: 293]
[Rhythmic Grace: 301]
[Void Edge: 301]
[Flowing Momentum: 301]
[Vision of the Void: 101]
[Sustained Chaos: 59]
[Echoes of Devastation: 301]
[True Grace: 88]
[Class 3: Locked]
[General Skills:]
[Divine-Touched Identify: 301]
[Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 88]
[Ranger¡¯s Lore: 301]
[Whistling: 2]
[Combat Awareness: 295]
[Fast Learner: 220]
[Image Recall: 172]
[Sexy: 211]
Book 1 - Chapter 49 - Ranger Versus Route II Ranthia felt much more like herself as she continued Ranger Team 13¡¯s round. More than a few cities and towns seemed to struggle with the concept of a solo Ranger on foot, but no one pushed their challenge. One major benefit to being [Warrior]-tagged was she no longer had to ¡®blow her mana¡¯ before she was allowed to enter any town. Not that she had ever reduced her mana much as she got older, but the ridiculous process was required to make the guards happy back when she was [Mage]-tagged. Though honestly, now that they just waved her through, she had even less respect for the inane process. Having a non-[Mage] class wasn¡¯t exactly unheard of! Pretty much every decent-sized town mandated that she had to let a [Healer] poke her before they let her in, of course. But that bothered her less, even if she did have to step in to restrain an angry villager and let them screen him before the idiot got himself killed outside one town. Each town she arrived in, she claimed space near the guard facilities to perch atop her crate with the Ranger banner hung up. Being solo meant she had to man the ¡®desk¡¯ to see what problems she could help with. Strictly speaking, she helped with numerous things she shouldn¡¯t have bothered with as a Ranger, but even the little tasks helped someone. And doing a bit of good helped offset some of the guilt she still carried. She felt better, but she wasn¡¯t absolved. Not yet. In one town she helped the local guard take out a rogue would-be classer who had decided that murdering travellers was the ticket to whatever his goals had been¡ªRanthia had knifed him while he was monologuing. After that, she helped a little boy find and retrieve his lost kitten. In another city the only thing she accomplished was that she spoke to a young person that hated their female body. She talked to them about short hairstyles and her favorite styles of men¡¯s tunics. She talked to them about how to hold their posture and body in a more masculine manner (hey, look at that, the time she wasted on her Amaus mirror image paid off a little). She also gave them advice on classes that might help them see something different in the mirror. They seemed to feel better by the end, not that Ranthia truly changed anything about their life. She loved being a woman, but she wasn¡¯t quite so narrow-minded as to believe that others had to follow suit. Everyone had their own ideals and comfort. The advice she gave was the most she could offer, but the youth had her support. There was one city where she was unable to help, at least not directly. They didn¡¯t need a single, powerful classer. They needed a prolonged program to help them reduce the number of predators¡ªmonsters and beasts, this time¡ªin the area. Instead, she helped them set up a bounty system with the local chapter of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, bolstered by the mark the Ariminum Guildmaster had given her to increase payouts. ¡­Not, strictly speaking, exactly what he meant it to be used for, but she suspected he would be fine with it in this situation. Probably. If not, that was his problem. In another tiny town there was nothing they really needed her help with, but they asked her to lead their morning town exercises while she was there. She had more fun than she expected with that and helped several people with their forms and routine. It was a cute little showing of community. Almost every town, she stayed a little longer than she was supposed to. There was just so much she could do to improve people¡¯s lives, and every positive mark helped balance out her shortcomings. She strived to make it up on the roads, but this left her almost chronically behind schedule. Every time she started to even things back out, a bigger delay held her up for a little longer. She also went through sandals at an alarming rate. She had wildly underestimated how well-made her Ranger-issued sandals had been. Civilian ones hated her dancing motions and broke constantly. She was forced to dig into Ranger Team 13¡¯s coin stores meant for team use, since her personal funds were depleted. She refused to count what was left, she didn¡¯t want to deal with the what-if. If it ran out¡­ well, she adamantly refused to touch the stored away remaining personal coin of any of her fallen teammates. Spring returned. She celebrated by spending two weeks trying to hunt down a dinosaur that had terrorized the area. When she finally found and killed it, the beast was only level 214. It wasn¡¯t even a fight; she ended the battle within moments, at the cost of three of her dwindling supply of knives. It was an anticlimactic finale to a remarkably frustrating hunt through rain that seemed to refuse to quit. Once again, she was behind schedule. Ranthia¡¯s 23rd birthday came while she literally carried a young woman back to the town she had left prior to reaching the city she met the woman in. The woman had just learned that her childhood best friend was very pregnant with twins and would soon give birth, alone. Her husband had died¡ªor cheated on her and left and/or was killed over it; the story changed a few times while they journeyed. This young woman desperately wanted to get back to her friend but couldn¡¯t afford to hire anyone to take her to such a small town. Ranthia helped her for two reasons. The first was that no one should be alone and left unsupported due to the actions of someone else. The second, of course, was that she could easily tell that the young woman she assisted had¡­ feelings for her childhood friend. So yes, Ranthia felt like a matchmaking heroine from a [Bard]¡¯s tale as she ran the roads, carrying a total stranger in her arms! The thought raised questions that she quashed, of course. Yes, she was aware and¡ªmore or less¡ªaccepted that she was probably in [Bard] songs again. A certain piece of her was curious about what the songs were like, but she also knew that¡ªat best¡ªthe songs would be bittersweet for her to hear. It was all but impossible to have much enthusiasm for the prospect. And, yes, there was also a real chance that some wealthy idiot that owned much of the wrecked part of Massilix would try to use [Bards] to smear her name and blame her¡ªand worse, the other Rangers¡ªover the devastation. And she wasn¡¯t sure if she could react kindly. And yes, Ranthia actually ran. Sadly, it would have been quite rude to make her cargo passenger dizzy by twirling and dancing about like a lunatic while she carried the young woman. On arrival, she enjoyed watching the happy reunion until she realized that she was being a voyeur, shamelessly watching what might be a happy couple¡¯s reunion, at which point she quickly made herself scarce. No thanks were necessary, and the backtracking had cost her precious time. Of course, her final stop for the round had to be a major problem. It was never a good sign when one arrived at the town gates to find dead bodies. That was fairly obvious, as far as observations went, but only a few were normal people¡ªa dozen or so of the bodies were guards in full drab gear. Worse, once she got closer, it was clear that they had been killed by the acts of men, not monsters. The wounds were caused by arrows and other weaponry, though the arrows had been plucked back out of the bodies. Ranthia went into the woods a ways and hid her crate, with the Ranger banner set over it, in some bushes. Hopefully it was well out of sight, but if anyone found it, she wanted them to hesitate as much as she could make them. In terms of gear, she was in decent shape. The arcanite in the remnants of her vest had recharged and was available, as was her choker¡¯s bit. She was tempted to grab the slab of arcanite that had been in the wagon, but there wasn¡¯t a great way to secure it and she still hadn¡¯t attuned it¡ªshe had no idea if that would make it problematic for use for future Rangers and wasn¡¯t delusional enough to believe that she¡¯d be allowed to keep it. Knife-wise, her belt was stocked and she had half a belt¡¯s worth of spares in the crate. Which wasn¡¯t much and she wished she had time to rig up something to let her carry her spares. Minimal Void use it was! A terrible decision, but she had no idea if the situation was hot or cold; she needed to get moving. Inside the city, things seemed grim. It was late afternoon, yet every door was sealed shut. No one was out on the streets. The market was abandoned¡ªseemingly while the stalls were in the midst of setting up, goods left scattered about in the open. The city was eerily quiet. But thank Xaoc, Ranthia had enough vitality that she could hear fearful voices deep within buildings. A child cried about her mother¡¯s absence. A bartender cursed his decision to seal up an old smuggling tunnel his grandfather had kept. A father whispered comforts to his children and begged them to keep quiet. The people were alive, but this also meant that whatever was happening was probably ongoing. Or at least fresh. There were more bodies too, as she progressed. More city guards, a few civilians that got caught up in the mess or tried to fight back against whatever force entered their city. The first courier shop she passed blazed merrily in the sunlight and the inside reeked of the scent of charred meat. So, they were trying to prevent messengers from seeking help, that was actually promising. It meant that whatever force did this wasn¡¯t so overwhelming they had confidence in their ability to hold if they were caught before they could entrench. Xaoc willing, a level 301 Ranger was one of the things they feared. Not that solo Rangers were the norm, she was supposed to have returned to Ariminum after all¡ªbut helping others was too important. And maybe it was for the best; it had her where she needed to be (oh Xaoc, she hoped so, at least). Ranthia continued to progress deeper into the city, hands held ready to draw knives in an instant. She walked¡ªno dance, no run¡ªwhile she surveyed the situation and kept her senses on high alert. Rushing was foolish in a situation like this; the best case involved making an even worse mess out of the situation if she rushed into things. Everything beyond that risk was so much worse. It chilled her that she never found anyone wounded or in need of help. Only the dead and those safe, hidden from view. A thorough enemy painted a bleak picture for the situation. Near the governor¡¯s estate, she finally found people out in the open. The remnants of the city guard surrounded the mansion and shouted back and forth with someone inside. There were no immediate sounds of combat or slaughter, so she ducked into a side alley and waited while she listened. The guard were probably on the side of good (ugh), but there was always a risk that they were trying to overthrow the governor in some short-sighted power grab or something. She needed information before she made her move. Thankfully, the situation revealed itself in short order. A group of self-proclaimed anti-imperial freedom fighters had smashed their way into town and killed their way to the governor¡¯s estate. Now they held him and his family and staff hostage. The fools had an endless stream of improbable demands, from a million rods to impossibly speedy carriages. Seriously, even if there were horses at that high of a level, the fancy wagon would shake itself to bits. They¡¯d had enough trouble with the overbuilt Ranger wagon when they had to rush! And they¡¯d never had horses even close to that level. The situation seemed stable, so Ranthia chose to wait. A bit of darkness would make things a lot easier on her since she didn¡¯t have backup. Fortunately, late in the evening their ¡®negotiations¡¯ broke off, which meant it was a great time to quietly approach the guardswoman that seemed to be in charge. Especially since the woman had stepped away to take a moment to herself; Ranthia wanted a minimal reaction to her presence, lest the idiots learn something was up. There was no avoiding it, but Ranthia still cringed when the woman jumped with fright when Ranthia approached. At least she didn¡¯t shriek. ¡°Apologies, I¡¯m with the Rangers. I wanted to speak to you alone before any of those lunatics learn a Ranger is in town.¡± Ranthia spoke quickly, angling her chest to make her badge more prominent. After a moment, the guardswoman recovered and introduced herself, ignorant of how pointless that was with Ranthia. ¡°I was just a regular member of the guard yesterday, but the captain and most of the senior guards are dead. I just kind of ended up in charge because nobody else stepped up.¡± The woman admitted. For a nice change of pace, the guard seemed to not second-guess Ranthia¡¯s status as a Ranger for a single moment. That or she was just relieved to see a classer at twice her level that she could nominally trust. ¡°You¡¯ve done great. Give me a quick overview of the situation. Do you already have a plan you¡¯re working towards?¡± Ranthia asked as she closed in a bit more so they could talk more quietly. ¡°Thanks, Ranger. This lot showed up last night while the gate was closed. They seemed content to wait, but they kept shouting about how they were going to recruit our citizens to fight the empire and how we should be honored that our city would be ground zero for the great rebellion. The governor ordered us to keep the gates shut. Come dawn, when the gates didn¡¯t open, they attacked. They got classers over our walls who opened the gates from the inside. The guards at the gate, along with the other travelers that had queued up to get into town, were butchered. The captain set up several defensive choke points while the rest of us got people to hide. The choke points barely slowed them down. There were 52 of them, at last count. They went straight for the governor¡¯s mansion and smashed their way in. I don¡¯t know for sure what happened in there, but they claim the governor and his family are alive. For now. ¡°We don¡¯t really have a plan. The best I¡¯ve been able to do is to try to keep them talking. If we charge the mansion things will get very bloody¡­¡± Ranthia was silent while she digested the information. ¡°How many of your squad are here, Ranger?¡± The guardswoman asked, in a hopeful tone. ¡°¡­It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s just me.¡± Ranthia replied uncomfortably. ¡°Oh¡­¡± There was a lot packed into that quiet response. The silence lingered for several long moments. ¡°I¡¯ll go in after dark. If I¡¯m stealthy enough, maybe I can free the governor and his family before they figure out something has gone wrong. For now, let¡¯s keep the other guards ignorant that a Ranger is here, so they don¡¯t make a commotion and put the rebels on high alert.¡± Ranthia decided. The guardswoman nodded and led Ranthia to the far side of the alley. She knew somewhere where they could wait, she said, just before they stepped out of the alley. ¡°Guards! One of the vile fiends has captured our leader! Arrest him!¡± Someone cried out almost immediately. Ranthia just groaned, as several men tried to ram into her and pin her down. ¡°Even when I¡¯m wearing my damned Ranger badge? Seriously? I still can¡¯t get through an interaction with guards without someone trying to arrest me?¡± Ranthia grumbled and cursed while she stood there, effectively rendering their efforts to pin her down entirely ineffectual. The tyranny of stats¡ªas she well knew¡ªwas an absolute beast. Darkness fell. The guardswoman had talked her fellows down before Ranthia had to hurt anyone. And soon Ranthia would have to try to figure out how she was going to deal with 52 thugs¡ªmany of whom were classers¡ªwith less than half that many knives. Still, Ranthia was glad she had hidden the crate. The remaining guards didn¡¯t strike her as especially trustworthy¡ªthe arcanite slab alone was worth a fortune, assuming they could find a buyer. Without it, she was able to move far more stealthily as she carefully crept through the shadows toward the governor¡¯s manor. She still had to bite down the absurd urge to dance through the shadows, but so long as she moved carefully the gloom should make her less visible. [Vision of the Void], of course, let her see quite well, so she carefully watched the roof, windows, and yard for signs of patrols or individuals on guard duty. The city guard had been convinced they were all holed up inside, but that didn¡¯t necessarily mean they were stupid enough to skip basic precautions. [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Stealth]! Would you like to replace a skill with [Stealth]?] [Stealth]: Sure, your footfalls make no noise, but you do realize that there is more to stealth. Right? Instead of putting lives in needless danger, take this skill and embrace a skillset that you have literally no formal training for and limited experience with. Ranthia was giving the system no small amount of mental side-eye (she had experience with stealth!), but she dropped [Whistling] and took the skill. [Ranger¡¯s Lore] and [Rhythmic Grace] were already helping a little¡ªthough she refused the temptation to try to invent a way to dance stealthily, the skillsets seemed to be diametrically opposed¡ªbut the new skill actually pulled its weight immediately. It helped her find better shadows to move in and the correct visual angles to stay at to make her harder to spot. It was a brand-new low level skill though, so it wasn¡¯t like she trusted it implicitly. For example: yes, that shadow was a bit darker, but it was literally in the opposite direction, so no. She stalked around the perimeter of the manor until she found an open set of shutters with one of the idiotic rebels against the windowsill with his back to the open sky. Carefully, Ranthia climbed up the wall and peeked around him. It was a perfect point of entry; she saw nobody else in the room. She braced her body, then sprang up and grabbed the man by the side of his head (should have had shorter hair, idiot), then pushed herself off the wall with her feet to pull him out from the window. She kicked off the wall at the last moment and used the momentum to flip through the air and swap their positions. He needed to hit first. The rebel¡¯s head slammed into the ground, and she landed on him. The sickening crack beneath her suggested that she¡¯d broken bone somewhere on him, but she had extremely limited sympathy. The more important thing was that he was out cold. And there wasn¡¯t even a kill notification! She climbed back up to the room only to find¡­ another man, unconscious. His nose was broken from a kick to the face and a little blood¡ªnot his¡ªleaked from his mouth. She looked between him and the man she had left in the shadows behind the house. He had clearly gotten kicked in the face when her panicked victim thrashed, which meant at the time he was on his knees and¡­ Seriously? Indulging in pleasures after you took part in murdering dozens of people and while holding more lives hostage? Ranthia openly judged them harshly. She did stop to bind and gag the unconscious man with the broken nose before she dragged him behind some furniture. The one she left outside would just get grabbed by the guard if he made much noise, so she hadn¡¯t worried about binding him. Ranthia moved into the manor¡¯s halls and carefully crept around. [Stealth] levelled quickly between its newness and the high stakes involved in the situation. Over 50 opponents at once would be dangerous, even with most of them closer to a third of her own level (thank Xaoc for Remus¡¯ shit level averages). Sure, odds were most of the rebels weren¡¯t classers¡ªyet¡ªbut there was real danger, nonetheless. Plus, the real risk was to the hostages, those she was dutybound to save. Death was for those that deserved it. If she had anything to say about it, Black Crow was done with the innocents of the city. As much as she liked the idea of eliminating enemies as she went, she was smart enough to avoid the rebels for now. If she took out more than a few there was a real risk that they¡¯d notice, at which point the hostages were in immediate danger. Plus, no matter her darker inclinations; she really, really didn¡¯t want to start openly butchering swaths of people that were weaker than her. ¡­Especially since that practically promised to end in them trying to swarm her, and she wasn¡¯t fond of her odds if she had to fight the bulk of the group at once. Overall, it was much easier to duck into rooms or hide in shadows and let individuals and small groups pass. The rebels seemed to be milling about directionless and bored. They weren¡¯t performing patrols, instead they were putting in transparent efforts to find small pocketable treasures that someone else hadn¡¯t found. There was no thorough screening of rooms, just a quick peek for shiny stuff or maybe an opened drawer or two before they moved on. Which was for the best. Things would get bad if they found the man she left tied up behind some furniture before she found the hostages. If only she had any clue whatsoever about where to look. She had never even been inside of a manor anywhere near this scale before¡ªher peek into Aquiliea¡¯s governor¡¯s smaller estate didn¡¯t count. By the windows visible from outside there seemed to be three levels to the building, assuming nothing of merit was underground. Most of the rebels she bypassed were quiet or spoke of nothing interesting. The rarer ones that conversed about the situation were worth the risk of shadowing within earshot for a time. Well, earshot by her standards, anyway; her vitality was still hard to believe. [Vision of the Void] had gotten strong enough that she could, just barely and somewhat dimly, see through certain thinner interior walls of the mansion. Score one for the wealthy being cheap on the important stuff. It allowed her to see into most of the rooms to some extent¡ªenough to confirm there were no hostages, at least¡ªwithout having to risk opening every single door she passed. There were rooms with one to three people sprawled out on nice furniture¡ªprobably just asleep¡ªbut she sorely doubted they were prisoners given the lack of security. The Skill also let her see some sights she wished she hadn¡¯t from other amorous rebels and painted a somewhat bleak picture of the character of the governor. The rooms used by the servants were very minimal, with multiple low-quality cots stuffed into small rooms. There was no trace of creature comforts, and they were never in rooms with windows. Slave labor that was provided with the bare minimum, without dignity. All so the governor could have like fifty-six sitting rooms. Gods and goddesses, how she hated men like that. Not that she was in any danger of siding with the rebels, no matter how terrible the governor was. Most of the rebels were loudly gloating about the treasures they had plundered, the kills they had made, or how the Empire would learn just how serious they were. Or claiming that they owned the city now, which was almost adorably na?ve. A rare few that she overheard seemed upset over the bloodshed and had serious doubts about their cause. The phrase ¡°not what I signed on for¡± was bandied about by these few in various forms. The fact that they were the quietest conversations suggested they feared their fellows though, so the problem was unlikely to solve itself. Unfortunately, none of them discussed the location of the hostages for no reason. It would have made her life so much simpler if the thugs had been that convenient. When she came to a stairwell, she went up to the third level, rather than down to the first. The stairs themselves creaked noisily, which forced her to scramble up the banisters instead. There seemed to be fewer rebels that milled about on the third floor. The few she found stood in fixed positions¡ªeffectively screening off part of the floor¡ªand were at a higher level. Before, every rebel she had seen had been level 120 or less¡ªsome barely half that number. Up here, every rebel she saw had passed their level 128 class up, though typically in only one class. And instead of being [Laborer] or [Artisan] tagged they were all [Warrior] or [Ranger] tagged, with a rare [Mage] here and there.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Ranthia explored what she could. [Stealth] leveled even faster, as she crept carefully through the halls without fixed sentries. She thought she was doing well, up until she encountered her first actual patrol. She was forced to duck into a little sitting room¡ªalways with the empty sitting rooms¡ªand hide. Frustration gnawed at her, at least until there was the sound of a door being slammed through the far wall, followed by raised voices. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you killed him! The bastard was our hostage! Our only real hostage! My mother and the slaves we locked in the cellar aren¡¯t going to stop the guard or the 3rd Legion when they arrive!¡± A young woman¡¯s voice shrieked. ¡°Hey, back off! You¡¯re lucky we let you join up with us. We¡¯ll make this work; nobody knows he¡¯s dead other than the three of us. We keep it from our men, we keep it from the guards. We can make it work.¡± Another woman¡¯s voice replied, more mature and composed than the first. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault! I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d die that easily!¡± A man whined. ¡°Shut up, both of you! Here, give me your dagger. We¡¯ll cut off one of the body¡¯s ears while it¡¯s fresh, throw it out to the guards. Tell ¡®em we cut it off one of the slaves we caught. Tell ¡®em we¡¯ll keep sending ¡®em the hostages in pieces until they meet our demands. And let¡¯s make some real fucking demands¡ªstop letting those idiots use you as a mouthpiece. Seriously, who ever heard of a flying ship? We sound like total idiots when we make demands like that.¡± The older woman snapped. ¡°Oooh let me cut the ear off. I¡¯ve hated that bastard my whole life. You took the kill from me, but it¡¯ll still feel good to cut pieces off of him.¡± The younger woman all but purred. Ranthia tuned out the rest of the enthusiastic bloodlust. So, the governor was dead. Someone from the manor had joined with the rebels, very plausibly the governor¡¯s daughter given some of what was said. And the rest of the hostages were in the cellar. Which meant that needed to be her next destination; she needed to free the hostages before she could confront the group. It took time as she dodged patrols and skulked about, but finally Ranthia made her way back to the stairwell and slowly proceeded down to the first floor. The rebels down there were more sedentary and practically everything that looked valuable that wasn¡¯t nailed down had been taken. The telltale sight of toothmarks and a small smear of blood suggested that some enterprising fool had even attempted to chew the gold disc free from its heavy wooden frame, it seemed. Ranthia still took care as she crept about until, finally, she found a room that housed a single rebel and a thick, sturdy door recessed into the floor. Even better, the guard seemed to have passed out; the man was snoring, one arm still hanging inside an open wine cask that he had set next to his plush chair. Ranthia just smiled to herself and tied up and gagged the drunken fool, unchallenged. Ranger Academy had taught her how to properly tie up even [Warrior] classers like this guy; the trick was to use bindings that prevented them from leveraging their full strength to free themselves. Using their fingers worked best, though it was rare she had quite so much impunity to do such an elaborate setup. Still, she couldn¡¯t risk this guy getting free. It was even worth cutting up her good rope. Once he was secure, she liberated the key from him¡ªwhen had she gotten numb to something as wastefully extravagant as indoor locks?¡ªand crept down the few steps to carefully unlock and open the cellar door. Below, three men and ten times as many women were huddled. The idiots hadn¡¯t even bothered to tie them up. The prisoners recoiled back as Ranthia approached. ¡°Try to keep quiet! I¡¯m Ranthia of Ranger Team 13. I¡¯m here to help but I need everyone to stay very quiet and do exactly what I say. I snuck in, these crazy idiots are still active up there.¡± Ranthia quietly spoke. Ranthia repeated herself several times as she moved through the prisoners to check on them. Several had wounds and some of the women had clearly been¡­ abused, but nothing was life threatening or needed urgent treatment. She did give away her bandages though, two of the slaves claimed to know some basic first aid. Almost every one of the hostages had to touch her, to assure themselves that she was real. She tried to stoically tolerate it; she knew they were terrified. The woman dressed in once-fine tattered clothing, the governor¡¯s wife, helped to reassure and calm them down. Paradoxically, she seemed a decent person, despite her husband and probable daughter. ¡°Okay, I¡¯m going to leave the door open but please stay down here. Don¡¯t try and come up. I want them to assume I got all of you out if anyone pokes their head into the room upstairs. If they don¡¯t think they have any prisoners, we Rangers will be able to take them out. If any of you are seen, the danger increases for every one of you. Understand?¡± Ranthia watched them all nod. She could only pray they obeyed. Odds are someone would panic and try to make a run for it, but¡­ Godsdamnit, there was only so much she could do. They might be safer if she locked the door and took the key with her, but she had no idea if there were other copies of the key or any lockpicks among the rebels. Plus, there was a real risk that someone would set the manor on fire out of desperation, and she needed to believe the prisoners had a way out. She returned to the room with the drunken idiot, then removed her ranger badge and wrapped her blindfold around it before she tucked it into a pouch. With that done, she loosely set rope around her feet and wrists to make it¡ªhopefully¡ªlook like she was another rebel in slightly better gear that had been knocked out and tied up too. Once she was done, she shut her eyes, threw out a mirror image, and shifted to it. Dawn would come soon. She was up against roughly fifty opponents. Going straight for the leaders was dangerous, the best case scenario there had a heavy risk of the other rebels becoming desperate and doing something stupid. The worst case would have her rushed by every rebel at once as they fought to save their leader. Picking them off one at a time still was a non-option. They were sloppier than she expected, but she wasn¡¯t [The Final Knife]¡ªor whatever its evolution would have been. She chose [Blade Dancer] and became [She who Dances with Chaos]. She was no master of stealth that could rapidly take down fifty opponents in rapid succession before anyone noticed. No, there was only one viable strategy that came to mind, and it made her heart sing. She would cause chaos. She would be chaos. She no longer had quite as much arcanite as she used to carry¡ªnot with her vest half destroyed¡ªbut Ranthia was in her Adventurer armor. She had access to its arcanite once again. Not that she always needed to shift; she found that she got an incredible amount of use out of throwing out an image and using [Echoes Reflected] to laugh or whisper an insult before she dismissed the image. The image was only there for a moment, and she was able to get rid of the image before the slow rebels noticed it. Until one did¡ªand freaked out about a ¡®ghost¡¯! Gods, that was brilliant and gave her ideas. First, some of the more jumpy, skittish rebels began to report that they saw a scary-looking, bloodied spirit wearing armor with unholy, soulless eyes that whispered that they had invoked the ire of the dead. That had annoyed their leadership. Then, on the heels of the ghost rumors, brawls broke out across the mansion. Rebels would find personal belongings or pillaged treasures sticking out of the pockets and pouches of their comrades. Or they gleefully retaliated over an attack. Sometimes it was insults that were whispered too loudly getting punished. The problems were many but the brawling rapidly worsened, especially as fighting groups collided with one another. Then, those that avoided the brawls rapidly reported more and more ¡®ghost¡¯ incidents. Laughter heard from rooms that turned out to be empty. Screams or cries for help from dead ends. Nerves frayed amongst the rebels as the sun came up. Allegations ran rampant among them. Order was always thin for a group that came together like a mob, but problems bloomed faster than anyone could have possibly hoped to deal with them. The leadership was challenged in whispers and glares as they tried to use threats to get things under control. Unconscious rebels began to be found scattered across the mansion. Then a panicked rebel reported that the level 148 guard was found unconscious, tied up with a woman, and the prisoners had escaped. That report had come in very loudly and things broke down even further as far, far too many ears overheard the woman. Whispers of the 3rd Legion¡¯s approach had begun to circulate too (that rumor Ranthia couldn¡¯t even take credit for; scared rebels came up with that one all by themselves). The once barely cohesive group shattered into factions shortly after the sun rose. One faction was comprised of those that wanted to surrender. Then there were those that wanted to go out and fight the guards and try to escape the city before the 3rd Legion arrived. There were, of course, those that trusted their leaders implicitly¡ªoften for lack of any personal will to do anything without orders. But the biggest problem¡ªfor everyone involved¡ªwas those that wanted to be in charge and felt they could do better, each creating their own little factions. Of those final groups, one of the lower level, but cleverer would-be leaders disappeared. Rumors circulated that another faction that favored strength over everything had captured him. When his followers broke into the territory of the mansion that the alleged captors controlled, they found their leader bruised and unconscious in a room that had a chair braced against the door. They attacked. In-fighting grew more and more savage as factions clashed and assumed grudges turned into true hate. Throats were slit and weapons were turned against former allies. All the while others who tried to restore order disappeared. By lunch time, the leadership had gathered their handful of trusted, loyal minions and barricaded themselves upstairs with the body of the governor. By then they had finally accepted that every time they sent a man or three to investigate, their agents never returned. For what felt like the eightieth time, Ranthia popped back into her real body to ensure it was still where she left it. Fortunately, she seemed to have caused enough chaos that nobody was bothering to mess with anyone unconscious. They also hadn¡¯t yet actually gone into the cellar either, thank Xaoc they did as she hoped¡ªthey were half-assed enough to just assume the open door meant that the prisoners had somehow escaped. Ranthia never quite was able to trust or believe it when a plan went exactly as she hoped. It left her feeling like she was waiting for something she missed or couldn¡¯t plan for, something that was going to ruin everything. The longer everything went right, the worse the feeling got. At that point she had put down nearly half of the rebels¡ªnot counting those that had been knocked out or killed by their fellows¡ªand was ready to focus on the leadership. She sent a prayer to Xaoc and, once again, dedicated the chaos she had wrought to her patron deity. Then she settled her true body into the awkward, limp position that made it look unconscious and shifted to the mirror image she had left hidden inside a wardrobe on the third floor. The leadership had barricaded themselves into the governor¡¯s office and its connected rooms. First, there was the sitting room with four guards (thank you, whichever idiot kept saying ¡°the four of us¡±), then past it was the office proper, where an unknown number of individuals waited. Of course, the office itself just had to have thick wooden walls that [Vision of the Void] couldn¡¯t see through at all. Even with her vitality it was soundproofed enough that she couldn¡¯t make out voices well enough to tell what they were saying or how many people were in there. When she¡¯d overheard the three before, they had relocated to a different room to argue, but that room was abandoned now. From here, she wouldn¡¯t be able to hold back. Ranthia had been trying to just knock out the rebels¡ªmany of them were just caught up in the leaders¡¯ plots¡ªusing what she had learned in the Hand-to-Hand Combat course at the Academy. But she wasn¡¯t stupid enough to fight their higher level classers unarmed. There was some merit to taking them alive so they could be questioned, but they were the ones who had allowed so much death to visit the people of the city; she wasn¡¯t going to lose sleep over killing the leaders and their inner circle. She spared a moment to mentally brace herself, then boldly walked up to and knocked on the barricaded door. ¡°Message from one of your scouts you sent downstairs.¡± She tried to rely on her old voice training to sound masculine. She was rusty, but she hoped it would pass muster. She also had no idea if they had any sort of code phrases set up, so she went with a fairly broad and curiosity-inducing hook. A few whispers, then the telltale sound of furniture being moved away from the door. Shortly thereafter, the door unlocked and a head poked out. Ranthia calmly triggered [Void Edge] and deposited a knife in his eye socket before he had time to react. [*ding!* You have slain a [Hero of the Revolution] (Wind, level 131), [Apprentice Woodcutter] (Wood, level 66)!] Ranthia kicked the door open and threw mirror images into the room as fast as she could create them, having each lunge at one of the three remaining men in the room. They weren¡¯t her best work, she was more than a bit distracted from controlling them, but it created an ample amount of confusion. Ranthia followed her images in and went for two of the rebels that had backed against a wall side-by-side. She waited for them to hesitate when they realized the images broke when they touched them. Then made her move and drove fully empowered knives into the hearts of both men. [*ding!* You have slain a [Revolutionary Leader¡¯s Trusted Bodyguard] (Metal, level 158), [Swordsman] (Metal, level 129)!] [*ding!* You have slain a [Rebel Without a Cause] (Earth, level 140), [Kill the Weak] (Water, level 129)!] The last man screamed¡ªdamnit¡ªas he continued to smash mirror images with his iron club. There was no more point in stealth, Ranthia allowed herself to slip into the natural rhythm of a dance and twirled up to him. The images stopped moving as she neared the man. The man stood ready; his eyes locked on the strange moving version of the same woman. And that was when she had one of her images lunge at his unprotected side. The man spun in a panic, swinging his club for it. More or less at the exact same moment he smashed the image, Ranthia swept her Void-infused knife through the back of his head. [*ding!* You have slain a [Crush Them Until They Stop Moving] (Earth, level 171), [Hold Her Down] (Forest, level 130)!] Ranthia took a moment to spit on his corpse, once she processed that kill notification. It was always nice when bad guys managed to be so excessively evil that they erased any trace of doubt or guilt Ranthia might have had over killing the rebels. It also spoke volumes that the inner circle of the leadership had included not only a murderer and a rapist, but individuals that were so obsessed with those acts that they clearly had entire classes devoted to them. Four knives down, she was fine. And there was no time to waste either, not after the last man had managed to call out a warning. Ranthia charged straight at the door to the office proper and kicked it open. The door was pretty, but it wasn¡¯t sturdy. [Combat Awareness] and [Rhythmic Grace] saved her life. Even as the door smashed open, her Skills desperately insisted that she needed to get clear of the door. She dove to the side and released the channel she¡¯d been holding, starting the process of shifting. Searing agony from her side filled her consciousness¡ªhad she not already released the channel an instant before the attack hit she might have lost the channel. Ranthia¡¯s shifting process completed and she got to watch the thick beam of radiance shatter the scorched body she had just vacated. Ranthia cursed in her mind. Of fucking course one of the leaders just had to be a trice-cursed Radiance [Mage]. Common sense said that she, as a Mirror [Mage] could utterly wreck them; Mirror [Mages] were the natural predators of Radiance [Mages] after all. Radiance [Mages] famously were unable to touch a Mirror [Mage]. There were tales of Mirror [Mages] that were many, many levels below their opponents killing Radiance [Mages]. ¡­Of course, she was probably the only Mirror [Mage] in Remus¡¯ entire gods-cursed history that had nothing in her class that could counter Radiance! Instead, it was one of the worst matchups possible. Radiance [Mages] could fire beams of painful death at speeds that were far beyond her ability to react. Her only possible countermeasure was to identify the angle of attack and evade or counter it before the [Mage] loosed it. Put in less flattering terms, she was wholly reliant on her opponent being a complete idiot. Because she was at a severe disadvantage against Radiance [Mages]. Which meant that it was time to be creative. It was time to bluff. ¡°I am Sentinel Mirror; you are all under arrest! Surrender and come quietly, or you leave in a bag after someone scrapes you off the wall!¡± She called out. Footsteps. Ranthia stood ready, one knife held loosely in case she needed to throw it. A man stepped around the corner and came into the sitting room, his hands held above his head. He looked her over and smirked. ¡°Stupid Ranger.¡± He taunted. Too late, Ranthia realized her error. His hands were up, yes, but his finger was pointed at the center of her face. There was no time. She hadn¡¯t even begun to channel and her mana was getting worryingly low¡ªshe¡¯d even drained her arcanite unleashing chaos and checking on her true body! There was no time to duck and get her head clear, not with Radiance. [Rhythmic Grace] was her only hope. Ranthia put all her hope into the skill¡¯s guidance and moved with it, a graceful, simple little dance. [Void Edge] activated in her knife. [True Grace], [Flowing Momentum], and even [Echoes of Devastation] kicked in. The Radiance beam didn¡¯t just come. The damned element meant that the attack arrived instantaneously. Void-touched knife met Radiance beam. For a few precious instants the Void consumed the Radiance¡ªand the knife. It stalled the attack just long enough for her to twirl her head clear of the beam¡¯s path. Then the Void consumed the knife and dissipated. Her imminent death became a clean dodge. Hurriedly, she threw mirror images around the man as fast as she could manage; she had to get him on the back foot before he could unleash another attack. [Reflective Motility] animated them and [Mirrored Moves] let them attack like she would. The rebel responded with another skill. A ring of Radiance formed around his waist. The mirror images were destroyed when they got too close. Thank Xaoc, he was stupid enough to be one of Remus¡¯ standard [Mages] that thought he had to point at his targets. Beams of Radiance¡ªthinner than before¡ªburst from his fingertips. Only one beam at a time though. With his ponderous gestures, Ranthia was able to dodge while she danced around him. The man had a pattern, which meant that he was predictable. [Mage ¨C Radiance] level 237, [Leader ¨C Sound] level 135. Speed had to be his worst stat, the man was positively glacial compared to her. The problem was his spells were practically instant, which evened the playing field more than she liked. She could dodge him with a bit of range, but if she closed in the timing advantage favored him. Fortunately, the man lacked vision; he was touched by order. His pattern of attack was simplistic and very predictable. It was either the most bizarre life-risking attempt to trick her into thinking he was predictable, or he was unaware that he kept alternating through the exact same pattern of four attacks over and over. So yes, it could be a trick, but she was willing to gamble, especially since she was gambling on chaos besting someone deluded by order. Ranthia started to channel¡ªyes, honestly, she should have started the process sooner, but she had hoped to conserve mana¡ªwhile she waited. Then she had to hold it until, at last, the time was right. He was just about to reposition before he started his pattern again. She sent a mirror image right in front of him and began the process to shift into it, even as she had it lunge at him. The instant before it hit the wide ring of Radiance he still had around his waist¡ªthat had been the hardest bit of the timing¡ªshe slipped into the image. It burned, but agony was an old friend thanks to the duel with the kraken. Without that unwanted experience, she might not have considered such a reckless and self-destructive plan. Ranthia¡¯s knives were already at the perfect height as she pirouetted. The Radiance hurt, but her vitality was high enough¡ªcompared to his magic power¡ªthat she wasn¡¯t being vaporized, just burned. One knife passed through his throat, guided by [Flowing Momentum]. [Void Edge] erased a large chunk of it. [Echoes of Devastation] deepened. Then the second knife slashed through what was left. [*ding!* You have slain a [Radiant Figurehead] (Radiance, level 237), [Charismatic Speaker] (Sound, level 135)!] His body collapsed almost immediately, just before his severed head hit the floor and rolled. The impact knocked away the cocky grin he had worn in life. It was a bad move, but Ranthia ground her teeth until she finished her channel and shifted to an intact image. Her flesh was restored, but the skirt of her Adventurer armor was little more than smoky scraps of brittle ash. From the right angles she was already indecent, and more pieces flaked and crumbled by the moment. She had better things to do than worry about indecency though. She was under a thousand mana, but she still held her head up high, drew two of her precious few remaining knives, and calmly walked into the office. The two women that were inside looked at one another. Then the older one, a surprisingly plain and ordinary-looking blonde woman a bit older than Ranthia, sighed and knelt while she put her hands behind her head. The younger cursed colorfully, but followed suit, even as she began to try to throw everyone else under the proverbial wagon, insisting on her own innocence. After the women were securely bound, Ranthia stole a blanket from one of the bedrooms on the third floor, returned to her true body, then went outside to retrieve the city guard. They rushed in and subdued the still skirmishing remnants of the rebels in short order, while Ranthia and a few ¡®elite¡¯ guards went to the cellar until the bulk of the guards were done securing the rebels. After that was finally in control, Ranthia led the acting guard captain woman with her ¡®elites¡¯ upstairs to where she had tied up the two female leaders that had surrendered. ¡°Thank you, Ranger Ranthia. I greatly appreciate your assistance in this matter.¡± The guardswoman announced with a bright smile, while her people freed the women enough to let them walk. The older woman started to scream into her gag and thrashed, but one of the guards clubbed her with his baton and dragged her off without stopping. The younger woman went quietly, subdued. One of the guards even carried the head of the Radiance guy, seemingly without regard to the fact that it was still leaking. The governor¡¯s body was in the corner where the rebels had left it, and no one quite seemed to know what to do with it. Ranthia was impatient to continue her journey and it showed. Finally, the next day, the guardswoman said she believed that was all that ¡®the Rangers¡¯ (as if there were more than just Ranthia) could do in the city. A short goodbye later, Ranthia was off. She was late. The Summer Solstice was getting dangerously close. And she had another stop to make. She paused only to retrieve her¡ªthankfully unmolested¡ªcrate and change into a men¡¯s tunic with the remnants of her armor worn awkwardly over it. It was uncomfortable, but at least she wouldn¡¯t get any more exhibitionistic levels out of [Sexy]. Speaking of levels, she felt almost disappointed when she reviewed them while she moved as quickly as she could for her next destination. [*ding!* [Echoes Reflected] has leveled from 119 to level 163!] [*ding!* [Mirrored Moves] has leveled from 101 to level 105!] [*ding!* [Distorted Likeness] has leveled from 88 to level 90!] [*ding!* [Void Affinity] has reached level 294!] [*ding!* [Vision of the Void] has leveled from 104 to level 109!] [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has leveled from 88 to level 90!] [*ding!* [Stealth] has leveled from 1 to level 73!] [*ding!* [Combat Awareness] has leveled from 295 to level 297!] [*ding!* [Fast Learner] has reached level 221!] [*ding!* [Image Recall] has leveled from 175 to level 178!] Realistically, she knew not every pitched battle could provide absurd levels, but it was still disappointing to only get a few skill levels out of the mix. Especially considering that she had no plans to keep [Stealth], so its level gains would just increase the nausea she got to experience when she dropped it. ¡°Vert!¡± Ranthia called out. She had been worried that the young woman wouldn¡¯t still be there. The sun was up fully, and she was days late. Plus, there¡¯d been more than a small chance that the young woman would have decided to not try to become a Ranger¡ªor that she¡¯d been scamming Ranthia the entire time. Gods, even Ranthia had second-guessed herself on visiting. After her round, she wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted to subject the kid to life as a Ranger. But there she was. No longer scrawny and filthy, but lean and clean. She had the physique of someone that exercised regularly¡ªboth athletic and powerful. It hadn¡¯t quite been two years yet since they last met, but the young woman was barely recognizable! Gods and goddesses, what some people could become if they were given regular meals and a goal. ¡­Why was she surprised, again? She herself knew this better than most people! ¡°Ranger! I¡­ was worried you had changed your mind!¡± Vert¡¯s face twisted into a vibrant grin. ¡°Sorry, sorry! This round¡¯s¡­ been a lot. Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have the wagon anymore, can you run?¡± Ranthia replied. ¡°Of course!¡± Vert flexed her arms¡ªokay seriously, it¡¯d only been a bit less than two years, what the fuck. ¡°Er, I mean like all day and fast. We¡¯ll need to run to Ariminum, ASAP.¡± Ranthia clarified. Vert grimaced briefly, but then she nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, ma¡¯am!¡± Ranthia let Vert pretend until they were out of the city, then they readjusted. Vert strapped the crate onto her back, after stuffing her own bags into it too, then climbed onto Ranthia¡¯s back and¡­ well, thank Xaoc for dexterity. And vitality. And Ranthia still sorely wished she had free stats to burn on strength. They talked while they moved. Ranthia shared a¡­ highly edited version of the key events of her round. Vert discussed her training regimen and how she had changed her Skills around. Ranthia gave her advice for further tweaks to make and cryptically suggested that she save any free stat points she had left for use at the Ranger Academy when she found a need for them. Ranthia waffled a bit in her own head, but ultimately she decided not to elaborate on the Ranger Academy, except to say that when instructors or other experienced personnel gave her advice there, she should seriously listen to it. They had decades of insight into class builds and how to hone promising people into true elites. The hell months probably worked best as a surprise, but she had a lot of faith in Vert. Her workout routine sounded surprisingly punishing. Even if her speed sure as heck wasn¡¯t up to Ranthia¡¯s standards. Vert really had grown into a fine young woman, Ranthia had full confidence that she would do well in the Academy. A better diet had filled out her previously hollow face some, and she looked much prettier. ¡­Nope! Ranthia brutally stamped down on that thought train. She adamantly refused to feel even the tiniest spark of attraction to a younger woman that was her own disciple. ¡­Sort of disciple. As close as she would ever get to a disciple, anyway. Speaking of. ¡°So, tell me, what do you think the first rule of combat is?¡± Ranthia prompted. ¡°Kill the other guy?¡± Vert replied in a sarcastic tone. Ranthia chuckled but shook her head. ¡°No, seriously. Give me your best guesses.¡± Ranthia replied. ¡°I ¡®unno! Think twice ¡®fore you fight? Always ¡®ave backup? Dun grab t¡¯ pointy end?¡± Vert grumbled. ¡°Well, the first two aren¡¯t bad. There¡¯s no one first rule of combat. The first rule of combat is any rule that keeps you alive and lets you walk away in the end. Situational awareness, keeping your own equipment in good condition and ready for use, things like that. The first rules of combat might even differ depending on what sort of combat you¡¯re facing¡ªdinosaurs need a very different approach than a gang of thugs.¡± Ranthia began. They travelled through the night without stopping. Vert sometimes nodded off and Ranthia always let her¡ªfor however long the young woman could manage to sleep on Ranthia¡¯s back. Ranthia refused to rest though. Because, soon enough, she would have Hexara in her arms again. She was so close to Ariminum. While Vert dozed, Ranthia had time to plan her proposal. Book 1 - Chapter 50 - Love & Leadership Technically, Ranthia knew she should head straight for Ranger Headquarters. She was late and she needed to report about her team. Gods, she shouldn¡¯t have even tried to finish her round, she should have gone straight to Ariminum after Massilix. Her duty had driven her ever since then. But it faded in her heart as she arrived at Ariminum¡¯s gates and let Vert off her back so they could join the queue. Instead, once they got through the entry process with the town guard and got into Ariminum proper, she got Vert a room at the tavern she used sometimes and left her crate with the young woman¡­ after she retrieved two specific items from it and shucked her armor. Her plans and fantasies she had crafted on the road could rot. Some things shouldn¡¯t be put off for some better theoretical perfect moment. She was ready. Hexara was at the salon, of course. Ranthia waited impatiently for Hexara to finish with her current customer, torn between nervousness and an unfair hatred for whoever the customer was. But, at last, an attractive woman walked by and a short time later¡­ she emerged. ¡°Oh my goddess, Ranthia!? I was so worried about you! Your eyes, are you okay!?¡± Hexara squealed. Gods and goddesses, she looked as incredible as ever. Ranthia was still a mess from the road, but¡­ she couldn¡¯t make herself wait for a bath. Hexara still hugged her enthusiastically. ¡°They¡¯re okay. And I¡¯m fine now. Sorry I worried you, my love.¡± Ranthia replied. Everything made sense again. Ranthia¡¯s burdens became lighter, as a small piece of her was restored by the embrace of the woman she loved. Ranthia leaned in, seeking Hexara¡¯s lips for a kiss. ¡­And Hexara hurriedly, and somewhat awkwardly, broke the hug. Ranthia¡¯s beloved stepped a couple of steps away, looking flustered and uncomfortable. Ranthia¡¯s heart was breaking even before the woman spoke. ¡°Um, I¡­ have some good news! I got married while you were gone.¡± Hexara announced with an uncomfortable smile on her face. Hexara would never know how close she came to breaking her former lover right then and there, Ranthia promised herself. She had endured everything that she had gone through for Hexara¡¯s sake, her dream of reuniting with her love and marrying her¡ªleaving everything else behind. It was the dream that kept her going. Yet clearly it had all been a lie. Something she told herself. Of course it was. No fucking wonder the receptionist hadn¡¯t returned after telling Hexara that someone was there to see her. Everyone else knew. Despite her inner turmoil, Ranthia sculpted a broad smile on her face and poured a sound not entirely unlike cheer into her voice. Her smile would never reach her eyes, but thanks to her blindfold it didn¡¯t have to. ¡°That¡¯s great!¡± Ranthia lied. She knew she should be happy for Hexara, if she truly loved her. She hadn¡¯t taken complete leave of her senses; it was the right thing to do! Hexara was clearly happy. And yet, Hexara¡¯s promise to wait for her and their shy confession of their love before Ranthia left continued to play through her mind. The words mocked her and fought to shatter the mask Ranthia wore over her true emotions. Hexara took it as an invitation. With obvious relief and excitement, she began to talk about her wife. Apparently, they had been seeing each other since Ranthia was in the Ranger Academy. It had been casual and open¡­ until suddenly it wasn¡¯t. Mere seasons after Ranthia left to begin her round, they decided to get married. Ranthia had gained a ton of control over her facial expressions between all of the image training she had done, all that she had learned about manipulating them, and¡­ well, everything else. But nothing had ever tested her control like that conversation. Desperately, Ranthia tried to pretend that her body was just another mirror image that she controlled. She had to remind herself every few words to continue to smile. Hexara¡¯s bride came into money a few years ago¡ªwhile Ranthia was in the Academy. Supposedly she hadn¡¯t even known her uncle, yet he left everything to her when he passed. The woman was new to upper society and had leaned on her [Stylist], Hexara, to help her out with the social stuff and appearances. Ranthia wanted to tune it out, but she couldn¡¯t, no matter how distracted her mind was. Oh Xaoc, she had been warned the damned rings were cursed. For a moment, she felt an overpowering need to grab them out of her pouch, crush them, and hurl the remnants away. But she had enough reason¡ªbarely¡ªto know that doing so would have likely been the start of a self-destructive spiral. She couldn¡¯t trust herself. She was hurt and betrayed, but she still loved Hexara. If she snapped and ended up hurting her¡ªor worse¡­ The best thing she could do was stand there¡ªsmile, damnit¡ªuntil the conversation was done. At length, Hexara finished her story¡ªevery word engraved itself into Ranthia¡¯s heart, as if they were knives. After a moment, Hexara¡¯s expression turned slightly pained as she looked at Ranthia¡¯s blindfold-covered face. Oh no. No no no no. Please don¡¯t! ¡°In another life, I wish I could have been with both of you. The three of us happy together. But I know you love your Ranger work. ¡­So, it was easier this way, instead of always having to wait and worry¡­ I¡¯m sorry you couldn¡¯t be there for the ceremony.¡± Ranthia¡¯s efforts to keep her mask in place failed. She wanted to scream. She wanted to curse the woman in front of her. She had endured so much! She had used her true love for Hexara to keep moving. And the woman just unilaterally assumed that Ranthia had chosen being a Ranger over her. When it was her that had pushed Ranthia into¡­! ¡°I¡­ should get to Ranger Headquarters. I just wanted to let you know I was alive.¡± Ranthia muttered weakly. She had no idea what expression her face was making, she felt too disconnected from herself. Hexara looked hurt¡ªgodsdamnit Ranthia seemed unable to succeed at anything she tried¡ªyet she opened her mouth to speak. Ranthia fled, desperately. The cracking remnants of her heart and her psyche couldn¡¯t possibly take anything else. It was far too much with her stats, but she fled at full speed. She escaped the salon. She ran without direction or purpose, dodging around cursing people. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure how¡ªthings got blurry and indistinct for a while there¡ªbut she ended up at the docks. It took a surprising amount of willpower to force herself to stop and not just hurl herself into the Nostrum sea. Instead, she found a quiet corner¡ªout of everyone¡¯s way¡ªand curled up. She ripped her blindfold off before her tears could soak through it, as if they hadn¡¯t already almost the very moment she escaped from the salon. Everything had been a lie. Hexara had promised to wait for her. She had told Ranthia that she loved her. She had agreed that they would talk when Ranthia got back and spend their lives together. The tender letters Ranthia had sent until she was out of every last coin. Then it comes out that almost as soon as Ranthia left Hexara married some other woman that she had never even mentioned?! Ranthia glared hatefully at the two rings in her palm, barely able to make them out through her tears. She levered her arm back and prepared to hurl them into the sea. Instead, she just fell over sideways. She no longer cried; she bawled like a child. Heartbroken and utterly alone. Yet she couldn¡¯t bring herself to get rid of the symbol of her love, even as her heart shattered in a way that reminded her entirely too much of when she lost Tatius and Pupius. Eventually, the tears stopped. Honestly, she felt no better, but she had cried herself out. Her body felt heavy, yet she forced it to move. She stuffed the rings into one of her empty pouches and stood. She went to the baths and hurriedly scrubbed herself. She didn¡¯t indulge in a long soak though¡ªshe still had to get to Ranger Headquarters, and it was already afternoon. With effort, she summoned her Ranger¡¯s mindset. She pushed her personal pain and self-loathing to the side. Once again. She just needed to be a good Ranger. That was all that mattered for the near future. She owed Leoios, Republius, Hail¡ªHallus, Penticus, Mettlea, Secundia, and even Pibius that much. She had to see their legacy carved into that obscene monument to despair. She could allow herself to shatter afterwards. Ranthia felt numb on the inside, but she had control over her expression again. When she had arrived at Headquarters to report her news about Ranger Team 13, she was immediately told to head over to a part of the building she had never been to. She was to give her report to Ranger Command in person. Worse, the guards outside the door had ushered her in almost immediately, pausing only to relieve her of her remaining knives¡ªnot even enough to stock her belt completely. She had no time to even try to prepare herself. The massive doors creaked open; the tiny sounds they made felt excessively noisy. Ranthia woodenly walked into the room like a puppet controlled by a child. Dressed in a cheap men¡¯s tunic, with her badge pinned on her chest. She would have felt completely out of place in the grand room had she had enough presence of mind. ¡°Ranger Ranthia, of the missing Ranger Team 13. Explain your face covering.¡± One of the Commanders ordered immediately, before she had even reached the spot that she assumed she was meant to stand in. ¡°Sir, I received a new skill during the class-up. It allows me to see additional details, but er, I have been repeatedly informed that my eyes are¡­ unpleasant to view.¡± ¡°Covering off.¡± She shrugged, inwardly, and removed the blindfold. Muttering filled the room as the men privately conversed. There were nine men in the room, seated behind their semi-circular desk. The eight Ranger Commanders, plus Sentinel Ocean right in the middle. One of the Commanders looked up and gave her an order. The rest remained focused on their scrolls. Some of the Commanders were familiar, others she had barely seen. She was pretty sure the Ranger veterans were all on one side of the desk though, but she had no idea if that meant anything. It was probably just how they normally sat. ¡°Ranger Ranthia, report.¡± The words came. Ranthia was in the grip of a weird mix of emotions: still numb, yet she also felt small and scared. Yet somehow the words of her report came more readily than she expected. She began from the beginning. The dinosaurs that were after the poachers that had stolen their eggs. The teamwork drills they did. Other simple events that were barely worth noting. Then she came to Ranger Secundia¡¯s class up which delayed Ranger Leoios. The Commanders remained silent through these. Ranthia¡¯s report on the bandit attack that killed their assigned [Healer] and the clean-up of the bandits that followed took much more time. Not because of them¡ªthere were a few questions, focused on details that Ranthia had glossed over¡ªbut because there was so much more to report there. That, overall, went fairly easily. Ranthia expected the next part to go more roughly, but surprisingly the report on the corrupt city guard and the massive kerfuffle that turned into went much faster. She covered the salient points, and no questions were asked. After the fact, she supposed that there must have been thorough documentation of that particular event already. Similarly, there was silence while she covered the ornithocheirus nest where Ranger Pibius proved invaluable¡ªshe had thought the event was important, but clearly these nine men disagreed. After that was a brief mention of her own class up, followed by other trivial reports from towns where little to nothing of merit happened. Ranthia made no mention of her birthday and Secundia¡¯s cake. That was a personal memory, not a Ranger report. The thought of it buoyed her a bit when her mind passed by it. It was funny how it had become a warm memory at some point, she wouldn¡¯t have expected that while she was in so much pain. The hurricane was next. One of the Commanders asked a lot of questions about Pibius¡¯ fortifications and how the wind affected them until he noticed several of his peers glaring at him. The man fell silent and Ranthia moved on. Until¡­ Ranthia looked at the men in the room. Two Ranger Commanders from the Senate, two from the army¡ªalmost indistinguishable from the senators. Four from the Rangers. She had overheard Leoios once say he aspired to claim one of those seats. Sentinel Ocean looked like he had somehow aged in the two years it had been since Ranthia last saw him. ¡°Then we arrived in Massilix.¡± She began. Every man in the room gave her their full attention for the first time since she entered the room. Scrolls were forgotten and Ranthia nearly recoiled from the focus. She reminded herself to mind her emotional mask and proceeded. ¡°Massilix had sustained damage during the hurricane. We needed to resupply so we split up. Ranger Republius and I were in charge of securing lodging for our stay in town, since the guards were busy with recovery efforts. ¡°We saw a sea monster active in the ocean¡ªit destroyed a fisherman¡¯s boat that had gone out already. But it¡¯s Massilix, so such sights were hardly noteworthy. We noted its appearance and continued, not expecting to see more come from it. ¡°That night we were woken by the city alarms. It seemed to be the same sea monster as earlier, except it had started to destroy all of the boats and ships in the docks. At Ranger Leoios¡¯ orders, we held a meeting to determine how to respond, but before we could get too far¡­ ¡°The sea monster attacked the city proper. It destroyed the coastal wall. Commander Leoios ordered us to help with evacuations. Then, shortly thereafter, he ordered us in, to try to drive it off.¡± She took a deep breath. Then stopped for a moment. Her wounded heart felt like it thundered in her chest. This promised to be the second hardest thing she had done¡­ that day. ¡°We approached. The monster was identified as a kraken, level 786. I¡­¡± She paused. ¡°I was placed under restrictions on the use of my first class by Sentinel Hunting. Ranger Leoios knew of the restrictions. The restrictions prevented me from using two of my class skills entirely, and it further restricted the use of two others. Ranger Leoios ordered me to maintain my restrictions.¡± No questions came. Yet. ¡°We split up into three units. Myself, assigned to Rangers Leoios and Republius. Rangers Hallus and Secundia, protected by Ranger Mettlea. Ranger Pibius was given the wagon so he could use its arcanite for his Steam bombs. Ranger Penticus was given free rein to do what he considered to be the best use of his abilities. ¡°Ranger Mettlea was the first to fall. He attempted to attack one of the kraken¡¯s two longer tentacles. It¡­ I¡¯m not sure he ever saw the end come; it was over in an instant. He was crushed by the monster.¡± She shook. The death replayed itself in her mind, all too vividly. Yet Ranthia had to relive each death as she forced herself to keep speaking. ¡°Ranger Hallus fell next. He had climbed a stone tower for better vantage for his skills. A single blow from the kraken collapsed the tower and buried him in the rubble.¡± Her fists became tight. ¡°Ranger Penticus attempted to leap to the kraken¡¯s main body. It¡­ caught him and drove him into the rocks with deadly force. He wasn¡¯t able to withstand it.¡± She inhaled and exhaled; her eyes were too unfocused to truly see the faces of the Commanders. She didn¡¯t want to know their reactions. ¡°With every death I begged Leoios to let me off my restrictions. He refused. He allowed the attack to continue.¡± Bitterness laced her voice; a trace of venom. She breathed it out. ¡°Ranger Pibius¡­ Was unable to affect the kraken with his Steam bombs. The kraken also possessed the element and seemed able to take control over the Steam he built up in his Earth mounds. He¡­ attempted to reposition the wagon to better engage, but the horses didn¡¯t cooperate; the wagon ended up seized by the kraken. Ranger Pibius was crushed along with it.¡± That crack echoed in her mind, even as she lied to the Commanders. Pibius was an ass, but he sure as fuck hadn¡¯t deserved that fate. The least she could do to make amends was to let the record show the man he could have been.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Then Ranger Secundia fell. She tried to reach locals that hadn¡¯t evacuated. Children, from what I could see from my vantage. The small building they were in was about to be crushed. She tried to reach them. I ran after her, but I wasn¡¯t fast enough¡­ ¡°The tentacle came down. Ranger Secundia perished, along with the civilians. I was close enough that the shockwave blasted me into another building and stunned me.¡± She trembled at the memories. ¡°When I came to, one of the first things I saw was the remains of Ranger Republius, I never saw how he died. Ranger Leoios still fought though. But before I could stand, he was pinned by both of the kraken¡¯s long tentacles. ¡­He died firing arrow after arrow.¡± She had thought she was cried out, but she tended to be wrong about everything¡ªwhy not that too? Not many came, but tears fell. She didn¡¯t want to know how the Commanders reacted. ¡°I was alone at that point. I made the decision to fight, without restrictions.¡± Her voice was unsteady. ¡°I believe it¡¯s time we know exactly what these restrictions are and why you were under them.¡± One of the senate-seat Commanders ordered. ¡°¡­My first class is a Mirror [Mage] class. I can create mirror images of myself with it. In essence, I was restricted to only using that ability, with only partial use of another skill that allows me to move those images. My tightest restriction was on another skill, which allows me to abandon my true body and take on the body of one of my mirror images. It becomes my body, as real as my true body. I can fight, then change to another mirror image. My mirror images that I do not inhabit can be moved realistically, but they cannot actually deal damage. ¡°¡­I actually don¡¯t know why Sentinel Hunting restricted my use of the class. Initially, it was to help my [Warrior] class out-level my first class, due to its Void affinity. But if there was more to it than that, he never saw fit to explain.¡± A year ago, she would have rebelled at lining out her abilities so plainly. But what did it matter now? Many, many people had seen exactly what she could do. ¡°Does that mean¡ª¡± One of the Commanders started to ask. ¡°Let¡¯s hear the rest of her report, at least for Massilix. Then we can ask any follow-up questions.¡± Sentinel Ocean interrupted. The other Commanders nodded, after a moment. ¡°Continue, Ranger.¡± Someone said, she wasn¡¯t even quite sure who. ¡°I left my true body in the building I had gotten knocked into. It seemed sturdy enough; it was full of some nautical junk. I shifted to a mirror image, then charged the kraken. Initially, it partially ignored me and rampaged. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t remember the fight very well. The kraken was an enemy beyond just hazardous. It was triple classed. Its first class was Coral-aspected. The visible effects of it came in the form of a coating of tough coral armor that regenerated periodically. Its second class was Steam-aspected. It was able to conjure blasts of powerful Steam and had some sort of powerful movement Skill as well. Its third class was Dark-aspected. The class seemed focused on making the kraken difficult to see clearly, though I was fortunate: my new vision Skill countered it. The other effect I noted was a full-body surge of Dark energy that worked exactly as you would expect. It seemed to hesitate to use that ability though, presumably it required a tremendous amount of mana. ¡°There was a chunk of arcanite from the wagon lodged in one of its big tentacles. I used that to refuel myself, though I had to seek physical contact to do so. ¡°I had to focus so much, especially when I finally pissed it off. The slightest mistake would have killed me. I¡­ I came really close a lot of times. I still feel a bit numb to pain ever since. ¡°My sole focus was on cutting the monster, evading, and shifting when I absolutely had to. I retrieved crates of knives that Ranger Leoios had purchased for my use at some point, since they were destroyed rapidly as I fought. ¡°To the best of my ability to piece things together, I fought it for roughly two full days. Night to day, back to night. Then another repetition of the cycle. Like I said, I just don¡¯t remember the minutia of the battle. ¡°¡­And eventually it died.¡± Ranthia finished lamely. Ranthia stood there as the Ranger Commanders began to talk and argue amongst themselves. ¡°First time?¡± Sentinel Ocean asked her while they bickered. ¡°Sir?¡± Ranthia had no idea which of so many first times he meant. ¡°Was it your first time fighting for over a day?¡± He clarified. Ranthia nodded. ¡°Figured, yeah don¡¯t worry about the details. It happens to all of us. To fight so hard for so long takes all your focus.¡± The Sentinel assured her. The members of Ranger Command that were actual Rangers nodded along with that, before they returned to their own bickering. ¡°Do you recall what the kill notification said?¡± One of the Commanders asked. ¡°[Kraken], Coral, level 789; [Kraken], Steam, level 707; [Kraken], Dark, level 549.¡± She answered immediately. More conversation. Now that Ranthia had nothing else to occupy her attention, she finally noticed that she couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying. Inscriptions to prevent eavesdropping, she supposed, lacking a better explanation. ¡°You obeyed your team leader¡¯s orders to restrain your abilities. Why did you defy those orders as soon as he died?¡± One of the Commanders asked. ¡°I was alone. My options were to either die uselessly, run away and leave Massilix to its fate and make my team¡¯s sacrifice meaningless, or to assume my restrictions had lost all meaning with my team¡¯s death and try to take that evil thing down with me.¡± Ranthia replied with conviction. ¡°Mmn, I see. Had Ranger Leoios not given you those orders, do you believe that your team would have survived?¡± A different Commander asked. That was a question that Ranthia had grappled with often, at least once she recovered her state of mind enough to actually face it. Fortunately, she had found her answer. ¡°No. Had he sent me in solo and they stayed back¡­ Maybe, assuming I actually won. The city suffered substantial damage during the battle, however, which likely would have made that a non-option. I do not believe that my full capabilities would have been meaningful had we all fought together.¡± More arguing. ¡°Do you believe that your team leader made a mistake in his call?¡± One of the senate¡ªor maybe army¡ªCommanders asked. That was another question that she had considered in the months since. ¡°I¡¯ve had¡­ months to consider alternative strategies and what-ifs. I know the strategy I would have used if I had been in his shoes and had the benefit of my analyses. Gods, it might have even been the strategy we came up with if we had time. But we didn¡¯t. We had no time to discuss how to counter the creature. It had begun to destroy Massilix, so we did what our training calls for in a crisis: we threw ourselves at the problem.¡± She still wasn¡¯t sure if she believed Leoios had made a bad call or not. It was¡­ seductively easy to convince herself of what she had just said: that it was the best call he could make in the situation. That it was just a terrible situation that needed an urgent, immediate response. She had no idea how true that was, but for the sake of the respect she used to have for the man, she gave that probable-lie to the Commanders. ¡°I see. Would you share your strategy that you came up with?¡± The same Commander asked. ¡°Not to engage. It would have been cowardly, but I believe we would have ultimately saved more lives if we had focused on evacuation efforts. The kraken made attempts to drag itself out of the ocean multiple times, but it never came far onto land. I doubt it would have changed that behavior without my presence. There should have been a point at which anyone further from water than that would have been safe. We could have gotten as many people clear as we could, then waited for a Sentinel.¡± She answered. The Commander made a noncommittal noise in response. ¡°Speaking of Sentinels, why did you not wait for the Sentinel that had been summoned?¡± A different Commander asked. ¡°I¡­ I honestly forgot that Ranger Leoios had sent a message for one? Once I recovered enough from the battle, I gathered what remained of our Ranger equipment and continued the Round. I was already so far behind schedule¡­¡± She had never even thought about the summons for a Sentinel. Whoops. She hadn¡¯t even covered it in her report, it¡¯d slipped her mind until the question reminded her that Leoios mentioned something about a courier. ¡°¡­Wait, are you telling me you continued your team¡¯s round while solo?¡± A different Commander interjected. ¡°Yes sir.¡± Ranthia answered, not even bothering to make an excuse. The Commanders fell into another argument. Ranthia swore Sentinel Ocean flashed her a grin when they weren¡¯t looking, but it was gone so quickly she was half-convinced she imagined it. ¡°Continue your report, Ranger. Though you should know that we very nearly sent a Sentinel after you. We had gotten reports of a solitary Ranger running around, and we assumed it was a fake. Especially since most reports indicated that your armor wasn¡¯t Ranger equipment.¡± One of the Ranger Commanders ordered, after the arguments died down. ¡°R-right. Apologies, my Ranger-issued armor was destroyed in the battle with the kraken. The spare suits I was able to recover were not in my size, nor did I have adequate skill needed to adjust them to fit me. However, I had a suit of personal armor that I used while I was an Adventurer. I transferred my badge to it.¡± Ranthia was more than a little unnerved to know they had nearly sent a Sentinel to deal with her. She wanted to ask why they hadn¡¯t, but decided that she really, really shouldn¡¯t. After a moment, she resumed her report. Next was Perinthus, with the Purple Flower temple problem. She called out the guard captain¡¯s incompetence and explained the seizure of the center of production of the drugs and the follow-up investigation of the [Priests] and [Acolytes], with the final conclusion that all of them were guilty. A series of minor reports. Trivial problems or towns with no issues at all. She got a few eyebrows when she described the bounty system that she helped one town set up to counter its dinosaur problem, but no one asked questions after she finished that explanation. The anticlimactic dinosaur hunt was even more boring as a report. More trivial reports. ¡°And then I reached the final city of my round. On arrival, I found the city damaged. Dead bodies at the gate and on the road. I soon learned that a group of revolutionaries had invaded the city. They were holed up in the governor¡¯s mansion.¡± ¡°That was you!?¡± One of the Commanders yelled, the others shushed him. ¡°Er, yes? I coordinated with a remarkable, competent woman who had ended up in charge of the city guard by virtue of no one else stepping up. I¡¯m not sure if this means anything, but I would strongly suggest they make her the new captain of the guard. Or at least give the woman a damned nice raise.¡± Oops. Her mask of professionalism slipped a bit there. Ranthia cleared her throat and continued. ¡°With the threat of hostages and the fact that I was potentially up against over 50 classers, I decided to make use of stealth. I entered the mansion and, in time, learned that the governor was dead. They had tortured him to death. A young woman, who seemed from context to be the governor¡¯s daughter, had joined with the revolutionaries. ¡°I secured the other hostages. Then I began to counter the revolutionaries directly. I used my mirror images to create chaos among them. I even managed to spark internal warfare between them and fragmented them into infighting factions. ¡°At that point, I made my way to challenge their leadership. I defeated their remaining defenders, then was attacked by their main leader. I, er, I attempted to intimidate him into standing down. It didn¡¯t work. A Radiance [Mage].¡± Ranthia was not about to admit she had impersonated a Sentinel when she did that. Fortunately for her, the Commanders were busy laughing and commenting about how the man had poor luck going up against a Mirror [Mage]. Ranthia decided not to correct the assumptions they were making and continued her report. ¡°I was forced to kill him, beheaded him to be safe. Mortally wounded [Mages] suck.¡± A few nods, though others seemed annoyed at her lack of decorum. She was really not at her best if she was making more and more mistakes. ¡°At that point the other two women in their leadership surrendered. I tied them up and gagged them, then retrieved the city guard. Assisted them with rounding up the rest of the revolutionaries and getting the hostages out safely. ¡°As soon as the guard confirmed that they could take it from there, I left town. I was far behind schedule.¡± ¡°I¡¯m surprised that report reached us before you did, Ranger.¡± One of the Commanders noted. Fuck, she should have seen that coming. They¡¯d obviously known about the incident ahead of time! ¡­Well, so much for the best, she needed to bring Verna¡ªVert¡ªup to someone anyway. The young woman had been insistent that she still wanted to be a Ranger. ¡°Um, right. I was unable to return straight to Ariminum. Earlier in my route, I had met a promising candidate for our Ranger Academy. The young woman that gave us the tip for the corrupt guard case I mentioned earlier in my report. I went to retrieve her. I¡­ hope to sponsor her entry into the Academy?¡± Only in that moment did she finally realize she had no idea if she could even do that! Fortunately, one of the Ranger Commanders that was actually a Ranger gave her directions to a specific office and told her to take the woman there. There were a few other questions asked and answered, but at length they dismissed her and told her that they would see her at the Ranger Convocation in two days. She really had cut it close. Ranthia exhaled deeply as soon as the doors closed. ¡­Only to shriek¡ªa little¡ªwhen Ocean suddenly leaned into her line of sight, smiling at her. When had he gotten there?! She had never even noticed that the man got up before she left the meeting! ¡°Well done on everything, Ranger.¡± He smiled warmly at her. ¡°Um, thank you?¡± She didn¡¯t mean to make it sound like a question, but she was in bad shape after everything. ¡°If you don¡¯t have anywhere else to stay, Sentinel Hunting asked me to give something to you if you needed it.¡± Ocean continued, handing her a key. Hunting had left her a key to his villa, outside of town. Sentinel Ocean gave her directions to go with the key. Apparently, a housekeeper came by every other day to tend to the place, but she was welcome to make use of the villa and anything inside of it. Ranthia was relieved to accept the key. It was better than staying in that hellhole tavern and her plans for staying with Hexara were¡­ well, she didn¡¯t have the luxury of thinking about that at the moment. ¡°How is Hunting, will he be here for the Convocation?¡± Ranthia asked instead, in an effort to distract herself. ¡°I hate to say it, but I doubt it. He¡¯s been staying on mission for long stretches of time for a while now. Not exactly out of character, mind you, but I don¡¯t know when he¡¯ll return to Remus next.¡± Ocean replied with an apologetic¡ªand maybe a bit forced¡ªsmile. ¡°Oh¡­ I¡­ I see. Thank you, I appreciate it.¡± Ranthia mumbled. It was probably for the best; she was sure to be shit company for a while. Ranthia, barely, managed to get Vert and her crate back to Ranger Headquarters in time. With Ranthia¡¯s recommendation, Vert was exempt from the big examination to enter the Academy¡ªwhich was good because they had already missed that¡ªand would be able to enter the Academy when it began. They were given locations about where to be and when. And honestly, Ranthia was glad¡ªthe sight of Vert¡¯s happy excitement did her heart some desperately needed good. Especially since her next stop promised to be even worse than the whole thing with Ranger Command. ¡°What do you want?¡± The quartermaster growled. He was old, intimidating, and his surliness was the stuff of legends. She had heard rumors about the man even in Ranger Academy! And here she was with a crate full of broken remnants. ¡°Um, Ranger Ranthia. Sole survivor of Ranger Team 13. Here to return what remains of our team equipment. ¡­I also need to request new armor for myself?¡± She nervously answered. She then set down the crate she had carried for so long and opened it. She had left her personal effects in Vert¡¯s room for the moment, so everything that was in the crate was what she intended to return. The quartermaster emerged and looked through it. The sealed last wills of her teammates, still unopened; she had never been able to bring herself to read them. The wagon¡¯s arcanite that she salvaged from the kraken¡¯s tentacle. The spare armor sets. A few other bits of weaponry and equipment. What remained of her armor. The recovered Ranger badges. Her fallen teammates¡¯ personal effects. So little¡­ ¡°Huh, you might just be my favorite Ranger. Team wipe and you haul this much across Remus? If we had more Rangers like you, we¡¯d be much better off. Hells, bringing what looks like at least eighty percent of the arcanite back alone is a huge help. Most Rangers just ditch everything when they lose their wagon, or if they decide something becomes too inconvenient.¡± The man offered¡­ not a smile, but an accepting nod ¡°¡­So, you¡¯re not mad?¡± Ranthia asked, in spite of her better judgment. ¡°Pfft, I¡¯m always mad. But you, you did alright by me. Help me get this crate into my office, then I¡¯ll take you to see our armorer so she can get you suited up.¡± The quartermaster ordered. Soon, Ranthia found herself in front of a woman that was somewhere close to her own age. The young woman was short and tiny, but she carried herself with a deep-seated weariness that made it hard to get a read on her age. ¡°Kid, this Ranger needs new armor. Treat her right.¡± The quartermaster stated, instead of doing something normal like making an introduction. ¡°Oh, have you actually brought me a challenge for a change? I¡¯m sure she needs this before the Convocation, but you wouldn¡¯t have brought her to me yourself for a standard assignment. What¡¯re her special requirements?¡± The woman asked. ¡°She¡¯s a Ranger, not a fucking Sentinel. Standard armor.¡± The quartermaster rebuffed her. ¡°Um, if it¡¯s not too much trouble, can I at least get sandals that can handle my flexibility? I¡¯ve had issues with sandals breaking due to how my combat class works.¡± Ranthia interrupted. She arched her feet until she was balanced on her toes and started to go through the motions of a dance in slow motion, so the duo could see the leather straining. ¡°Interesting. Tightwad, let me get a bit fancy.¡± The woman demanded, seeming to take interest in Ranthia for the first time. ¡°She¡¯s not a special project, I¡¯ll approve some extra sandal allotments, but that¡¯s it.¡± The man replied with a glare. ¡°Bah! I got hired for this godsforsaken job because I had ideas on how to innovate and improve armor designs and bring protection forward. I chose the Rangers instead of the Legions because I was promised a better opportunity. And yet, every fucking year, it¡¯s ¡®Another 888 sets of the exact same crap we¡¯ve used for almost a century now.¡¯ And every Sentinel has their own established preference, so I don¡¯t even get to innovate there. You, hurry up and become a Sentinel!¡± The woman snapped. Ranthia had no idea how to respond to that. After Ranthia left Ranger Headquarters, she made her way back through the city. First, she returned to the tavern for her belongings¡ªmiraculously still there¡ªand delivered her Adventurer armor to the shop that had crafted it. The man didn¡¯t complain, thankfully. Not that she expected him to, armor was meant to be used, and he was going to get good coin¡ªand a lot of it¡ªto restore her armor to new. After that, Ranthia decided that it was pretty late, and she should head out to Hunting¡¯s villa before the city closed. Arguably she should have eaten something but¡­ gods, food just sounded awful at the time. It didn¡¯t take her long to find the right villa. Oddly, he had an enormous, empty pen beside it. ¡­Which probably used to house his former bond, she realized guiltily. Hunting had probably been unable to make himself take the pen down. Gods and goddesses, she could understand that. The key fit in the door, and Ranthia, somewhat uncomfortably, made herself at home. Her chest of personal belongings was stowed near the kitchen. And it seemed that the housekeeper kept food stocked, if she ever convinced herself to eat. The next day, she visited her old Guildmaster. He was slightly¡­ unamused over how she used her mark for setting up a bounty system, but he did¡ªrather grudgingly¡ªadmit that it made for good publicity. He gave her permission to still use the mark on her next round, though she was barred from using it for an open bounty system again. The visit was surprisingly brief, before he excused himself for some sort of meeting. Realistically, Ranthia knew that she really should be a mature adult and apologize to Hexara for running away like that, but she just¡­ couldn¡¯t. Every time some rational tiny voice in her head recommended it, her heart rebelled so fiercely that she nearly started to cry yet again. Each time Ranthia shook her head to clear it and tried to bury the pain yet again. It wasn¡¯t planned, but when Ranthia was on her way to Ranger Headquarters, she saw her mother. The woman seemed to have aged considerably since Ranthia last saw her. Ranthia thought that it looked like the woman was having a bit of trouble with her back or her legs, yet the hateful woman still ran her stall mercilessly. Ranthia decided to keep her distance and avoided the stall while she made her way to Ranger Command. Soon enough she was in the armorer¡¯s workshop again, wearing her new Ranger armor¡ªwhich fit her even better than the old suit had. ¡°The armor is boringly bog standard, but your sandals were a treat to design. Don¡¯t tell the old miser. I used wing leather from Ornithocheirus, along with some other parts to make ¡®em. You¡¯ll find they¡¯re more flexible than our standard sandals and should be way less prone to breaking. I could do sooo much more, but ugh. The armor¡¯s sized right for that ratty vest of yours too, don¡¯t worry.¡± The woman promised. Ranthia thanked the woman, genuinely, with a smile. After she was shooed out of the workshop, she transferred her lightly damaged badge to the new armor. She was attached to the badge and had no desire to get a new one, not that she was even sure if she could. Somehow that had never come up. It wasn¡¯t like it was unrecognizable, it was just a bit¡­ worn. After that, Ranthia replenished her personal coin from her vault at the temple. She also stored the ¡®cursed¡¯ rings while she was there. They were too hard to even look at, but she just couldn¡¯t bring herself to sell them or throw them away. No matter how much she wanted to. They had meaning, even if that meaning brought her nothing but pain. The bulk of the rest of the day she spent with Vert. Ranthia was still poor company, but Vert wanted to talk to her about her ideas for her own future Mirror class once she could replace her old [Clever Thief] class. Vert wanted a class that would let her create a true duplicate of herself, one with autonomy. Ranthia wasn¡¯t¡­ entirely sure if it was possible (it probably was, but it sure as heck didn¡¯t sound easy to pull off). Still, while her own abilities were a bit different in function, Ranthia figured that the similarities were enough that she could give some advice. Her personal Adventurer armor wouldn¡¯t be ready for another few days. So, she just hit the baths¡ªfinally¡ªbefore she returned to Hunting¡¯s villa to prepare dinner. Her appetite was finally back and she gorged herself as the sun set. Then, in the precious moments between when she finished her evening prayers, yet hadn¡¯t quite decided to turn in for the night, there was a knock at the door. Seriously? Who visits a villa outside the city after nightfall? Ranthia continued to grouse and grumble while she pulled her blindfold on¡ªalready openly hating whoever was at the door¡ªbefore she answered it. ¡°Ah, Ranger Ranthia. Excellent, Ocean indicated that you should be here. Please gear up and join me.¡± Nothing good could come from Sentinel Night showing up at your door after dark. Book 1 - Chapter 51 - Duel & Direction Getting geared up rapidly was an easy habit after the Academy and her round. Vest remnants on (she really needed to visit a seamstress at some point), armor on, belt on, adjust armor to fit snug, check knives and pouches, ensure straps are locked. Done. It really didn¡¯t take her much time anymore. Soon enough, she was following Night out into the gloom at a¡­ leisurely stroll. It was dark out, but [Vision of the Void] rendered that moot passively while they just walked along the roads until they reached the seafront, then followed it. ¡°Where are we going?¡± Ranthia finally asked, unable to tolerate the silence any longer. ¡°Before I answer that question, I suppose it would be better to provide some foundation. Your report has caused a bit of a stir among Ranger Command and their support staff. Though your report largely matches what Sentinel Ocean learned from the locals when he arrived in the wake of the battle, there are many who, frankly, find it improbable. You will find the judgment of the Sentinels important for your path forward from here. The timing is, of course, inconvenient, but life often tends to skew that way.¡± The creepy man answered. Once again, he tried to give her time to process, but she needed real answers before whatever happened¡ªthe fact that he had her gear up sure suggested that this wasn¡¯t just a social call. Which meant that she needed to drive the pace of the conversation. ¡°So, what, exactly, does that mean?¡± She prompted. ¡°It means we will test you to make sure your claims bear merit.¡± Night responded. Ranthia chewed on her annoyance and decided that it was, ultimately, reasonable. Gods and goddesses, even she still struggled to believe that she had won the fight sometimes, and she had purportedly been there. ¡°Seems like a strange thing to waste your time on, but fair enough. ¡­Wait, please don¡¯t tell me I have to fight another kraken.¡± Ranthia grumbled. Sentinel Night chuckled. He chuckled! Ranthia was caught completely off-guard¡ªdid the scary man with the imposing personality have a sense of humor buried somewhere under his baggage?! ¡°No, no, nothing of the sort. I sincerely doubt there are any to be had in the Nostrum sea. You will match blades with a Sentinel, so do not fear.¡± He assured her. She wasn¡¯t exactly sure that inspired any greater comfort or confidence but pushed past it. ¡°So, we¡¯re going to some Sentinel compound?¡± She asked. ¡°A prior member of our number had constructed a sparring arena adjacent to his home. It seemed like an ideal location to avoid other eyes. One other thing, I am afraid I will need to insist that you reveal your full capabilities to us. Every stat, every skill must be laid bare.¡± Night informed her, as if it was a minor detail. Ranthia paused for a moment at those words. Most of her strained mind rebelled. Sure, she had accepted vaguely describing the effects of her skills, but giving out everything? She hadn¡¯t even done that for Hunting and she liked him¡ªnot like that (ew)¡ªwhile she barely even knew the other Sentinels, let alone trusted them. She wasn¡¯t even sure if she could trust Night; something about him just raised her hackles, much like how a cat might react poorly to an intruder. Worse, she had a strong feeling that they would need a breakdown of her weaknesses too, which felt uncomfortably like handing a bunch of powerful people¡ªnominal allies at best¡ªa step-by-step guide on how to murder her. Ranthia opened her mouth to try to refuse, or at least get concessions. Yet Night seemed to notice¡ªdespite the fact he was a couple of paces ahead of her¡ªand cut her off with yet more words. ¡°Oh, I should also note one more thing. When you recently pretended to be a Sentinel, you violated a major law in Remus. Ocean interceded on your behalf and argued that it was for a good cause and, ultimately, convinced Ranger Command to allow us discretion on your punishment. If it helps your personal comfort, please consider my orders to reveal your full capabilities and speak the full truth to us part of your punishment. Perhaps it will be the sole punishment, we shall decide that before we let you go for the night.¡± Ranthia wanted to scream and allowed herself to indulge a brief moment¡¯s fantasy of driving a [Void Edge]-empowered knife through the back of his head. She might have been tempted to follow through with the idea, if she was just a bit less certain that she¡¯d be killed before she was halfway through with the act. Sentinel Night, Sentinel Ocean, and¡­ er, four others were present. She had no idea what the titles of the others were. She had never paid that much attention to the Sentinels. Hunting wasn¡¯t there, of course. Gods and goddesses, she would have traded much for his presence. They were in a depression carved out of the ground next to a large manor made of white marble. Everything in the depression was made of stone and there were gaps around, beneath metal grating, for drainage. A raised square stone arena stood in the center of the depression. Sentinel Night gestured for her to step into the arena, while the Sentinels gathered along the ground next to the arena. It felt weird to her, since this meant she had to look down at them. ¡°You all know why we have gathered. Ranger Ranthia has quite a storied history. She has been operating as an Adventurer since she was fourteen and had assisted two Adventurers for many years before that. She has been arrested at least twice in Ariminum, once for impersonating a fictitious individual and once for her remarkably poor judgment demonstrated in bringing up a letter of inheritance shortly after her first arrest. She has received a number of other complaints in her time, including standing orders for her arrest in Aquiliea. Then she came to us as a Ranger and became the sole survivor of her team, after she fought a kraken in a feat that almost rivaled that of Toxic¡¯s own. After that, she continued her route solo, which is against protocol. During this time, she became involved in a battle against a group of revolutionaries and was accused of killing the governor in collusion with them. While simultaneously claiming to be Sentinel Mirror, a title we have not used in over eighty years.¡± Night began. Ranthia had to fight with everything she had to keep from protesting multiple times during that. Seriously, was the asshole trying to make the other Sentinels have a negative opinion of her? ¡°Ranger Ranthia, you will now share with us your full current stat and class breakdown, with the names of your classes and skills. Along with an explanation of what they do.¡± Night ordered. Ranthia swore under her breath¡ªlikely not nearly quietly enough with this group¡ªbefore she pulled her blindfold off. ¡­Not a single one of the men in front of her flinched or visibly reacted to her eyes. So much for that source of petty satisfaction. There was a strong impulse to try to escape, but she knew it would be futile. Instead, she gritted her teeth and began. ¡°Ranthia, human. Age 23. Current stats as follows: Free stats 0, Strength 5903, Dexterity 8839, Vitality 8389, Speed 7989, Mana 3160, Mana Regeneration 4471, Magic Power 2252, and Magic Control 2168. Current Mana is 14,097 out of a full capacity of 31,600. Current Mana Regen Rate is only 296.¡± A few signs of amusement. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up¡ªshe¡¯d balance her stats as soon as she classed up her Mirror class. ¡­Hopefully. ¡°My first class is a [Mage] class, Mirror-aspected, titled [Shards of Reflection], currently capped at level 256. Skills as follows¡­ ¡­[Mirror Spirit] at 256¡­ This is the highest version of the affinity skills¡ªI think¡ªand it allows me a deeper connection to my class skills than usual. [Scattered Reflections] at 256, this skill allows me to generate mirror images that look like myself and almost every skill in this class is tied to this one. [Echoes Reflected] at 163, it allows me to speak through my mirror images, though it''s only recently become mostly reliable¡ªso long as I keep it brief. [Reflective Motility] at 256, lets me move my mirror images, a process that has recently become relatively realistic though it still takes active concentration and focus for each image. [Persistent Imagery] at 256, this one allows my mirror images to take a bit more damage before they shatter and also, for some reason, improves the texture and feel of the images to make them seem more realistic. [Mirrored Moves] at 105, which lets me use my techniques from my second class in [Reflective Motility]¡ªthough they don¡¯t actually do any damage, it¡¯s still useful to draw attention, albeit less so since I changed from Dark to Void. [Distorted Likeness] at 90, I use it to modify the appearance of mirror images that I generate though it also requires a clear mental picture of the complete image to create anything. [Reflections of Reality] at 119, my most important skill in many ways, it allows me to abandon my true body and take over the body of a mirror image and use it. It allows me to fight reckless battles, so long as my true body is safe. The image becomes identical to my body while I control it. And no, before anyone asks, it does not allow me to duplicate items; anything I use or lose while I am in a mirror image disappears from any other image or my true body when I shift to them. ¡°My second class is a [Warrior] class, and at Hunting¡¯s advice I leveled it above my first class since this class is Void-aspected. Its title is [She who Dances with Chaos] and is at level 301. For unknown reasons, I was able to build this class myself instead of selecting it as normal. Its skills are not quite as interconnected as my first class¡¯s skills are, though they are heavily synergetic. [Void Affinity] at 294, I lost cap on it when I leveled significantly during¡ªand after¡ªthe battle with the kraken. [Rhythmic Grace] at 301, which wants me to dance while I fight and provides a degree of battlefield awareness and prediction analysis, while it also silences and stabilizes my footfalls and assists with my evasive capabilities due to the skills that merged into it. [Void Edge] at 301, which allows me to create a hard to see thin line of void energy across the edge of my knives, though it does not protect the knives from the energy and consumes them quickly¡ªeffectively requiring me to activate it just before impact with the target. [Flowing Momentum] at 301, this skill helps guide my knives while I move to ensure my strikes actually find their target and deal solid damage without jarring me out of my own rhythm. [Vision of the Void] at 110 is responsible for my current visage, this skill lets me see in the dark and at an active mana cost see through certain obstacles such hazes in the air and other thin obstacles, including cheap walls. [Sustained Chaos] at 59, long story short it lets me throw knives without my Skills¡¯ effects immediately cutting off. [Echoes of Devastation] at 301, basically when I strike a target, a follow-up strike comes a moment later at reduced power that strikes the same point, lets me cut deeper with a single stroke of my knife. [True Grace] at level 88, while I¡¯m dancing all of my skills get a small boost, currently less than two percent; it also is adjusting my body to help with my dancing, whatever that means. ¡°My general skills are, largely, meant to supplement my classes. First, I have¡ª¡± Ranthia paused. Night¡¯s eyes practically bore into her own as his gaze intensified. How had he known she was about to lie?! Ranthia spat another curse, not quite as subtly as she had before, before she balled her fists and continued. ¡°I¡­ Well, here goes¡­ [Divine-Touched Identify] at 301, which is bound to me due to the actions I took in my past life, this skill lets me see the generalized class tag and element for every class anyone has, it¡¯s also a passive. [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] at 90, a skill that formed based on a vow I made to my patron deity, it makes my Mirror skills far more mana efficient, which was basically required to even use my first class. [Ranger¡¯s Lore] at 301, I assume I don¡¯t need to explain that one. [Stealth] at 73, I don¡¯t plan to keep this one, I just took it to try to save the hostages since I expected that they¡¯d be killed if I went in directly. [Combat Awareness] at 297, lets me sense any sort of attack or certain other action with malicious intent within a certain, small radius of myself, only a few steps worth; and yes, I¡¯ve experienced that it can be beaten. [Fast Learner] at 221, it¡¯s a skill that increases my learning speed and offers a modest boost to experience gains. [Image Recall] at 178, a skill I learned to deal with [Distorted Likeness] which lets me store and recall mental images I build, also helps with modifying existing ones. And, um, [Sexy] at 211, which¡­ well, y¡¯know.¡± Ranthia had tried to tune it out, but there were clear reactions to several of her skills, [Mirror Spirit] and [Divine-Touched Identify] got the largest responses out of the Sentinels, unsurprisingly. Then almost the moment she finished, the reason she was on the stage made itself clear. A privacy barrier flickered into existence across the entire raised combat arena, which cut off her view of¡ªand the sounds from¡ªthe gathered Sentinels and made it impossible to overhear their reactions. She had no idea if the barrier was a Skill or an inscription, but not even [Vision of the Void] helped her see through it. She paced nervously and wrung her hands. She hated this. She had to bare herself to these self-centered assholes just because she was a Ranger? She was completely at their mercy too¡ªif they decided to execute her, she would barely be able to put up a fight even if she had attacked Night before they arrived. But now they knew exactly how to kill her¡ªthey just needed to smash her true body if she shifted to another mirror image. What would happen if they did? Would she just crumble away into dust immediately? Would she die slowly? Would she suffer, or would she never even realize what happened and just cease to exist and be forced before Xaoc again? ¡­Would He even bother to intercede with her again? The fact that her [Covenant] wasn¡¯t capped made it clear that she still struggled to bring chaos into the world. Somehow, she expected to just be cast back into the cycle of souls if she died at this point. ¡­Then, of course, the thoughts of how much of a failure she was cascaded and soon Hexara and her dead team and her myriad of other failures bombarded her. She lost the pattern of her breathing and had to try to fight into a more meditative state to get her head back on straight. She swore and sent Xaoc a quick prayer. He took a surprisingly large portion of her mana to hear her prayer, which she hoped was a good sign. That or He knew she was about to die and tried to get what He could out of His failed disciple¡¯s final moments. It wasn¡¯t like her vest and choker¡ªwhy was she still wearing Hexara¡¯s gift?¡ªcould refill her mana as they were. Fuck she hated the sense of helplessness; she had fought ever since she woke up in Perinthus to be able to defend herself. And yet this was as far as her ambitions had taken her. Fifteen years and she was at the mercy of a pack of men she barely knew.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. And all she could do was prepare herself for a final dance. If this whole thing had been an excuse to kill her¡ªand why else would they need to know her full capabilities¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t go down without a fight. It wouldn¡¯t be much of a fight, she knew, but she was determined to inflict a bit of damage if that¡¯s what it came down to. At length, the privacy barrier deactivated. Wordlessly, Sentinel Night stepped onto the raised arena, knives that looked to be carved from some sort of bone or horn in his hands. ¡°We will now commence the physical test, to see if you were capable of defeating the kraken as you reported. You may use all of your abilities except for your [Void Edge] in this duel. In light of that skill, I will make assumptions in your favor and assume that any time one of your knives touch me that it will be a crippling blow and pretend I have lost the use of that portion of my form. Do you have sufficient arcanite on your person to top off your mana?¡± Ranthia had been prepared for many things. An attack. A death she never saw coming. A bombardment of questions or accusations. Even just mundane mockery for having a personal vanity skill. For them to shrug it all off and just move forward? That was not one of the outcomes she had expected! ¡°Oh, uh¡­ no? It went down some more since I prayed to Xaoc.¡± Ranthia explained after a moment. ¡°Toxic, I believe you were the one with the arcanite bag?¡± Night prompted. A massive man seemed to pop out of nowhere behind one of his¡ªmuch smaller¡ªpeers before he waved her over. Ranthia awkwardly shuffled off the stage and nervously approached the Sentinels. A few of the others greeted her while she positioned herself behind the group, created a mirror image, and shifted to it¡ªhey, Night said to use all of her abilities. ¡°Can you guys protect my real body while I do this?¡± She asked, to a couple of nods. After that she stuck her hand in the proffered backpack and pulled mana from the arcanite until she was topped off, trying to slyly keep a close eye on her body the whole time. She was already channeling too¡ªif any of them made a move for her true body she was ready to shift back as swiftly as she could. As if her shifting or her reaction speeds could match most of the levels she was seeing. Nothing went awry¡ªso far¡ªand once her mana was full and her channel was held ready, she tried to swallow her nerves and hopped back onto the stage of the arena. How had she gotten into this mess? There was no way this would end well. ¡°You may begin as soon as you are ready.¡± Night announced. With a mental effort, Ranthia shoved everything to the side. She just had to face the most terrifying creature she had ever seen¡ªyes, he beat out even the kraken by a large margin, no matter what the levels reported¡ªwhile witnessed by humanity¡¯s elites. Simple. Ranthia began. Her first swipes with her knives met only air. But, filled with nerves or not, the rhythm came to her. Grace seeped into her motions, then flowed from them. Her initial probes were laughable, but as she fell into the dance of the duel they became as beautiful as any she had ever made. There was just one major problem: her knives still couldn¡¯t touch the man. Her senses swore Night never moved, but every sweep of her blade only entered thin air. [Rhythmic Grace] and [Flowing Momentum] guided her, enhanced by [True Grace], but they weren¡¯t enough. Not for the true monster that she dueled. Well, if her second class wouldn¡¯t be enough¡ªnot that she had honestly expected it to be¡ªshe still had her true dance. She had, in many ways, discovered the full breadth of her potential while she fought the kraken; if she couldn¡¯t reach the [Warrior] not quite twice her level with them, she wouldn¡¯t. One by one she sent out mirror images and animated them with their own steps in tune with her movements. They began to strike and, for the first time in the duel¡ªshe shifted. Even as new images were introduced while others were allowed to fall idle or were dismissed. She strove to embody chaos in the duel¡ªshe needed to keep him guessing and overwhelm his own ability to [Identify] which body she was in. Yet nothing worked. Sentinel Night might as well have been a hallucination. Her blades were just completely unable to reach him. [Sustained Chaos] entered her dance at opportune moments, but even the thrown blades only sailed through the air. One of the other Sentinels¡ªthe one with the stupid pun name¡ªcaught blades that went past the boundary of the arena and stacked them neatly. It was absurd. How could this pale, terrifying man be so much more than she was? Sure, he out leveled her by a large margin, but the kraken had been a substantial step further than him. She could see him clearly¡ªeven [Vision of the Void] was confident that the damned asshole was right there¡ªyet she just wasn¡¯t good enough to reach him. Worse, he wasn¡¯t even bothering to counterattack, he was just¡ªsomehow¡ªavoiding everything that she attempted. Ranthia pressed herself further, seeking the deepest depths of her skills; she was certain that she had fought better against the kraken. She took greater risks. She pulled from her own arcanite when her mana waned. She tried to lean more heavily into her strength and dexterity. At one point, Night finally parried a thrust with his own knife. Both discarded their blades, as if they had been destroyed in the clash. But even with him reduced to a single knife, she couldn¡¯t make him use it again. At length, she pulled back and cursed. Her mana was nearly depleted. She had struggled for a substantial part of the night¡ªyes, against Night at night, hilarious¡ªto no effect. ¡°I yield, this is pointless! I¡¯m on my last pair of knives and I¡¯m nearly out of mana.¡± She snarled. She had saved just enough mana¡ªbarely¡ªfor a final shift back to her true body, but she sorely doubted pushing herself to zero would change anything. Sentinel Night calmly retrieved his discarded knife and put his blades away before he responded. ¡°I see.¡± That was all he said. Ranthia wanted to scream. The fucker had a cart full of words normally, and now¡ªafter all of this¡ªhe just left it at ¡®I see¡¯!? Gods and goddesses, Ranthia wished more than ever that she had managed to stab the asshole! The other Sentinels conversed quietly, but not quietly enough. Oddly, they didn¡¯t reengage the privacy ward. ¡°Would that really have been enough to beat a kraken with that level? Even if it was a juvenile?¡± One of the men asked audibly. There were¡­ multiple things to unpack there, but Ranthia sighed and moved back to the center of the arena. ¡°I didn¡¯t win that fight unscathed. I won because of a quirk of [Reflections of Reality].¡± Ranthia interrupted¡ªearning her more than a few glares. Ranthia ignored the glares and started to channel once again. A moment later, she started a new dance while she theatrically spun her knives. Once she was in the full embrace of the grace of her dance, she made her move. [Void Edge] activated, [Echoes of Devastation] would ensure the blow did what she needed and [Flowing Momentum] would keep her armor safe. She entered a twirl and severed her own raised leg just above the knee. A heartbeat later her other hand drove a fully empowered knife through the arm that she used to cut her own leg. The Void energy did its job perfectly and both limbs sailed away from her, driven by the momentum behind her dance. [Rhythmic Grace] and her own dexterity let her balance easily on the toes of her remaining leg while she slowed. Someone called for one of Dawn¡¯s moonstones, whatever that meant. ¡°This is how I won.¡± Ranthia announced calmly, barely bothered by the pain. The kraken had put her through so much worse. While she spoke, she indicated the blood that flowed from her wounds. Then she released the channel and waited until she was back in her true body. ¡°And now I am whole. You¡¯ll note my bracer and sandal are missing, but my lost limbs are back and I¡¯m no worse for wear. Though if I had struck my armor the damage to the armor would have transferred with me, just like my knives are still gone after the Void consumed them.¡± Ranthia explained while she swept past the men and hopped back onto the stage. She backhanded the wounded mirror image. It shattered and disappeared, the blood that it had spilled disappeared with it. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me why, but injury and blood loss don¡¯t matter. As long as I survive the injury long enough to shift to another mirror image, injuries to my mirror image bodies that I sustain are irrelevant. They just cause pain. And after my battle with the kraken, pain doesn¡¯t bother me so much anymore.¡± Ranthia bowed¡ªperformer style¡ªafter she concluded her little speech. Well, that at least seemed to break the professional calm the other Sentinels had maintained; they entered a chaotic tizzy. At length, the Sentinels had calmed down. ¡­Aided by some Skill of Ocean¡¯s and a few quiet words from Night to get them focused before they could start to openly brawl. How that had nearly escalated into a brawl was something Ranthia couldn¡¯t understand. Sentinels were weird. ¡°So, you claim you¡¯re unkillable?¡± One of the ones she didn¡¯t know asked. ¡°Ugh, by Xaoc, no. I literally said blows that don¡¯t outright kill me! When I¡¯m in a mirror image body its form IS my body. If I die, I¡¯m dead. Also, if anything happened to my true body, which is only as durable as any of my mirror images while I¡¯m out of it.¡± Ranthia replied. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier for you to fight naked then?¡± A different Sentinel asked with transparent eagerness. Another brawl broke out, but Sentinel Night and Sentinel Ocean sorted it out swiftly. Ranthia chose to ignore that question, she didn¡¯t know the man but her opinion of him had plummeted. ¡°Share with us the classes and types of adversaries that you believe you are most ill-suited to face.¡± Sentinel Night ordered. Of fucking course he did, the godsdamned monster. ¡°¡­Fine. Any [Mage] or monster that can surround themselves with something I can¡¯t get through alive. Lava, Dark, or Void would probably be the worst. The proverbial Storm [Mage] that somehow doesn¡¯t suck. Radiance or Brilliance mages can be deadly too, since they can shoot faster than I can react. And no, nothing in my Mirror kit handles those. Certain classers or monsters I might be able to get to, since I don¡¯t necessarily have to come out the other side in one piece. Inferno, Spore, Miasma, or Poison that doesn¡¯t kill me immediately, for example. A clever [Warrior] that absolutely overpowers me on stats¡ªI might only get one chance at a surprise before they learn how I work. There¡¯s no such thing as a perfect class for all situations!¡± Ranthia explained, feeling defensive and overly exposed at the same time. It was unpleasant. Even if she had completely expected the question to come up. It was also a question Ranthia often asked herself as she gamed out and strategized potential battles and opponents. Knowing what she couldn¡¯t engage with was invaluable. The other questions came and went. Ranthia confirmed from Sentinel Ocean that the kraken she fought had been a juvenile, nowhere near full size. Juvenile and almost level 800. The Ocean was a freaking absurd place and her belief that the people that willingly chose to live in Massilix were completely insane was reinforced. At length they finished. Ranthia found herself back at Hunting¡¯s villa with barely enough time for a quick nap before she had to prepare for the Ranger Convocation. Even then, she grabbed her nap in her armor, which bought her a few precious extra moments of rest before she had to head for Ranger Headquarters. She could stuff food in her face while she ran. It had been a bad round. Almost every Ranger team had missing members, and more often than not there was more than one empty place on their bench. Ranger Team 9¡¯s bench was empty. Ranthia sat alone on Ranger Team 13¡¯s bench. Two teams were down to four. This round had been worse than average, if the somber mood meant anything. Ranthia found just being in the room required immense mental effort. It reminded her of trying to hold her channel for a long period of time. An unnatural pressure that made it hard to think or act. She couldn¡¯t even bring herself to look for the faces she knew, lest she noted those that were absent. And yet Command made their speeches, same as always. As if nothing was wrong, as if it was any other Convocation. Then it came time for the Indomitable Wall to absorb more grief. Team leaders, established or acting, rose when their team was called. Always the same refrain. Always a dearth of information. Just names and the same recitation. Bia didn¡¯t make it. Her actual name went on the wall, and even then Ranthia couldn¡¯t absorb it. Her heart ached for the loss of Bia, her fake one-time sister for all of a couple of weeks¡ªcounting preparation. And then, a short time later¡­ ¡°Team 13.¡± The Commander called. Ranthia stood and faced the wall without seeing it. The scroll she held was unrolled, but she barely had to glance at it as she recited the names. ¡°Velius Leoios Enduris.¡± She said, alone. ¡°Brave Ranger. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± They said together. A tap sounded, as his name was consigned to the wall. ¡°Sulbius Republius Maxius.¡± Was next. ¡°Brave Ranger. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± The too-often repeated mantra. Another tap. ¡°Resinius Hallus Stellius.¡± ¡°Brave Ranger. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± Tap. ¡°Ambrusius Penticus Primaris.¡± Why didn¡¯t they call them Rangers for this? ¡°Brave Ranger. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± Tap. ¡°Cunius Mettlea Ambucus.¡± She wished she could at least say that he died facing a kraken, heroic. ¡°Brave Ranger. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± Tap. ¡°Secundia.¡± She died trying to save children, the future of Remus¡ªand she only gets a single godsdamned word. ¡°Brave Ranger. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± No change in the chorus. Tap. She too was consigned to the wall. ¡°Castricius Pibius Bombos.¡± The least heroic of the set. She couldn¡¯t even appreciate how stupid his ¡®fancy¡¯ name was. ¡°Brave Ranger. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.¡± Yet he got the same refrain. The final Tap for Ranger Team 13, as he was consigned to be just another name among the countless. Ranthia returned to her seat, uncertain how she kept her eyes dry beneath her blindfold. At least she was permitted to wear it for this, her eyes could show as much pain as she wanted. At length, the final moment of silence came to an end as the final Ranger Team finished its report. It had been a bad two-year period. Several of the Academy graduates looked far less excited than they had earlier. The Adventurers beat the odds though. Only two casualties, from their former B-Ranked brethren. The rest of them still sat with their teams. Other faces that Ranthia remembered from her time at the Ranger Academy were missing though. Statia was still there, but many, many others were not. It made sense, fresh Rangers died far more often than veterans. Ranthia¡¯s team had been a horrendous exception to that rule of thumb. Experience and sheer levels helped. Until they weren¡¯t enough, but that often led to an empty bench. New teams were formed. ¡°Ranger Team 6. Green, Ranthia, Memmina Primus Artellus, Lysia, Abillo, Hyrria Tertia Sinna, Juvenae, Pyra.¡± ¡­Seriously, she was going to be the second-in-command after a single round? Ranthia was distracted after that and completely failed to pay attention to what teams Statia or Kaesios or any of her other friends or acquaintances went to. After all teams were assigned, two Rangers were called to the stage. They looked skittish as they approached, unsure of the situation. Ranthia could practically see the realizations dawn on them in real time, as uncertainty turned to¡­ smugness. The woman was presented first. ¡°A Ranger. At least one round. The undisputed best in her field. A grand feat. An open seat. The ability to survive on your own. Powerful combat prowess. Able to move through Remus and beyond, solving problems.¡± The Commander announced. ¡°She came to us from the frontlines. Her flight skill is unprecedented in its utility and scope. She has fought against the shimagu threat with the Legion. She has fought monsters and worse in Remus as a Ranger. And she single-handedly evacuated an entire village ahead of danger, then returned them when the threat passed.¡± The Commander worked the crowd. ¡°We hereby name you, The Aurora Sentinel!¡± The Commander called out as he pinned an eagle over a starburst on her chest. Ranthia completely failed to get her name to stick in her memory, naturally. ¡°But we are not done yet. There is another Ranger who has accomplished his own grand feat, and we have a second open seat to fill. ¡°He has been with us for three rotations. He has never taken a single wound. He defeated a river monster that was over level 700, solo, before it could reach the city it was approaching. He fought for three days and three nights, but in the end, he was victorious! ¡°We hereby name you, The Silver Sentinel!¡± The Commander called out and pinned a second starburst eagle onto the chest of the man. What the actual fuck? Ranthia was¡­ floored. No, she was pissed. It didn¡¯t even make sense! She never took a single wound. She defeated a sea monster nearly level 800, solo. In two days and two nights¡ªapparently, not that she quite believed it sometimes. Okay, no, she really hadn¡¯t ever given serious consideration to being a Sentinel. It had never really been a goal. She hadn¡¯t even planned on doing a second round, until it became clear that there was nothing in Ariminum for her anymore. It wasn¡¯t like she had anything better to do, and helping people¡­ it mattered. But seeing what was just a¡­ pale imitation of her own merits get named Sentinel over her? She ground her teeth in her seat, alone on her bench. He had come from one of the very few benches that had its full team. Everyone else cheered. She was unable to even fake it. What had last night even been about? It wasn¡¯t like she had her hopes up for anything, but the man¡¯s existence just burned like an insult levied directly at her. Book 1 - Chapter 52 - A Flower in a Garden Ranthia was somewhere between over her anger and back in her self-loathing misery by the time the afterparty started. She sampled some of the foods without much appetite, until she suddenly found herself embraced. Godsdamnit Statia! Ranthia nearly lashed out before she realized the sudden hug had come from an old friend! ¡°Are you okay?¡± The younger woman asked seriously, before Ranthia could figure out what to say to her. ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± Ranthia paused. She had planned to say she was fine, but it was too blatant of a lie. Instead, she said: ¡°I¡¯m here, the rest will come in time.¡± That had to be good enough. And then she staggered as someone punched her from behind. [Combat Awareness] had warned her, but with Statia clinging to her she hadn¡¯t been able to react in time. Kaesios slipped into view before she managed to pull herself free, with a shit-eating grin. ¡°Told you that you were one of the best Rangers they¡¯ve got, I knew you¡¯d be back no matter what!¡± The man smugly announced while Statia and Ranthia both shot him dirty looks. Neither of them asked about the blindfold¡ªthey knew she¡¯d have seen a [Healer] if it was an injury. Ranthia had no idea what assumptions either of her friends made, but they made them in silence and didn¡¯t seem to be judging her, at the very least. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be meeting your team or something?¡± Ranthia grumbled at the man. She was in no mood to be reminded of the loss of her team. She wanted out of the damned nameless room, but she was obligated to be there. ¡°Oh, right. Ahem, my name is Kaesios, the best Adventurer that became a Ranger to date.¡± The man announced gravely to Statia. Statia released Ranthia¡ªfinally¡ªand saluted him. ¡°Statia, pleased to serve under you, sir!¡± She replied. Ranthia just groaned. ¡°Please tell me that they didn¡¯t make him a Team Leader.¡± ¡°Nah, I¡¯m only the third, she¡¯s fourth though. We can¡¯t all luck into jumping an unholy number of levels¡ªand no I¡¯m not asking about it¡ªand end up second-in-command already.¡± Kaesios replied cheekily. ¡°We really should meet the others though. Don¡¯t be a stranger, okay?¡± Statia looked worriedly back to Ranthia. ¡°I won¡¯t, go on and have fun.¡± Ranthia replied, before she turned back to get more of whatever that spicy messy legume-based food was. And, naturally, before she got to touch anything, she heard someone gently call her name. Ranthia bit down the flare of frustration and turned toward the voice. At first, she assumed the older woman had green hair, but when she got closer, she realized that it was something more like moss that hung from the woman¡¯s head. Ranger Green, presumably. Not that Ranthia was confident enough in her blind guess to say it out loud. ¡°Ah, you must be Ranger Ranthia. May I assume you¡¯re named for the Amaranth herb?¡± The woman asked, smiling warmly while she approached. Ranthia nodded, caught off-guard by that being the first question out of the woman¡¯s mouth. ¡°Excellent! Welcome Flower. Shall we and the rest of our garden get introduced?¡± At least the woman¡¯s second question¡ªonce Ranthia realized its intent¡ªmade more sense. She had more than a bit of dread though over the whole ¡®Flower¡¯ and ¡®Garden¡¯ thing. It was a¡­ strange team, to say the least. ¡°I am Green¡ªjust Green, changed my name legally when I became a citizen. Level 364 Verdant [Mage], level 326 Forest [Mage]. I will do everything in my power to keep you sweet buds alive, along with our Flower and Shrub here.¡± The mature woman announced once the eight of them were gathered in a quiet corner of the room¡ªentirely too close to that damned wall. The strange woman with wildly unsurprising class archetypes looked to Ranthia expectantly. ¡°Ranthia. Level 256 Mirror [Mage], hoping to class up before we leave town. I use it to create mirror images that I can control and I can leave my body behind to inhabit one of the images. Lead class is level 301 as a Void [Warrior]. Think dance-style combat. I expect I¡¯ll be at the front for our engagements.¡± Simple, sweet. She was never going under her restrictions again, so she wanted to be up front with her new team. ¡°Memmina Primus Artellus, but for the love of the gods just call me Art. Artellus if you must. Level 280 Fire [Warrior], level 240 Metal [Mage]. My whole trick is making short lived weaponry that¡¯s ideal for any encounter and my hands get hot. Think of me as a frontline support.¡± A man several years older than Ranthia said. ¡°Lysia! Level 191 Mantle [Warrior], level 128 Metal [Warrior]. Also hoping to class up before we leave, been waiting to be a real Ranger! I might be short but I¡¯m basically impossible to knock down, so with my big shield¡ªShelly here¡ªI can hold a line like no one else!¡± A remarkably tiny, excitable woman roughly around Ranthia¡¯s age called out. ¡°Abillo, and no I don¡¯t know where my dad got the name from, don¡¯t ask me. Level 169 Mist [Mage], level 158 Ice [Mage]. I¡¯m the cloud that perforates your enemies.¡± Another woman about Ranthia¡¯s age noted in monotone. ¡°Hyrria Tertia Sinna, and yes of the Hyrria family. Charmed, I¡¯m sure. Level 246 Gale [Warrior], level 200 Spatial [Mage]. Give me a good, well-made spear and I can throw it through a stone wall. Then call it back into my hand and do it again.¡± A cosmetic-covered young woman a couple of years Ranthia¡¯s senior smiled. ¡°Juvenae. [Mage]. Level 201 Metal, level 150 Pyronox. Obvious what I do with it.¡± A quiet woman slightly older than Tertia muttered. ¡°Pyra here! Level 150 Inferno, level 150 Pyronox! Been friends with Juvenae my whole life! Oh, I¡¯m also a [Mage]. Gotta get in close though. Then fwooooosh! Oh, I got really good at the Academy about controlling my spillage though, so don¡¯t worry. I will definitely not burn any of you! ¡­Except Lysia, I guess, ¡®cause I kinda burned her a lot in the Academy. Sorry again!¡± The youngest woman visibly tried to guide her train of thought. Ranthia twitched, internally. What Xaoc-cursed sort of team was this? Three experienced Rangers and five fresh-faced Academy graduates? Also, seven women, six of them young, with one man felt like they were just asking for harassment incidents! Green called for the group to dismiss and have fun, and promised they could gather again at the end of the party. Ranthia was determined to do her best to remember names this time around. But first she wanted to check something. ¡°Hey, um¡­ Ark?¡± She guessed. So much for her determination to learn names. ¡°Art. What can I do for you, Subleader?¡± The man replied, with an awkward smile. ¡°Ugh, look there¡¯s no way for me to say this without coming off like an asshole and I¡¯m sorry but¡­ Is it going to be a problem, with you in an otherwise all female Ranger team?¡± Ranthia asked with a stiff expression, even as she hated herself anew. Why did she convince herself that she needed to deal with this herself? ¡°No? I mean, women or men I¡¯m fine with taking orders and fighting alongside you?¡± He was confused. Godsdamnit, he was honestly confused at what she was getting at! Ranthia muttered a curse under her breath. She should be condemned for what she would have to say. ¡°No, I mean¡­ Ugh, look, I¡¯m just trying to make sure there¡¯s no problems with harassment.¡± Ranthia forced herself to say the words. ¡°Hara-¡­Oh! Oh, no! No reason to worry about that at all. I mean, I like women well enough¡ªmen too¡ªbut I¡¯m not really the type to do stuff like that. Can¡¯t stand men like that and I don¡¯t think you have to worry about me ever being like them. I¡¯m not really¡­¡± The man replied, though he trailed off looking self-conscious. Of course he was self-conscious! Ranthia clenched her fists in self-directed frustration, while she struggled against the self-loathing that threatened to swallow her again. It was all too easy to give in, but she needed to make things right. ¡°Oh Xaoc, I am so sorry, I just¡­ I wanted to make sure the team would be okay.¡± Ranthia tried to reassure the man She would have been okay with divine judgment striking her down at that moment. This was so godsdamned awful! ¡°Hey, no worries. You¡¯re worried about the newbies, I¡¯m not gonna fuss about that! And it¡¯s not like you had any way to know.¡± He offered, proving he was a better person than Ranthia was. ¡°Okay. But I am sorry.¡± Ranthia offered. ¡°Ugh, I think my dad¡¯s looking for me over there. If he sees me even speak to a woman, he¡¯s going to make assumptions and get his hopes up for grandkids again. Makes having friends such a¡­ Well, I¡¯ll see you around, Subleader!¡± He gave her a quick salute and then melted into the crowds. Ranthia returned to the food, still vaguely mortified and frustrated with herself. She fixed up a plate before things could get too picked through, though she regretted the lack of rabbit stew on offer this year. It really had been too long since she last had a bowl, maybe she could hunt a few soon. ¡°Hiiii!¡± A painfully energetic voice called from behind. Ranthia turned to find the tiny girl with the giant shield. Shelly. ¡­Wait, no, that was the stupid shield¡¯s name. Why did that stick? ¡°Hello.¡± Ranthia answered, belatedly. ¡°Oh no! Did you already forget who I am?! I always worry about that, I¡¯m soooo tiny I bet I don¡¯t stick out much! I¡¯m Lysia! I¡¯m on your team, #2 Ma¡¯am, Sir!¡± The short girl with curly blonde hair practically seemed to vibrate. ¡°Oh, um, I remembered you. Sorry Lysia, did you need something?¡± Ranthia asked, managing to hold the name for the moment. ¡°I just haaaaad to ask! Why are you blind? Er, no, I meant to ask why you wear that when you obviously see!¡± The girl¡ªshe was roughly Ranthia¡¯s age, but her behavior made her seem much younger. ¡°¡­I have a Skill, but it makes my eyes creepy. I can see through the blindfold just fine, so it makes life easier.¡± Ranthia answered. ¡°Ooooh! Show me! Showmeshowmeshowme!¡± Was a response that wasn¡¯t even slightly surprising. ¡°¡­Maybe later, I don¡¯t want to make a scene at a party.¡± Ranthia offered with a slight grimace. ¡°Aw, okay. But soon! I want to see! I don¡¯t creep out easy! I¡¯ve even petted a snake! ¡­I think pretty much anything is cute, really.¡± The short girl sounded so proud of herself. ¡°That¡¯s a good way to be.¡± Ranthia decided, a hint of a smile crossing her face. It was kind of hard not to feel a bit fond of her; the girl¡ªwoman, technically¡ªhad an energy and an enthusiasm that Ranthia wasn¡¯t quite sure she ever possessed. Lysia bounced back into the crowds, heading for a different food table with sweets. The rest of the party passed without incident. Ranthia had another short conversation with Statia, that was mostly Statia trying to be comforting and supportive. She spoke briefly to several other Adventurers and was introduced to the Adventurers that were among the new graduates of Ranger Academy¡ªa few familiar faces, but none that she knew well. It was good to see that Adventurers were still being well-represented. Speaking of representation, Ranthia was more than a little surprised to see two dwarves among the newly graduated Rangers. The duo seemed to not be identifying themselves as such openly, but the frantic whispers among the rest of their team sure suggested that they, at least, were told. It was interesting, but not Ranthia¡¯s business. She could only hope that it was a sign of the Remus to come. Rigira had been forced to mask who and what she was when she explored the city, but perhaps Remus could be better than that.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The closest thing to an incident that happened during the celebration was one of the Academy graduates got a bit too carried away and made himself violently ill¡ªright next to a senator. It was a fun bit of harmless chaos, at least. Near the end of the party, Ranger Team 6 reassembled. ¡°Flower, Vibrant Bud, do you both have a safe place to do your class up?¡± Green asked. It seemed to take Ranthia and Lysia a moment to realize that she was referring to them. ¡°Oh, yeah. Sentinel Hunting gave me the use of his place while I was in town. I picked up someone for the Ranger Academy; I can get her to watch over me while I class up. I¡¯ve got plans to give her some writing tasks to work on anyhow.¡± Ranthia answered. She might have hated learning to read and write, but Vert was even worse off than she had been. It was time to spread the misery er, help her disciple¡¯s path forward be as well outlined as possible. ¡°Oooh, I could use a place! Can I come too!?¡± Lysia begged. ¡°Vibrant Bud, why don¡¯t you come with me? You can class up at my store, I have a very cozy place with lots of sun and comfy cushions you can use. In fact, we can all meet there each morning for breakfast. I would love to feed you all and we can get to know one another. We shall plan to depart in five days. That should give me time to coerce what I can out of that old goat of a quartermaster and get the planting started.¡± Green offered before Ranthia could reply. Plans set, the older woman gave them directions on where to go¡ªand got directions from Ranthia to the villa just in case her class up ran weirdly long. Then they broke for the day. Ranthia retrieved Vert from the Adventurer¡¯s Guild training yards (apparently, she could have brought Vert to the party as a tagalong, but she hadn¡¯t known that ahead of time) and brought her back to Hunting¡¯s villa¡ªbarely catching the gates before they shut for the night. Ranthia recreated some basic reading and writing exercises that she had done so long ago at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, then the two women settled in to get some sleep. In different rooms, of course. They both fully intended to enjoy what privacy and comfort they could get before it was stripped away. The next morning, Ranthia cooked them a big breakfast of eggs, sausage, and spiced gruel¡ªgrateful again to Hunting¡¯s incredible housekeeper¡ªand set the young woman on her assignments while Ranthia settled into an oversized cushion and shut her eyes. It was time for her to fall into the world within and class up her Mirror class. Ranthia was somewhat disappointed to see the door to the temple wasn¡¯t there. Her guide rolled her eyes behind the counter, keenly aware of Ranthia¡¯s disappointment. Still, Ranthia drew the short sword for [Shards of Reflection] and set it down on the counter. ¡°It¡¯s been a good class. But time marches on. ¡­Though I guess this will be the last time we¡¯ll see each other for a while. I mean, I¡¯m confident that I¡¯ll reach level 512¡ªno matter how few throughout Remus¡¯ history have. But that will be many, many years off with how slow leveling gets from here.¡± Her guide shrugged. ¡°Not like my existence is dependent on your visits. If anything, you just make me work. I¡¯m guessing you want me to go find you your next class now?¡± The woman¡ªnearly a twin to Ranthia now, after so much time¡ªreplied. Ranthia chuckled at her guide¡¯s cheekiness and nodded her affirmation. ¡°Yessss Mistresssss¡­¡± Her guide grumbled, then shuffled back among the racks and stacks of short swords. Well, at least without dealing with the temple she would be faster. Making assignments for Vert had proven more time-consuming than she had initially expected; honestly, there was a good chance Vert would be done somewhere around lunch time. If this class up went quickly enough she could get back to her disciple and work with her for the rest of the day! ¡­Gods and goddesses, she had gotten boring at some point without noticing. On one hand, the delay on Ranger Team 6¡¯s departure was great for more time to help Vert be ready for the Ranger Academy¡ªeven if it meant she had to watch her mouth about the hell months for a bit longer. But on the other, it also left Ranthia¡­ unsure what to do with herself. Team breakfast meetings and Vert tutelage didn¡¯t make for a fully booked day, unless she really wanted to get under her disciple¡¯s skin and make the younger woman relieved when she finally left. But Ariminum had nothing for her anymore except pain and discomfort. Her guide returned, with three swords. Ranthia quirked an eyebrow and was about to speak, but her guide spoke first. ¡°I know you expect me to just pick the class that meets your plan, but from here we don¡¯t exactly have a clear plan anymore. Each of these keeps what our class does, more or less, but specializes in a different way.¡± The woman explained. ¡°So, these are the only three interesting classes?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Interesting? No. You want interesting, you have the [Mirror in the Depths] class I left back there. Damn thing is dark blue. Amazing stats. Except it makes you almost entirely useless out of the water. You¡¯d get a skill that gives you gills, but it would need to reach a very high level to be able to breathe air again with them. Much of your kit would only work underwater too. That¡¯s interesting. ¡°Then you have a [Ranger Mage] that turns you into a more standard Mirror [Mage]. You would get barriers and blasts, but you¡¯d lose almost everything you can currently do except making static images. Its stats are actually fairly close to these for some reason, despite being a sidegrade. Interesting. ¡°But you don¡¯t want interesting. You want viable¡ªsomething that meets the goals we set. That would be these three.¡± Her guide replied. Fair enough. Ranthia let her guide set out the three short swords. Each hilt was wrapped in green and adorned with pyrite in the pommel. Ranthia touched the first, the brighter green blade. [Unbroken Mirror]. This class rewarded the restrictions she had operated under. Her mirror images¡ªand her body when she abandoned it¡ªwould grow far more robust and would be able to take actual punishment before they broke. There was even a skill that would let them regenerate¡ªusing her mana¡ªfrom damage that merely cracked them without breaking them. On the flip side, she would be restricted to no more than 3 mirror images and [Reflective Motility] would downgrade to [Simple Motions for Mirrors]. She would still be able to shift, but there would be a cooldown. Still, there was a lot to be said for her mirror images becoming better than some barriers, let alone such a major increase to her true body¡¯s safety. 400 stat points, focused on Vitality and Magic Power. The next one was a regular green. [Reflections of a Heroine]. This was, ultimately, a straight upgrade of her current [Shards of Reflection] class. Nothing changed dramatically, just steady improvements. The biggest boon came in the form of [Distorted Likeness] getting an evolution that would let her create mirror images of nearly anything she wanted. She wouldn¡¯t be able to shift into anything that was too far removed from her current form like, say, a ladybug¡¯s body. But she would get another option to share senses with her images. She would also be able to make more mirror images than ever. It was an interesting evolution path that reflected how she actually used her class¡ªwith swarms of distracting images. Except it would let her, eventually, use them for scouting too. 444 stat points, focused on mana and mana regeneration¡ªtwo stats she was in desperate need of. The last was a slightly darker green. [Diffuse Reflectance]. This class would focus on her existing mirror images. The skill she often considered to be at the top of her list for replacement, [Mirrored Moves], would evolve and her mirror images would be able to attack for real¡­ Albeit at a fixed 1% of her own power, which was less than impressive as she was. [Reflective Motility] would also evolve and allow her to give far more granular and complex commands to the mirror images. But she would be limited to a maximum of fifteen simultaneous mirror images, sixteen counting her true body. She would keep all of her shifting capabilities and the mirror images would ultimately be just as vulnerable as ever. The ability to attack was interesting, but it had a large drawback: when her mirror images attacked with her [Warrior] class¡¯ skills, they would draw just as much mana as if she had attacked herself. 491 stat points, split evenly among the four magic stats with a bit outside of those. This was harder than she expected. [Reflections of a Heroine] matched her initial hopes for the class. It was what she expected when she started her class up. [Broken Mirror] potentially could save her life though. [Diffuse Reflectance] was a mana hog, but could amplify her power tremendously, if she could find a way to make it work without a Ranger wagon¡¯s full arcanite stores behind her. She approached the question from the angle of a dancer. What did each class offer her for her dance? [Broken Mirror] would let her use her mirror images to control the steps of the dance. The mirror images would be able to block or adjust her opponents, instead of merely distracting them. She would be able to control the flow of her own dance better than ever, even if her images would never be able to dance alongside her again. [Reflections of a Heroine] on the other hand¡­ didn¡¯t offer anything. Its unique tricks would do nothing to enhance her dance. ¡­Did her default option just end up her worst choice? ¡­Huh, that was kind of unexpected. [Diffuse Reflectance] gave her true backup dancers. She would become a one-woman dancing troupe. ¡­While her mana held out. The biggest question, she supposed, was obvious. ¡°Does the [Diffuse Reflectance] class skill that lets my images attack count as a Mirror class skill, or would it technically be a Void class skill?¡± She wondered aloud. ¡°Oh, I see, you¡¯re trying to see if [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] would offset the cost? Let¡¯s see¡­ The relevant portion of the skill states: Reduces mana costs for Mirror class skills by 50%. Further reduces mana costs by an additional 0.01% per level. This skill does not affect the mana regen costs of passive skills.¡± Her guide offered. ¡°I can see arguments¡­¡± Ranthia hedged. ¡°And which class is activating the skill?¡± Her guide prompted. ¡°[Diffuse Reflectance].¡± Ranthia answered. ¡°Indeed.¡± Her guide answered with a displeased expression. ¡°Mmn, I know you think I¡¯m being silly, but if I use [Void Edge] through it, it¡¯s using Void.¡± Ranthia countered. ¡°It¡¯s using a reflection of [Void Edge], not [Void Edge].¡± Her guide explained, rolling her eyes openly. ¡°Okay, fine. It probably applies. That helps the mana costs, but they¡¯ll still be limiting through the near future.¡± Her guide nodded in response and let Ranthia think through it. ¡°In essence, [Broken Mirror] makes me a better dancer and more likely to survive right now. [Diffuse Reflectance] is a class I will need to grow into to get full use out of.¡± Ranthia began to pace. ¡°Wait, I¡¯m being stupid.¡± She realized. She turned back to the short swords and picked up both [Broken Mirror] and [Diffuse Reflectance]. [Broken Mirror] limited her to 3 mirror images, and they were tougher. [Diffuse Reflectance] had a far more generous hard limit. It would never fill a battlefield like the class she already dismissed could have, but Ranthia rarely did that anyway. It was too hard to control more than a dozen or so mirror images as was, and they tended to get destroyed rapidly when she wasn¡¯t able to make much use of them. Also, she was focusing on the current version of [Diffuse Reflectance]. If she limited herself a bit and factored in her [Covenant], the mana requirements were more manageable. She would still use more mana than ever, but literally everyone that classed up dealt with that. She set down [Broken Mirror]. ¡°We always have gambled on the highest class pay-off, why should we stop now?¡± Her guide noted with a smirk. ¡°Yeah, sorry for taking so long to see the obvious best option.¡± Ranthia answered with a smile. ¡°Oh, I would have had something pithy and wise to say to make you feel better about your choice had you picked one of the others. ¡­Might have had more trouble if you decided to go for [Mirror in the Depths], but I¡¯m sure I could have come up with something.¡± Her guide sassed. Ranthia giggled and shook her head. ¡°I will see you again.¡± She promised. ¡°Just don¡¯t die first, that would ruin my plans.¡± Her guide answered with a completely straight face. Ranthia sheathed her newest short sword, then turned and made her exit. [Diffuse Reflectance]. Your mirror images have been used for many purposes. They have been distractions. They have been obstacles. They have allowed you to hide among them. They have danced at your side. They are your backup dancers, they are your safety net, they are your most reliable supporters, and now they are your comrades-in-arms. +5 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +3 Vitality, +120 Mana, +120 Mana Regeneration, +120 Magic Power, +120 Magic Control. [*ding!* Congratulations! You have upgraded your first class ¨C [Diffuse Reflectance ¨C Mirror]!] [*ding!* Congratulations! [Diffuse Reflectance] has leveled from 256 to level 280! Per level: +5 Free Stats, +3 Dexterity, +3 Vitality, +120 Mana, +120 Mana Regeneration, +120 Magic Power, +120 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Mana Regeneration and +1 Magic Power from your element.] [*ding!* [Mirror Spirit] has leveled from 256 to level 280!] [*ding!* [Scattered Reflections] has leveled from 256 to level 280!] [*ding!* Your skill [Reflective Motility] has evolved into [Pure Reflections]!] [Pure Reflections]: Control every aspect of your mirror images. Command them, down to the finest details. The greater the focus provided on commands, the more pure the response. [*ding!* [Pure Reflections] has leveled from 256 to level 280!] [*ding!* [Persistent Imagery] has leveled from 256 to level 280!] [*ding!* Your skill [Mirrored Moves] has evolved into [Ideal Reflectance]!] [Ideal Reflectance]: Your mirror images created by [Scattered Reflections] are no longer just images. Now they can attack, at a small mana cost per strike performed. In addition, you may use this skill to activate reflections of your true techniques from your other classes, at the same mana cost they would normally have. All attacks carried out by your mirror images will be at 1% of the power and strength that would have applied had you carried out the attack yourself. Slightly increased mana efficiency with level. ¡°Oh, this will be fun!¡± Ranthia shouted. Vert yelped in surprise; she had been so focused on her reading assignments that she failed to notice that the glowing lights¡ªthe System¡¯s idiotic quirk around class ups that served to illustrate when a powerful classer was most vulnerable¡ªaround Ranthia had receded. Ranthia could apologize later, for the time being she was focused on her new gains¡ªand her newly solved mana woes. [Name: Ranthia] [Species: Human] [Age: 23] [Mana: 60400/60400] [Mana Regen Rate: 29201] [Stats:] [Free Stats: 144] [Strength: 5894] [Dexterity: 8911] [Vitality: 8461] [Speed: 7989] [Mana: 6040] [Mana Regeneration: 7375] [Magic Power: 4796] [Magic Control: 4685] [Class 1: [Diffuse Reflectance ¨C Mirror (280)]] [Mirror Spirit: 280] [Scattered Reflections: 280] [Echoes Reflected: 163] [Pure Reflections: 280] [Persistent Imagery: 280] [Ideal Reflectance: 105] [Distorted Likeness: 90] [Reflections of Reality: 119] [Class 2: [She who Dances with Chaos ¨C Void (301)]] [Void Affinity: 294] [Rhythmic Grace: 301] [Void Edge: 301] [Flowing Momentum: 301] [Vision of the Void: 110] [Sustained Chaos: 60] [Echoes of Devastation: 301] [True Grace: 89] [Class 3: Locked] [General Skills:] [Divine-Touched Identify: 301] [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc: 90] [Ranger¡¯s Lore: 301] [Stealth: 73] [Combat Awareness: 297] [Fast Learner: 221] [Image Recall: 178] [Sexy: 211] Book 1 - Chapter 53 - Problems to be Solved Ranthia was left largely unsure of what to do with herself as the final days ahead of Ranger Team 6¡¯s departure progressed. Outside of team meetings Ranthia was helping Vert slowly improve her reading capabilities and¡ªgradually¡ªintroducing her disciple to writing. ¡­But there was only so much she could do to help; the duo had already found that sometimes the best thing Ranthia could do was to leave Vert to it. Except Ranthia had quickly found she absolutely couldn¡¯t be left alone with her thoughts. Lysia showed up again at the morning meetings a day later. ¡°Shelly gets even more of a boost now, and I can even gradually heal her now!¡± Lysia explained, almost vibrating in her seat. How she managed to speak through a grin that broad was one of life¡¯s greatest mysteries. ¡°Wow! So, is that why those scratches are gone?¡± Pyra enthused right along with Lysia. Once again they were gathered upstairs from Green¡¯s impressive shop. The Garden¡ªas most seemed to refer to it¡ªwas a shop that sold herbs to [Alchemists] and [Chefs] and the like, as well as entire young plants to anyone that wanted a bit more green in their life. The shop was surprisingly massive, and over half a dozen young women worked in it at any given time. Ranthia was, as usual, grazing on the food quietly while she watched the others talk. She knew as second-in-command she should be more proactive, but¡­ It was hard to find the energy to keep up with the young rookies that were nominally under her command. Green seemed to handle them so effortlessly. Besides, the grilled vegetables were kind of amazingly tasty. She¡¯d thought the prior morning¡¯s roasted ones were great, but the abundant seasonings on these were a delight on her tongue. It wasn¡¯t like she was the only one that stayed quiet. Art, Abillo, and Juvenae all seemed to prefer to keep quiet when someone wasn¡¯t directly engaging them in conversation. Not that Ranthia had spoken to Art since she made such a godsforsaken ass of herself when she had all-but-accused him of impropriety just for the misfortune of being born a man. What could she even say to begin to make up for that? ¡°Oh, right, before I forget!¡± Lysia had cut herself off mid-brag and pointed dramatically at Ranthia. ¡°Eyes! You promised!¡± Ranthia considered protesting¡ªshe certainly hadn¡¯t made a promise¡ªbut she shrugged and reached up and tugged her blindfold up, opening her eyes a moment later. She wasn¡¯t sure why she had gotten in the habit of closing them when she messed with her blindfold; it wasn¡¯t like the change in light that reached them bothered her. ¡°Wow! That is weird. Can I touch one?¡± Lysia asked. ¡°You just asked her if you can poke her eyeball.¡± Tertia quipped before Ranthia could figure out how to respond to that. ¡°Oh! Yeah, good point, that would be weird. Sorry!¡± Lysia apologized, complete with a quick Remus salute. Ranthia was oddly relieved that nobody seemed to be actively repulsed by her appearance. Lysia, Pyra, and¡ªmore oddly¡ªJuvenae looked interested. Abillo had glanced Ranthia¡¯s way before she shrugged and went back to staring out the open window. Green had a thoughtful expression and Tertia was completely unfazed. Art shot her a thumbs up after a few seconds, which was beyond Ranthia¡¯s ability to figure out. Still, their acceptance meant a lot. ¡°Okay, while we¡¯re indulging curiosity, how come she gets three names? I¡¯m just Pyra, daughter of Pyranus. But I¡¯m kind of jealous! I could have been Defirius Pyra Pyrenae! Or maybe¡ª¡± Pyra was plainly lost in her tangent when Juvenae gently bonked her on the nose. ¡°Leave my name out of it, get your own.¡± The older young woman grumbled. ¡°Actually, I was just Sinna, named after my father for most of my life. About eight years ago now, father decided to have me get my own citizenship and named me as a potential heir to the Hyrria business and family, at which point I was ¡®gifted¡¯ with his family name and renamed to Tertia since I was the third born. I kept my old name too, of course. My brothers are both screwups with no work ethic, so I signed on with the legion after I was done with my tutors, aiming to become a Ranger. I figure having some titles and merits behind me will make my future business dealings easier.¡± Tertia explained with a wry smile. ¡°What does the Hyrrina family do, anyway?¡± Ranthia asked before she managed to stop herself. She also failed to notice her mistake on the name, not that it seemed to bother Tertia. Ranthia was working hard to memorize the names of her teammates; she had even written them all down in secret during the last meeting. The study aid helped her tremendously, but she still had hiccups. ¡°Business-to-Business acquisitions. ¡­I¡¯ll try and simplify it: basically, when a shop or business needs something, they come to us. Say a restaurant comes to us with a need for something, like fresh milk, and needs it within a certain budget. Then we figure out which farmers have excess milk and figure out how to get it to them within their budget. We take care of everything, from acquisition to transit, using a network of contacts my family established over generations. Sure, you could go out and try to figure this out yourself, but it takes precious time and you¡¯re unlikely to find anything cheaper than what we can establish, even with our fees.¡± The woman replied with a proud smile. Well, Ranthia could only blame herself for asking. She fell quiet again while the others chattered¡ªthe cooling food was still a solid distraction. Eventually, the morning meeting came to an end and the girls filed out in ones and twos. Ranthia and Art had started collecting plates and cleaning up, but Art suddenly nodded and made his own exit. ¡°So, young Flower, what do you think of your new team?¡± Green prompted almost the moment he left. Ranthia froze briefly, before she resumed stacking plates. ¡°It¡¯s hard to get a feel for them until we start training together and see how the group functions on the field.¡± Ranthia answered after a few moments. The answer felt safe. Yet Green continued to look at her. ¡°I¡­ Pyra seems to struggle to focus, we¡¯ll have to watch her closely to see if that happens on the field too. Jul¡ªer, Juvenae seems more reliable, at least, though I have concerns about how proactive she might be. Abillo and Pyra are both strangely low in level even for fresh Academy graduates and it suggests a certain degree of inexperience we¡¯ll need to carefully watch. Tentatively I believe that Tertia seems to be roughly as competent as she believes herself to be, though I doubt she experienced direct combat against the shimagu given her level, despite her legion experience. I wish Lysie had another forty levels or so under her belt, but her skills suggest a high amount of potential as a frontline defender. That said, she¡¯s overly attached to her shield, and I know better than most that equipment inevitably must be parted with, no matter how good your Skills may be.¡± Ranthia elaborated. It was uncomfortable to give raw speculation off so little information, but she was¡ªsomehow¡ªsecond-in-command. The memory of her original knives¡ªtheir handles consigned to the Nostrum Sea after her Void effectively destroyed the blades¡ªdid not help her mood. ¡°If you had that much insight, why did you claim it was hard to get a feel for them?¡± Green prompted. It was hard to read her tone. ¡°I don¡¯t like sharing speculation without a solid foundation.¡± Ranthia replied honestly. The woman smiled. ¡°For your duties as my second, for now let us leave it at this. I trust your judgment and I hope you come to trust my own. If I have not given orders to our buds, please always feel free to do so. There are times I may, or even must, defer to you. Your primary objective should be to help keep the buds safe, so long as it does not come at a terrible cost.¡± The moss-haired woman instructed. Ranthia considered, then nodded and offered her team captain a salute. ¡°Oh, and if you ever believe I have made an unfortunate call, I do hope you will let me know.¡± Green added, as if it was an afterthought. Ranthia grimaced openly. The sentiment was appreciated, but it was¡­ surprisingly hard to hear the words. How had she even known¡­? ¡°Mm, I think I can finish the cleaning from here. You should probably check on the young lady you¡¯ve recommended to the Academy.¡± Green finally spoke into the awkward silence. Ranthia nodded and bade the woman farewell, before she turned to leave.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Oh, and sweet Flower?¡± Ranthia paused when Green called out to her and turned back. ¡°One thing I want you to think on after you leave. I never actually asked you what you thought of the combat potential of our team, yet that was how you answered.¡± Green added, before she waved Ranthia off. ¡­Ranthia could only cringe as she made her exit. The next morning, their assigned [Healer] was introduced. Hylla¡ªa name that existed in Ranthia¡¯s notes but hadn¡¯t stuck in her head. Though, to be fair, Ranthia was more distracted by the discovery that the young woman was bound by an asinine [Oath] that she insisted was becoming popular amongst [Healers]. Do no harm? And she was required to heal anyone she saw that was in need? The kid was a liability! Ranthia tuned out the ongoing conversations while she considered it. Yes, she was perfectly willing to admit she was slightly hypocritical¡ªshe was bound by her own [Covenant] and she had yet to even mention it to anyone. Though she really needed to tell Green at some point. But hers wasn¡¯t quite so¡­ stringent. Setting aside that she would have been forced to let the rebels run amok had they been less violent and prolific with their murder, the [Healer]¡¯s [Oath] was outright hostile to many of the duties of a Ranger. Yet everyone else seemed excited¡­ Ranthia¡¯s own training hadn¡¯t been going very well. [Pure Reflections] conceptually seemed like it should have been dramatically easier to use than [Reflective Motility]. Her images finally did exactly what she wanted under the guidance of the newly evolved skill. And yes, Ranthia had to admit, Hunting had been completely right: [Reflective Motility] had never been very lifelike; the difference between what she could do with it and what she could do with [Pure Reflections] were as different as night and day. ¡­Er, before she had gained [Vision of the Void], at least; she supposed that metaphor had lost some meaning. With a single image she could make it behave so realistically that it almost caught her off-guard. She was no longer controlling a puppet: she was willing a true reflection of herself to move and act. Life was remarkably easy to reflect with the newly evolved skill, and yet¡­ making them do exactly what she wanted was remarkably fiddly. With a single image she could manage¡ªthough [Ideal Reflectance] added yet another wrinkle as she struggled to incorporate serious attacks with her images. With a single image, she was fine. With two, things went poorly. While she practiced with the straw training dummy she had purchased, even getting her images to reliably strike it when she had two up was¡­ surprisingly complex. Then when she attempted it while she also attacked alongside them, she messed up so badly that one of her images stabbed her in the upper arm! Fortunately, 1% of her strength at its disposal¡ªshe hadn¡¯t been having them using [Void Edge], thankfully¡ªmeant that the image¡¯s blade only left an itchy scratch on her, but it still proved just how big a problem she had developed. This wasn¡¯t good enough¡ªit couldn¡¯t be. The problem plagued Ranthia as their departure date drew ever nearer. The more images she added, the worse it got: with four she struggled to even have them walk without tripping and breaking. She didn¡¯t seek outside counsel though, she was confident that she could figure the problem out. The only issue was her Mirror class was actively using mana now. Even without shifting¡ªwhich still worked the same as always¡ªher Mirror class was draining her mana for the first time while she trained. It limited how long she could train before she was forced to stop and allow her mana to regenerate. Which left her with unwanted time to think. She wished that she could find something to occupy her time. If she was a better person, she would have faced Hexara to apologize for running away and to wish her the best, but Ranthia just¡­ couldn¡¯t. The idea just brought her pain, a pain that was far different than the physical pain she had adapted to. Sunrise had briefly been another potential distraction. Initially Ranthia worried that the woman might mention Hexara¡ªthey were friends as well, after all¡ªbut she soon discovered a larger reason to avoid the seductive prostitute. ¡­It was more than a bit surprising, but Ranthia absolutely didn¡¯t want to be touched. The idea of a massage¡ªor more¡ªfrom Sunrise was almost outright repellant. Yes, she had noticed during the Convocation that she had really disliked Statia¡¯s hug, but she hadn¡¯t quite realized just how bad it had gotten. The realization, of course, made her regrettably aware of it. Even just brushing past Vert in a hallway was suddenly a minor agony. It was just further proof that something had broken severely inside of her. It would be fine, she reassured herself. Instead, Ranthia occupied her downtime while her mana regenerated by writing a series of scrolls that she planned to leave for Hunting. If he had left her a message, she completely failed to find it anywhere in the villa, but she could leave her own for him. ¡­Assuming that he ever actually saw it. She was all too aware that there had been at least four new Sentinels in the short time since she first became a Ranger, yet she could only hope that he was alive and would someday return. In the scrolls she detailed her life since the Academy. ¡­Well, the parts of her life she wanted to share with a mentor, at least. There was quite a bit that she left out, no matter how much unwanted downtime she had. Some small part of her believed that it helped her process what she had been through, but her nightmares were no less intense. And her skin still crawled when someone touched her. Late afternoon of the final day before her departure, Ranthia finally stumbled upon a partial solution. The problem stemmed from the fact that there was no intelligence behind her images; they did exactly what her instructions commanded with absolute disregard for circumstances or obstacles that even the stupidest beast would notice. So, the solution was to handle her orders to her images in waves when she had more than one image active. If she gave a mirror image orders that carried it through the next several moments, she had enough time to provide a different mirror image its own set of orders. It made them unable to react to changes and she¡¯d struggle to make her images evade all but the most intensely telegraphed attacks¡­ but it was a start. Doing that she was able to handle three images! The thought was heralded by a crash, and she amended that to almost being able to handle three images. She was still stuck with two, but that was obviously an improvement over just one. Maybe as she got more used to the timing, she¡¯d be able to increase the number she could handle. She had struggled with [Reflective Motility] at first too, after all. Boundless optimism was better than the alternative. Once her mana was exhausted, she returned to the villa and picked up her new personal chest (for some strange reason hammering nails into and through the old one without really knowing what she was doing had ruined it). Everything that she planned to bring¡ªincluding better than twice the coin she brought last time¡ªwas already packed, except for what she was about to pick up at her next stop. It had cost her a pile of rods, but her personal armor looked as good as new after the leatherworker had finished with its restorations. Ranthia had thanked him only to receive ¡°Rather have coin than words,¡± in response. Fair enough, another three rods was easily worth the quality the man created. He had even restored her vest¡ªnot that he could replace the lost arcanite, but at least she could wear it again. With her beloved leather armor added to her storage chest, she was ready to deliver it to Green¡¯s shop. How the woman planned to get all of their luggage from The Garden to the docks ahead of their departure time was beyond her, but Green had waved off the concern. The only response was that she would handle it. It wasn¡¯t like it was Green¡¯s first time. The woman had been a Ranger for ¡°more than a few¡± years and had led teams for quite some time, apparently. Ranthia had to assume she knew what she was talking about, even as she added yet another burden to the pile. The next morning, Ranthia locked Hunting¡¯s villa and handed the key to Vert. Her disciple had her belongings crammed into a backpack and was going to stay at a tavern until her time at the Academy started up. Since Ranthia had no better instructions on what to do with the key, she figured Vert could return it to Ocean for her. ¡°You¡¯ll do great. I know it. See you in two years, Vert.¡± Ranthia smiled at her disciple and¡ªno matter how little she wanted to¡ªshe linked her arm with Vert¡¯s proffered arm and shook it. Ranthia could tolerate that much for the younger woman. ¡°Stay safe out there. If yer not at my graduation, I¡¯ll be madder than an ornithocheirus in a pottery shop.¡± Vert vowed with a surprisingly serious glare. Ranthia giggled in spite of her best efforts. It had only been a few days since Vert relaxed enough to start using her strange, yet evocative comparisons around Ranthia. And, frankly, each was a delight. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to show up on time for the Academy!¡± Ranthia responded, not quite able to get the smile off her face or out of her voice. Vert saluted in response, just as they had practiced. Then, not one for prolonged goodbyes, the kid set off for the city gates. A moment later, Ranthia began her own sprint to the docks to meet the rest of Ranger Team 6. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine.¡± Ranthia assured herself as she jogged and completed a final check of her own equipment while on the move. Gods and goddesses, how embarrassing would it have been had she realized she left something in Hunting¡¯s villa and had to chase Vert down for the key? Thank Xaoc, that wasn¡¯t the case. Ranthia arrived at the docks, just in time to watch Art guide their wagon onto the ship that was going to take them to Western Remus to begin their route. And it was impossible to miss Ranger Team 6¡¯s wagon. Green had turned the roof of the wagon into a literal garden where numerous different flowers, herbs, and vines grew. Even more striking, the vines hung down the sides of the Ranger wagon¡ªthe effect seemed vaguely otherworldly to Ranthia, not that she could explain why. It was a stark contrast to the standard Ranger wagon. A short time later Juvenae and Pyra arrived, bringing their group up to full. ¡°And we are all aboard! Shrub, kindly inform the Captain that we¡¯re ready to get underway. Anyone who has issues with their sea legs can wait in the wagon with sweet Hylla, it does help in my experience. Please rest and take it easy until we arrive. On arrival, we¡¯ll begin our first duties of the round.¡± Green announced. And a short time later they were underway. Not that Ranthia even remotely enjoyed being on the water. Logically, she knew that the Nostrum Sea was largely safe¡ªso long as they avoided the depths at its heart¡ªand large monsters in it were all but unheard of. ¡­And yet her experience at The Ocean made it impossible to relax. Oh well, a little vigilance never hurt anyone. Book 1 - Chapter 54 - The Garden Roams The trip was uneventful, of course. The only interesting thing that Ranthia¡¯s unerring vigil spotted was a bird flying overhead while carrying multiple links of sausages in its beak. The greedy bird seemed to be struggling more than a little to maintain its flight while its stolen meal flopped about in the breeze. Beyond that, the waters were calm and the only boats they came within sight of were small fishing boats and one larger merchant vessel that never got even slightly near them. Pyra, Juvenae, and Hylla didn¡¯t emerge from the wagon until they were safely berthed¡ªand even then, Art and Ranthia had to carefully guide the horses and the wagon back onto solid ground before they emerged. Pyra had tried, she really, really had¡ªthe evidence of her efforts still painted down the side of the ship¡ªbut Green had ultimately gently convinced the girl to get in the wagon. Green had them gather up immediately. Pyra was still unsteady on her feet, but she leaned against Juvenae and tried to focus. ¡°Well done with the journey. We have one important errand to run as a group, which should give time for those of you that need it to recover. After that, we will hit the baths then grab a light late lunch before we set up for people to report problems. The dock master is an old friend, and he¡¯ll see that our wagon gets delivered. Hylla, you may accompany us or follow the wagon and set up your healing station nearby. Everyone else, follow me.¡± Green ordered with a smile. Ranthia wasn¡¯t quite sure what sort of ¡°important errand¡± required a full team of eight Rangers, but of all her guesses¡­ none of them involved a cosmetics shop. The Rangers all looked confused as they followed Green into the shop. It was a nice shop, Ranthia supposed. Lots of natural light. Chairs and freshly conjured mirrors scattered about. Colorful pottery sat on shelves and displays. It just absolutely wasn¡¯t a place for Rangers to do something of importance! ¡°Oh, Gle¡ªerm, Green, darling! You should have written me that you got your preferred route back¡ªI would have had all hands ready for this!¡± A remarkably short man popped up (barely) from behind the counter before anyone had quite found the courage to ask Green what they were doing. ¡°You know I don¡¯t get enough notice to get a messenger to you, old friend. But yes, these are my latest blooms. If you could¡­?¡± Green stepped to the side, all smiles. The man scampered around his counter and moved up to Ranthia¡ªthe perks of walking in the front of the line¡ªwith a smile on his unappealing face. Bulbous was an incredibly accurate word for the man¡¯s face, which was more than a little odd with his short and skinny frame. ¡°Right, let me get a good look at each of you and let me know what appearance Skills you have.¡± The man ordered. Ranthia dutifully reported [Sexy] and forced herself to hold still while the man studied her face with an unnerving amount of focus. He then rattled off several numbers and Ranthia watched his assistants scatter and get to work grabbing jars and other implements in response. To Ranthia¡¯s surprise the entire group had an appearance Skill. ¡­Which was kind of a relief, honestly; she wasn¡¯t as ridiculous as she sometimes felt with her determination to keep [Sexy]! Art had [Stylish], which was a bit surprising. The man didn¡¯t seem to flaunt anything like the name of the skill suggested, but perhaps its true purpose was more subtle? Lysia¡ªwho was almost exactly the same height as the man that was studying her¡ªproudly announced that she had [Cute]. Ranthia¡¯s old Skill worked on her, and Ranthia wasn¡¯t even slightly surprised to hear that she had it. It suited the petite defender¡ªmore than the gigantic shield she kept strapped to her back did, honestly. Abillo was reticent to share hers and Green had to stare at her for several moments before the quiet woman finally admitted that she had [Lovely]. That seemed fine, though ever since Abillo admitted it Ranthia couldn¡¯t help but to think the woman would look better with longer hair. It was strange how new expectations could twist and color how she perceived reality. Tertia was more than a little smug when she announced that she had [Very Sexy] and that it was capped. So¡­ there were evolved forms of [Sexy], good to know. Ranthia felt a completely reasonable amount of jealousy over Tertia having it. Juvenae was even less eager to share her own than Abillo was, she stubbornly clung to her silence until finally Pyra just rolled her eyes and announced that her friend had [Dark Beauty]. Juvenae outright pouted over being outed, but the man just rattled off new numbers for her. Pyra had [Hot] which just¡­ ow. Worse, the kid seemed to be completely oblivious to the pun! She said it with pride! Ranthia had to fight to keep from groaning out loud, and her respect for the System was damaged in a way it hadn¡¯t been in years. The short man plainly already knew as much, but Green still explained to the group that her own appearance skill was based on [Beautiful], but it had merged with the class skill that was responsible for her hair¡ªand inspired her name¡ª[The Green]. And in the short time that it took Green to share that information, the assistants had already finished getting everything together. Each of them was presented with a small chest filled with little clay jars, brushes, and other familiar implements. Ranthia tried to protest when Green handed the man a sack¡ªshe had plenty of money!¡ªbut Green just waved her off and announced that it was time to hit the baths. Ranthia was still glaring at Pyra and Lysia when they all got out of the baths¡ªwell, Art was on his side and fending for himself, of course¡ªand gathered in front of Green (seriously, splashing in the baths like children). Granted, part of it was that Ranthia was still feeling awkward due to how clumsily she had evaded offers to wash her back or requests to wash the backs of the other women. It was kind of¡­ intimate in a way she wasn¡¯t used to outside of her previous relationships, yes, but the bigger issue was that her aversion to being touched was still in full effect. ¡°Very well, Flower, you and Tertia can help one another with your cosmetics as you need. Everyone else, please gather your cosmetics and gather with me so we can get everyone looking their best. I believe that it¡¯s important to put our best face forward when dealing with the people in every town and city. This means baths and cosmetics. Just because we¡¯re Rangers doesn¡¯t mean we should be covered in filth and act uncivilized! As Rangers we should be above the realities of the world, to help people feel safer.¡± Green announced. Ranthia swallowed the groan that very, very nearly slipped out. She didn¡¯t necessarily disagree with Green¡ªand [Sexy] would appreciate the additional effort¡ªbut she wasn¡¯t looking forward to being stuck interacting with Tertia one-on-one. The slightly older woman came off as a bit stuck-up and snobby and Ranthia typically got along¡­ poorly with those that came from wealth. Still, she held her tongue and soon found herself seated on a bench next to Tertia, their little chests of cosmetics opened between them. ¡°Right, looks like these aren¡¯t too dissimilar to what I used to use back in the capital. Do you have much experience with putting on your own cosmetics?¡± Tertia asked once she reviewed the jars in both their chests. ¡°Sort of. My¡­ ex was a [Stylist], she tried to teach me a few times, but she usually lost patience with me and¡­¡± Nonononono, Xaoc damn it all¡ªshe was not going to start crying in front of a stuck-up junior! ¡°I¡­ she usually just took¡­ care of me herself¡­¡± Ranthia finished the thought, trying to rush through it. Yet the memories flooded her stupid, worthless mind even as the tears started to fall. Tertia just silently and patiently waited until Ranthia got a grip, then excused herself to wash her face again. Once Ranthia returned, Tertia just picked up like nothing had happened. ¡°Right, your shades are mostly a touch darker than mine, but we¡¯re going to largely be wearing them the same way. Why don¡¯t you watch me apply each layer and effect on myself, then you can try to mirror it, and I¡¯ll talk you through each step.¡± Tertia offered, without a hint of awkwardness or judgment. Ranthia was beyond grateful, especially when the tears came again partway through when Tertia, by happenstance, reminded her a bit too much of Hexara while correcting her brushwork direction. Ranthia just washed off what she had done so far and returned to a bare-faced Tertia who began again without comment. Ranthia had clearly misjudged the woman. On her previous round, Ranthia had dreaded manning the table to take the complaints of the locals more than anything. ¡­By day two, Ranthia had discovered something so much worse. Green ultimately assigned two of them to permanent Hylla duty, after the fifth incident. Lysia and Abillo hadn¡¯t even noticed the girl slipping off that time. They scattered to find her, and Ranthia ended up finding the kid deep in the worst parts of the slums in a filthy, stinking alley. Where a thug surrounded by some urchins was angrily tearing through Hylla¡¯s supplies demanding to know where she hid the rest of her money. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He moved to bash Hylla¡¯s head in with the hammer he carried, and Ranthia tore through him with her knives. ¡­Only for Hylla to immediately start trying to heal the bastard! He wasn¡¯t even bound and Ranthia was nearly forced to kill him to keep him from trying anything stupid! And so, Hylla duty became part of their city tasks. At least the kid was low level¡ªshe hadn¡¯t even reached the level 128 class up in her first class yet¡ªand was a dual-classed [Healer], which meant that Ranthia had the option of picking her up and carrying her¡ªkicking and screaming¡ªback to her chair and badly drawn free healing sign. In the end, nothing much came up during their first stop. The reports they got were either minor matters for the local guard that someone was upset weren¡¯t somehow an urgent priority, or just¡­ gossip. ¡°Seriously, why would anyone think they need to tell Rangers that they think their neighbors are hooking up?!¡± Ranthia grumbled as she helped to pack up the wagon. ¡°She really got under your skin, huh?¡± Tertia asked, bemused. ¡°Yes, ugh! Her rant just wouldn¡¯t stop! She wouldn¡¯t even let me get a word in edgewise! Like why?! Who cares!¡± Ranthia grumped. ¡°You would not survive in high society.¡± Tertia replied with a grin. Ranthia and Green took turns on scouting duty. Ranthia was faster than many speedsters thanks to her level, but Green could literally just disappear into woodlands. Even when Ranthia watched the woman do it, it was hard to tell she wasn¡¯t part of the underbrush. Her mossy hair just sprouted more plants and blended her in with the other local plant life, which was mildly intimidating. When she could, Ranthia continued to practice with [Pure Reflections]¡ªthough she never let herself dip below 80% of her mana just for practice. During downtime, she tried to guide a mirror image through complex tasks like sewing or running through thick underbrush without tripping (or breaking). At night before she prayed and slept, she made two mirror images spar. They were far too slow to make a good opponent for Ranthia herself¡ªeven before the bizarre mental exercise of trying to outwit yourself¡ªbut trying to make two mirror images put on a decent show was great practice. Especially since Green knew how to brew a bitter, disgusting tea that helped with the headache that the mental strain inevitably gave her. It was horrible to choke down, but it helped so much she was determined to get more from Green after the route was done. Boundless optimism was better than the alternative dread. The route had been smooth and quiet so far, which meant that none of them were surprised when they were flagged down by a passing small merchant caravan. The caravan¡¯s guards reported that they had been attacked by strange, bug-like monsters that they had never seen before. They¡¯d managed to drive the creatures off with their bows, but they were ¡°over level 100¡± (why was everyone so bad with their colors? Life on Pallos necessitated a careful eye for the differences between shades!), dangerous, and aggressive. At least the creatures apparently flew, which meant that the problem wasn¡¯t due to remnants of the formorian scourge. When the final act of that war happened several had gotten into Remus. By the time Ranthia was a proper Adventurer they were believed to have all been hunted down, yet rumors persisted and flared up often enough that everyone still feared their return. Green scouted, while Ranthia led the rest of the team¡ªand the wagon¡ªoff the road in the direction the guards indicated the monsters had gone in. Though Ranthia couldn¡¯t help but to recall one other bit of trivia¡­ They were fairly close to where she had fought the hellhounds so long ago. Why was this part of Remus so regularly experiencing monsters that weren¡¯t normally seen in Remus? She¡¯d never even heard of anything like these big flying bugs! It made no sense. Green reappeared right as they came into a clearing. She used Ranger hand signs to communicate the pertinent information as quickly as possible. The monsters were coming, five of them. When they arrived, she would break their formation and engage with the lead. Ranthia was to engage with the two on the left. Art would take the one nearest to Green¡¯s position on the right. The rest of the team would need to engage the final one. Affirmations were irrelevant, there just wasn¡¯t time. It was time for Ranger Team 6 to prove its mettle on the field of battle! The monsters emerged from the tree line. To Ranthia¡¯s eye, they resembled the flying insects that she sometimes saw around bodies of water. Crystalline wings beat rapidly through the air, propelling a long, skinny, segmented body. Of course, there were minor differences, namely that these monsters were each about two to three paces long and had a gigantic, curved stinger at the end of their long bodies. ¡°[Wyvernfly ¨C Storm], single class only! Each of them is somewhere between level 140 and level 147!¡± Ranthia called out. She was never going to hold back anything that might get someone killed. Not again. Green nodded, then moved. Ranthia never expected such speed or aggression out of someone with two [Mage] classes, but vines surged from the woman¡¯s mossy hair, lifted her, and then drove her right down the center of the swarm of wyvernflies. Right when she reached them, thicker thorny vines erupted from her hair and cracked at the lead monster as though they were whips, and Green drove it away from its fellows, nicely splitting their formation in the process¡ªjust as she had promised. Ranthia was moments behind her. In rapid succession she threw out three mirror images in an effort to try to box off her two targets. With monsters that were less than half her level, Ranthia felt confident enough to experiment, at least for the moment. She directed her mirror images¡ªnot that she could control three deftly as of yet¡ªto begin to make actual strikes at the monsters. Granted, a small part of her mind was mildly distracted with amusement at how monsters that were roughly equal to where most hard-working men and women reached at the twilight of their lives had become low level in her eyes. They were literally less than half her level, so she could risk playing around a bit to gain useful information. Of course, throughout this, she still kept her ears¡ªand other senses¡ªalert for any signs of anyone else in her team needing assistance. Protecting the lives and safety of her team¡ªor Hylla who was secure in the wagon¡ªmattered more than killing the monsters. Moments into the battle, it was clear that the wyvernflies were agile¡­ and stupid. None of the creatures seemed to grasp that they could just¡­ fly higher and leave. Instead, they buzzed and darted around in quick side-to-side motions while they lashed out with their stingers. Ranthia willingly (that was her story, and she was sticking to it) sacrificed one of her images to learn that the stingers delivered an electrical discharge if they landed a blow, but Ranthia was mostly confident that there was no sign of any venom or toxin. Soon enough, yet another mirror image broke and had to be replaced, and by that point Ranthia was getting frustrated with herself. This shouldn¡¯t be so hard for her! Her three mirror images were slow, wildly uncoordinated, and, more often than not, one just stood there doing precious little while she tried to rapidly cycle through giving orders to each one. By Xaoc, it felt like she had made no progress at all since she started practicing with the technique! It was frustrating, but she was starting to come to terms with the obvious answer. She might be able to improve some, but if she wanted to make decent use of her class, she needed a new Skill that could handle some of the workload. Especially since there was no way that she could channel, even if she was just handling two images. [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Submind]! Would you like to replace a skill?] ¡­Had the system seriously just been waiting for her to make up her mind? Ranthia let two of her images go still¡ªnot that they would last long¡ªand entered the dance personally. She had learned enough, and she didn¡¯t want to try to review the new Skill offering while she was occupied with the battle. A few heartbeats later she activated [Void Edge] in both knives and¡ªwith a final pirouette¡ªdrove a knife through the body of each of the two wyvernflies that she was fighting. [*ding!* You have slain a [Wyvernfly] (Storm, level 144)!] [*ding!* You have slain a [Wyvernfly] (Storm, level 142)!] Ranthia turned and focused fully on the others. The fresh Rangers really were doing well. Lysia¡¯s shield deflected and controlled the wyvernfly and she even had the sense to keep the base of her massive shield planted into the ground to limit the threat the lightning posed. When the monster tried to dodge around her, Pyra leaned around Lysia and unleashed orange-and-black flames to drive it back into position. Juvenae and Abillo kept pelting the bug on either side with pointed metal shells filled with Pyronox or sharp shards of ice. Tertia held her spear ready for a throw, but seemed content to watch her fellows whittle the threat town. Green seemed to be doing her best to test the bug she fought, rather than kill it outright. She was toying with it more openly than Ranthia was, baiting it into attacking tendrils of her plants while she kept it neatly boxed in. Art seemed to be struggling a little to land a decisive blow, so Ranthia put a mirror image near him and had it attack the creature¡¯s flank to help. The Wyvernfly overcorrected to evade the new threat, which allowed Art¡¯s sickle-bladed weapon to carve through one of its wings. After the creature crashed to the ground, it was over swiftly. [*ding!* Your group has slain a [Wyvernfly] (Storm, level 143)!] Shortly after, the new Rangers¡¯ bug fell from the sky when its strength gave out, after which it was rapidly incinerated by Pyra. [*ding!* Your group has slain a [Wyvernfly] (Storm, level 140)!] Unceremoniously, a moment after that kill notification, Green¡¯s vines grabbed her foe and ripped it in half with a wet crunch. [*ding!* Your group has slain a [Wyvernfly] (Storm, level 147)!] With that, Green just clapped her hands and announced ¡°Well, that¡¯s done.¡± None of them were injured, so they gathered up immediately. Art was trying to wipe baked bug guts off his weapon, but no one else even had equipment that needed maintenance after the fight. ¡°Flower, would you do an old Ranger a favor? If I write a message for you to deliver, would it be possible for you to run it back to Ranger Headquarters and see it delivered to the proper clerk?¡± Green asked while they walked back to the wagon. Ranthia considered the distances. ¡°Should take me a bit over three days, I think, if I stick with minimal rest. I assume we¡¯ll meet at the next town?¡± Ranthia decided. ¡°¡­Or perhaps the next.¡± Green replied with a hint of amusement. ¡°Oh, I am sorry to put such a bother on you Flower, but I really would appreciate it. Here, let me write the message quickly at least while we get back to the road proper.¡± Ranthia smiled and saluted. Then, while Green was busy preparing the scroll, she used the free moment to review her level gains and skill offering. [*ding!* [Ideal Reflectance] has leveled from 108 to level 110!] [Submind]: Any given woman has only so much mental focus to spare, so make things easier on yourself and get a Submind that can handle some tasks for you! Your Submind won¡¯t be sapient, but it will take simple orders and is great for simple or repetitive things that might distract you. Its available intelligence increases with level, but it can never surpass your own. Ranthia stepped to the side and¡ªnot entirely successfully¡ªfought down the nausea while she dropped [Stealth] for [Submind]. She hoped the new Skill would help, but if it wasn¡¯t what she needed, well, she could always try to get something better. The System was gloriously flexible that way. A short time later, her journey back to the capital began. Book 1 - Chapter 55 - Contact Three days, she had estimated, to Ariminum and back. Three. She¡¯d been so damned confident! Naturally, by the evening of the third day, she still wasn¡¯t even in sight of Ariminum¡¯s walls. For all of her practice with studying maps, she obviously still struggled with senses of scale¡ªand with the reality of just how much travel time roads added. Yes, she might have made better time by cutting through the wilderness¡ªmaybe, if she was lucky¡ªbut that had the risk of ending up off-course and getting lost, even before terrain or territory issues. ¡­Yeah, it was no wonder that Green had looked so amused at her estimation. Time aside¡ªgods and goddesses, being off by over twice her estimate was so embarrassing¡ªRanthia¡¯s journey back to the capital passed without event. There wasn¡¯t much time to practice with [Submind] since she refused to slow herself down any further, but that was fine. She¡¯d have more time once she got back. But after nearly five full days of travel (ha, and she thought it¡¯d take her three days to get to the capital and back to Ranger Team 6), she made it to Ariminum¡¯s gates. Loath to waste more time, Ranthia used the urgent Ranger entrance instead of waiting in line¡ªthough she still had to wait impatiently for the very slow [Healer] to come over and tap her arm¡ªthen she hit the main streets bound for Headquarters. She was sprinting through the speedster lane when someone abruptly stepped out right in front of her! Ranthia pivoted and side-stepped to bleed her momentum and opened her mouth to curse whatever idiot stumbled out into the fastest lane¡ª ¡ªonly to realize she was staring straight at Hexara. Ranthia froze, her mouth open. Heedless of the messenger that dodged around them, cursing. ¡°¡­I knew it was you. Please, can we talk, I just¡ª¡± Hexara began to speak; a voice that used to melt Ranthia¡¯s stress away instead filled her with dread. She couldn¡¯t. ¡°Sorry, on my round¡ªurgent message! Team¡¯s waiting!¡± Ranthia held up the scroll like a shield, dove around her ex, and fled at full speed. She wasn¡¯t fast enough to avoid the hurt look on Hexara¡¯s face. Ranthia had transparently refused to interact with Hexara¡ªas if a short conversation would have made her any later¡ªand¡­ yeah. Just what Ranthia wanted, more guilt to carry. ¡­She would still take an alternate route out of the city when the delivery was done, she decided. She might feel awful, but she was still a coward. Ranthia had been confident that she had memorized Green¡¯s convoluted string of directions to this clerk¡ªif not his name¡ªbut when she opened the door and found herself in a tiny room filled with brooms, mops, buckets, rags, and other cleaning implements she was a lot less certain. Still, Green had said to pass through the room and open the far door¡­ and there was another door there. All she could do was hope for the best while she stepped past the cleaning implements and tried the other door. She was more than a little surprised that it actually opened. Though nowhere near as surprised as she was when she stepped into a decent-sized room with three counters, each manned by a different man. Ranthia closed the door and, with an effort to recalibrate herself, approached the counter at her left. ¡°Ranger¡­¡± the man paused and his eyes unfocused for a moment. ¡°Ranthia, Ranger Team 6. What can I do for you, ma¡¯am?¡± The man was utterly forgettable and would be all too easy to overlook in a crowd, but Ranthia offered Green¡¯s scroll to him and tried not to fret about how weird all of this was. ¡°Message from Green, she requested I deliver it to you.¡± Ranthia confidently replied, no matter how uncertain she was that any of this was correct. The man accepted the scroll, checked its seal, then nodded. ¡°I acknowledge receipt, is there anything else, ma¡¯am?¡± The man asked in the same¡­ indistinct tone of voice. ¡°No?¡± Ranthia replied uncertainly. The man offered her a salute from behind the counter and watched her until she finally nodded to him, then turned and¡ªstiffly¡ªleft the room. She had so many questions, but the Rangers did weird stuff sometimes. Maybe this was just something they did to mess with Rangers that got forced to run messages? Sure, that made sense. As much sense as any of it did, at least. Ranthia¡¯s return journey also went smoothly, though she did stop at one point to help a farmer replace the wheel of his uncovered wagon. ¡­Why anyone would travel Pallos¡¯ roads without a sheltered wagon was beyond her; ornithocheirus alone made it idiotic to take such a risk. She had learned a lot since her own pilgrimage from Perinthus, and there was no way she¡¯d make the same sort of mistake again. Not that the old farmer seemed to care, he just laughed and told her that he was too sour for anything to eat. She didn¡¯t argue, she just helped him get on his way again and resumed her run. Ranger Team 6 hadn¡¯t been at the town Ranthia had hoped to meet them at, of course, but thankfully they were still at the next town. ¡­For another day or so. Ranthia wasn¡¯t entirely confident on which road they followed next, so it was a very good thing she caught up. ¡°Thank you, bright Flower, and welcome back. Here¡¯s some coin for a bath and a meal, tell sweet Tertia that I¡¯ll relieve her at the desk momentarily and that she may join you.¡± Green greeted her with a smile, before tossing a pouch to Ranthia. After a hot bath and a fresh application of cosmetics, Ranthia felt more like herself. Their round was still in its earliest stages, but she was already getting thoroughly spoiled by how Green ran things. The woman was clearly supplementing their team coin out of her own wealth, but it was wonderful to have private rooms, cosmetics, and baths as part of the Ranger experience. ¡°So, I take it I didn¡¯t miss anything?¡± Ranthia asked Tertia while the two ate bowls of hearty, spicy stew at the tavern they were staying in. ¡°Actually, in the last town, we got stuck dealing with an interesting mystery. Someone was stealing from the governor¡¯s tax collector.¡± Tertia replied with a smirk. ¡°¡­Wait, really? How did that get resolved so quickly?¡± Ranthia blinked. ¡°Turned out it was the guy¡¯s own kid. Something smelled funny since it was always exactly one coin short. So, Green had him do a fake tax collection, then we waited. Sure enough, the kid squeezed right through an airflow gap in the wall, took one coin from the collection box, and left. Turned out one of the kid¡¯s friends told him that coins were getting bigger every year, so he decided to collect a coin a year to study the effect.¡± Tertia replied with obvious amusement. ¡°Well, at least it was easy to resolve. What did you guys do about the kid?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Clapped him in irons and sent him to the governor for sentencing.¡± Tertia answered with a cold expression. ¡°What?!¡± Ranthia gasped in horror¡ªonly for her newfound friend to immediately start laughing. ¡°Oh, that was beautiful, thank you! You are so easy, girl! I just have to slip back into my childhood training and don a mask and I swear I could convince you that the emperor¡¯s prone to skipping naked through fields of flowers!¡± Tertia somehow managed to speak clearly while laughing. ¡°See, with a vile personality like that, I¡¯m not surprised that you¡¯re worried about finding a decent match when you get married.¡± Ranthia grumbled while she fought to keep the grin off her face. ¡°Hey, I told you that in confidence!¡± Tertia gasped in exaggerated outrage. The two broke down giggling after another moment. The round continued. Ranthia stole every opportunity that she could to train with her mirror images¡ªand to her utter delight, there were a few times when her teammates mistook one of her mirror images for the real her! ¡­Unfortunately, she enjoyed it a little too obviously, so everyone started using [Identify] to screen before they interacted with ¡®her¡¯. She had been somewhat doubtful, but [Submind] really had proven its worth already. Even in its relatively early levels, she found that the Skill could basically run one mirror image perfectly with barely any effort required from her. She looked forward to the day it would be able to take over a second, but already she was practicing with four mirror images active. In a real battle she kept herself limited to three at most¡ªand more often stuck with just two to better manage her mana expenditures and spare enough focus that she could channel while doing it. Real battles were all too common. On the road they dealt with aggressive wildlife that attacked their wagon or one of the lower-level women¡ªHylla was especially delicious-looking, it seemed. In towns, more than once, they had to form up to fight predators or territorial dinosaurs that had gotten too close. There was the token small bandit group¡ªjust dumb kids that got too greedy (fortunately, they were easily restrained and handed off to the guards in the next town). Then there was the incident with the crazy naked woman (being covered in colorful dye did not count as clothes) that leapt out of a collapsing ruin of a house, just a bit beyond the walls of the nearby town, and tried to eat Lysia¡¯s face. Weirdly, according to the locals that was just a thing that the woman did sometimes. They seemed to shrug it off, somehow! Not that Ranthia felt guilty for using lethal force to save her junior. And currently they were in a mid-sized city dealing with the fact that Hylla had been kidnapped. The criminal gang in the city had been too small and too harmless to be on the Rangers¡¯ radar, but they seemed to have taken that as a personal challenge. They had¡ªsomehow¡ªlured the [Healer] out overnight while the team was asleep, but eyewitnesses had seen known members of the gang take her after she healed someone that was injured. Thank Xaoc, the guards were actually competent. They gave Green a list of known hideouts for the gang and, while most sane people were eating breakfast, the team gathered to plan their rescue. Between [Vision of the Void] and however Green¡¯s [Predatory Plants] worked, they were certain that there were sixteen thugs¡ªthe entire gang (again, they were tiny and harmless)¡ªinside the abandoned coppersmithy. Hylla was probably in the smithy¡¯s underground storage, considering there were six idiots milling around the door to it. Stolen story; please report. Green¡¯s plan was simple and effective. First, Lysia and Abillo were to go in through the front entrance. Heavy Mist, lots of noise. A moment later, Ranthia and Pyra would enter from the back and head straight for Hylla. Tertia, Juvenae, and Art would hit the smithy through the side door. And Green herself would come from above. The amount of force they used was left at their individual discretion. The tranquility of the morning was shattered by the sound of a door being crushed and angry shouts. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Ranthia whispered to Pyra, before she erased the bar¡ªand part of the door¡ªwith a sweep of [Void Edge]. The two charged into the back room. Two enemies were inside, though they were clearly caught off-guard. Ranthia rushed them, even as one of Pyra¡¯s [Flare Arrow]s passed by her head. The orange Inferno arrow struck one of the thugs in the chest, then erupted into a conflagration of Pyronox¡ªPyra¡¯s [Imbue] and [Coexisting Blaze] Skills made her remarkably effective for a fire-based [Mage]. Inferno¡¯s solid flames gave her serious range, and Pyronox¡¯s raw stopping power made them hurt. [*ding!* Your group has slain a [Daytime Laborer] (Wood, level 78), [Nighttime Burglar] (Dark, level 103)!] The other thug screamed his surrender as his counterpart went down in a flaming heap. Ranthia simply reversed her grip on her knife and slammed its base into the man¡¯s jaw as she rushed past him. There was no kill notification, so it was fine¡ªno matter how loud the crunch had been. Abillo¡¯s cold voice echoed through the mostly-empty smithy, shortly before another trio of kill notifications came. But Ranthia had no headspace to focus on that, she was already bearing down on six visibly shaken idiots that were barring her way to save their problematic [Healer]. One by one, she sent three mirror images out¡ªand two of them lunged aggressively at the idiots. She was already channeling too, just in case. The dance came to her and her rush grew into something much more as she closed in. The first man was armed with a knife not entirely unlike the cheap piece of junk in her own hand. She sliced through the back of his hand and replaced the consumed knife with his. The second was wielding a staff¡ªan impractical weapon when it came to life and death, at least add a spearhead. He was busy fending off the [Submind]-controlled image, so she ignored him. It would have been all too easy to cut him down as she passed him, but she needed to make sure Hylla was secure before she got bogged down. There was too high a risk that there were more gang members that were in there with her. She might be killed if they took too long. The third was unarmed and came at her with his bare fists. [Sustained Chaos] let her throw an empowered knife into his face. [*ding!* You have slain a [Cargo Wrangler] (Wood, level 85), [Brawl Fanatic] (Water, level 89)!] The fourth and fifth were both rushing for Pyra¡ªso much the worse for them; she was even deadlier at close range. The sixth wielded a spear. He managed to break the image he fought shortly before she reached him¡ªhe was surprisingly good. Not that it helped him when she put another image behind him and shifted to it while he turned to face her true body. The man never even noticed the knives that she buried in the sides of his skull. [*ding!* You have slain a [Legion Spearman] (Earth, level 171), [Little Crime Boss] (Dark, level 140)!] Ranthia was more than a little relieved when she kicked down the door and saw Hylla tied to a chair, alone. Her tunic was even intact, which proved the scum had some level of morality. Not that it helped them when Green descended on those that still fought. Honestly, baths and beds aside, the incident cemented it for Ranthia: the time they spent between towns was clearly preferable to the time spent in town. The biggest reason, of course, was that there were no Hylla problems! (¡­Usually.) But the time spent in the wilderness was also the only time Ranthia could work on her mirror images freely; for some bizarre reason townsfolk got weirded out by groups of the same [Sexy] woman. Their loss! ¡­Though Ranthia supposed that she could practice with [Distorted Likeness]¡ªwhich was really starting to get neglected¡ªwhile she was in town and see what she could get away with. The nine of them¡ªHylla included; no matter how many incidents there had been, she wasn¡¯t exactly a bad person¡ªhad bonded closely. Spring was deep in bloom and Ranthia¡¯s birthday was only weeks away, which meant that they were nearly a year into their journey across Remus. They were a short jaunt away from their next city, but they weren¡¯t in any hurry¡ªthey were almost ahead of schedule if anything. Ranthia¡¯s opinions on her companions had solidified. She liked each of them well enough, no matter how strange a team they made. Green was motherly, if one used the word as it was meant to be used¡ªcontrary to Ranthia¡¯s own experiences. Her weirdest quirk was that she refused to eat anything that contained animals, though she was just fine with the rest of their meat-eating habits. Which was a good thing, Pyra and Lysia would have probably rebelled if they were denied their meat¡ªgetting vegetables in those two could be trying. Green¡¯s main hobby was tending to her own little traveling garden, though she was always there to offer advice on any topic. She was so open and helpful that Ranthia had almost convinced herself to speak to the woman about her own heartbreak¡ªand aversion to touch¡ªthat refused to heal no matter how much time passed. ¡­But only almost. Art was friendly and well-meaning to a fault. His hobby turned out to be singing, and the women tried to coax him into song every chance they got. The man was by far the twitchiest of them when he was surprised though¡ªa common enough fate that most experienced Rangers fell prey to sooner or later. Lysia never held still¡­ unfortunately, not even when she was asleep. She was a bit of a nightmare when they had to shelter from the rain. The girl was mostly just insatiably curious and talkative. Lysia had decided that Ranthia¡¯s eyes were ¡®the coolest,¡¯ which was weirdly flattering. Beyond just being a social butterfly, she didn¡¯t seem to have any personal hobbies¡ªthough she was happy to talk about anyone else¡¯s interests. Abillo was the quietest member of the group. She liked the rain and tended to walk alongside the wagon while it rained so she could relish it. Recently, she had confessed that a childhood injury had left her unable to speak for many years¡ªthough she tellingly refused to elaborate on the injury with a haunted look on her face¡ªand during that time she grew to be uncomfortable with social interactions. She had become a Ranger to escape the pressures she had to get married, much like Art. Despite Ranthia¡¯s initial misgivings about Tertia, she really had grown into a cherished close friend. Superficially, yes, Tertia had a somewhat snobby attitude from her wealthy upbringing, but beneath it she had a great sense of humor and a deep appreciation for the arts. Ranthia¡¯s own dance practices¡ªor performances for the group¡ªdrew the woman¡¯s eyes and held her in rapt attention every time. Tertia mostly just wanted to focus on the here and now; the future was a scary prospect for her since she knew soon enough that she¡¯d have to seriously work to try to take over her family business¡­ and find a suitable match for her own betrothal. Juvenae was a bit macabre and pessimistic, but the woman was also a big sister/best friend to Pyra. ¡­Though her hobby was, basically, men. Every time they got to town and she was free of obligations, she would restock her supply of silphium and go out at night, only to return quite a while later reeking of sex. In Ranthia¡¯s eye though, Pyra was the most immature member of the group. The kid¡¯s mind seemed to change as often as a flame flickered in the wind. She tore through hobbies one after another and kept two general skill slots that she just endlessly rotated through her interests of the moment. Her genuine affection for Juvenae was about the only constant she had. ¡­Well, that and her love for fire. She would even throw a tantrum if Ranthia made a cooking fire herself instead of asking Pyra to do it. Still, it wasn¡¯t hard to appreciate the enthusiasm and energy she brought to the team. Especially since she was a legitimate help when Ranthia cooked for the team¡ªGreen, on the other hand, refused help when she cooked and would outright chase Pyra away with her plants. And yes, Hylla¡ªat least when she wasn¡¯t trying to do crap like dive past them to heal a rogue classer they had subdued before they tied him up¡ªwas alright too! Ranthia could admit that much. The young woman liked to come up with random poems that described the world as she saw it, though Ranthia suspected that she was¡­ flexible with the structures of her poems, to say the least. Not that Ranthia was an expert, but some of those rhymes were awfully forced and some lines could be significantly longer than any other. So bonded, they were in the final approach to the city. ¡°It¡¯s Port Salona, not Portona.¡± Tertia had quickly learned about Ranthia¡¯s inability to remember names and had taken it upon herself to help her friend straighten that problem out. Ranthia was unsure that it helped, but at least it didn¡¯t make things worse. ¡°Alright my blooms, gather ¡®round!¡± Green called as she jogged back to the wagon. The Rangers gathered, as requested, once they brought the wagon to a halt. ¡°I know we were all looking forward to getting into town, but I want to check in on a local farmer who was notorious for causing issues with things like his ¡®Eirfmoo¡¯.¡± She announced, amused. ¡°What on Pallos is an Eirfmoo?¡± Juvenae asked. ¡°Ugh, no, not him. I had to deal with this guy before, two rotations back.¡± Art groaned. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Shrub. The governor ordered him to destroy the rest of his herd a while back. Still, now he¡¯s raising chickens and I want to make sure he¡¯s not recreating winged problems for everyone. Ranthia and Pyra, please take sweet Hylla and get into town. Take her wherever she urgently needs to go so that we can all relax tonight, at least once the rest of us are finished.¡± Green laid out her plans. Orders given, Green drove the wagon while Art, Lysia, Abillo, Tertia, and Juvenae piled into the back and prepared their gear just in case (seriously, how bad could chickens be?). Ranthia and Pyra stood in salute while the rest of their team pulled away, then they walked the short distance to town with Hylla on their heels. There was a long queue to get into the city, as it turned out. Port Salona¡ªlike almost all decently sized cities¡ªrequired people to be screened by a [Healer] before they entered. Unfortunately, the healer on duty was very low level and could only clear one person every so often. It had created a bit of a backlog, especially since a caravan had arrived ahead of them. Pyra was first in line, followed by Hylla, with Ranthia in the rear. They waited, patiently. Then they waited, less patiently. They weren¡¯t the only ones; a man a few places in front of them positively writhed in obvious frustration. He was also notable due to his odd clothing; Ranthia rarely saw pants in Remus outside of rare protective outfits. Which was why he stood out more than any of the other frustrated [Farmers], [Merchants], or [Laborers]. Hylla finally clucked her tongue in impatience and leaned her head out of line and called to the guards. ¡°Hi, I¡¯m a level 130 Light and Water [Healer]. I¡¯d be happy to help screen the line to get everyone through faster! I¡¯m sure my Ranger te¡ª¡± Crack! Ranthia¡¯s guard was down, but it happened faster than she could hope to react. The fidgeting man had just suddenly thrust his hand out and a rock spike pierced straight into Hylla¡¯s head with a horrendous noise. The crowd screamed and began to scatter. The man began to turn on the guards and the [Healer] there. Ranthia was on him before he could finish pivoting his arm. Immediately she drove a [Void Edge]-infused knife through the top of his head, erasing a deep swath of his brain. [*ding!* You have slain a [Chosen Spy] (Earth, level 128), [Bringer of Despair] (Gravity, level 128)!] She might have been too slow to save Hylla, but she¡ª Wait, something was wrong. The body hadn¡¯t dropped. Instead, it unleashed a maelstrom of purple mist. Ranthia lunged backwards as fast as she could, roughly pulling Pyra clear as well. The young Ranger had gone catatonic, and Pyra¡¯s focus remained locked on Hylla¡¯s glassy eyes and the blood that poured from her forehead. There was no saving her¡­ Ranthia just roughly shoved Pyra further back and watched the people that had been caught in the mist. They gasped and clawed at their throats as they stumbled around, seeking escape. Good, it wasn¡¯t instantly fatal. Ranthia started to channel as she drew new knives. Once it was ready, she threw a mirror image in front of what should have been a dead body. It was unlikely in the extreme that the man was a Mirage [Mage] that had blind guessed how her System notifications were formatted and, simultaneously, faked his own injury. Yet, in the heat of the moment she had no idea how a dead body was using some sort of an attack Skill, but she figured if she erased enough of the man, the Skill should stop. Those thoughts carried her through the precious moments it took for [Reflections of Reality] to shift her into the mirror image. Even while she held her breath, she felt whatever the purple mist was as it crept into and through her skin, burning the whole way. It didn¡¯t matter. She could hold out, and she was already channeling for her return trip. But in the moment, Ranthia focused on her dance as she maneuvered around the still-standing dead body and lashed out with strike after strike enhanced with [Void Edge], driven by all of her applicable Skills. Finally, just before she was forced to retreat to her true body by her need for air and how badly the mist was burning through her current body, her blade erased the back of the man¡¯s neck, and a second kill notification came. [*ding!* You have slain a [Whisper in his Ear] (Ooze, level 487), [Dreadful Undercover Killer] (Miasma, level 419)!] Ranthia shifted back to her true body and coughed out of instinct, despite the fact that her true body hadn¡¯t been damaged by the Miasma. The cloud dissipated immediately with the conjurer dead. As soon as she got over the coughing fit, Ranthia grabbed Pyra and roughly shook her out of her stupor. ¡°Pyra! Flare fountain, now! The shimagu are here!¡± Ranthia ordered. It seemed the descriptions weren¡¯t quite as impossible as she¡¯d thought. Book 1 - Chapter 56 - In the Defense of Others The shimagu. Even Ranthia¡¯s International Studies course in the Ranger Academy had largely glossed over them, beyond parroting the same propaganda-sounding bullshit that criers called out across Ariminum every so often. An inhuman species of bodyjackers that kidnapped humans (and ogres, per International Studies) and used their bodies like puppets. Nothing in her chaotic knowledge backed the claims up, so she had always ignored them. The most likely explanation was that it was some anti-Imperial rebel force that had¡ªsomehow¡ªformed beyond Remus¡¯ borders. After all, the simplest explanation was usually the right one, and the fact that humans were involved in fighting against Remus made it very easy to explain. Granted, the reason(s) why the dwarves or the elves were involved was a question Ranthia lacked the information to answer, but the propaganda was obvious bullshit. Until, quite suddenly, it wasn¡¯t. Which was why Ranthia was putting a mirror image next to every civilian that was still on their feet, blades held ready. She had been fooled once, but if anyone else was a shimagu, she¡¯d do everything she could to make sure they died¡ªtwice¡ªbefore they could harm anyone. The guards were descending on the twice-over-corpse once Ranthia confirmed the kill was made. Runners were also sent for [Healers] to help those that were affected by the cloud of Miasma, though it was too late for several. Pyra¡¯s emergency signal wasn¡¯t technically a skill, just [Inferno Conjuration] used to create an effect not unlike a fountain¡ªthus her nickname for it, the flare fountain. She was desperately burning through her mana, wide-eyed and clearly shellshocked; though the others were bound to have noticed by then. Ranthia, on the other hand, was pacing in her true body as she watched the survivors closely and tried to work through her new revelation. The shimagu were real. The body theft thing was seemingly true. If she had known¡­ Well, that was the kicker; she wasn¡¯t sure it changed a damned thing. The man had been oddly dressed and was fidgety in Pallos¡¯ slowest line¡ªhardly damning evidence. [Divine-Touched Identify] hadn¡¯t seen anything unusual either; he was a dual-classed [Mage], yes, but he was only level 128. Plus, he was coming in with a caravan, so Ranthia had assumed he was a hired guard¡ªmaybe even an Adventurer. Yet Hylla¡¯s dead body sure as hell made it feel like she had done something horribly wrong. And none of her current vigilance changed a damn thing about it. By the time the others arrived with the Ranger wagon, Ranthia still had images next to every reasonably intact civilian that was present, while her true body stayed around the [Healers] that fought to save the two that got dosed with Miasma but hadn¡¯t died yet. Three others, plus Hylla, were dead. The city had conjured two decently leveled [Healers] for the crisis, at least. Which was why Ranthia was ready to cut down anyone that even vaguely gestured toward the [Healers]. Not even their patients were immune to her scrutiny. Wisely, even the most self-important people under her supervision held their tongues. She was furious, she was a Ranger, and she was higher level than anyone else present. Green erupted from the wagon in a burst of speed and knelt next to Hylla¡¯s body. ¡°Report.¡± She commanded in a tone that was even colder than the one she had used when Hylla was kidnapped. ¡°We were in line and everything was perfectly normal. Level 128 dual-classed [Mage], Earth and Gravity, was ahead of us, he was oddly dressed but wasn¡¯t suspicious enough to warrant further attention. At least until he suddenly put a rock through Hylla¡¯s skull. ¡°I killed him immediately, received the kill notification as expected. Yet his body continued to attack, using an element he didn¡¯t possess¡ªMiasma. I pressed the attack, finally got a second kill notification¡ªlevel 487 Ooze, level 419 Miasma. Based on everything, I can confidently say it was a shimagu. ¡°After that I ordered Pyra to use her signal, since I didn¡¯t have my bow or quiver on hand. I¡¯ve also been watching the others that may have arrived with the shimagu spy, just in case.¡± Ranthia replied, not moving from her current vigil. Green nodded and fell silent for a moment, even as the other members of Ranger Team 6 gathered. ¡°Ranger Team 6, take over guarding the civilians until they can be cleared. Ranthia, supply and draw from the arcanite, then I need you to scout out into the wilderness and along the roads. Make as thorough of a search as you can. There¡¯s a chance the shimagu might have had a spotter further out, watching what happened. You¡¯re fast and can cover a wider area than I can solo. Go!¡± Ranthia nodded and dropped her mirror images, before she ran for the wagon. She restocked her knives, then stuck her leg against her draw stone for the arcanite and pulled from it while she prepped her bow and quiver. The entire process took only so many moments, yet every moment was time that a possible second shimagu agent could use to escape. Still, proper preparation was important. As soon as Ranthia was done, she took off at top speed. Hunting had taught her the basics of running a search pattern, so she put it to good use. She was able to run for a time, then stop and see if she could find any sound or sign of others having passed through recently. Then she moved to the next point. When there was sufficient visibility, she sent out mirror images and used them to widen her search. She continued, slowly expanding her search deeper into the wilderness and further afield. In the end, well after night had fallen, Ranthia made her way back to Port Salona with nothing to show for her efforts. The funeral pyre for Hylla and the four civilians that died¡ªthe healers had been unable to save one of the men, a somber guard still stationed near the embers informed her¡ªhad already burnt down to smouldering remnants in the time Ranthia was gone. She stopped and prayed to Xaoc on the behalf of Hylla and the others that fell¡ªsomething she should have done while she was searching. Though now her mana was far more expendable, and she begged Xaoc to take everything He needed and give Hylla the best fate Samsara had to offer her. She had been far too pure and far too young to have died like this¡­ Once Ranthia was finally done with her prayers, she submitted to a very thorough [Healer] screening before she made her way into town. The guards shut the gates after her. The men and women of the guard looked desperately weary, yet they had waited for her. Not that she had any words for them, but they seemed to appreciate the salute that she offered them. Ranthia actually had no idea which tavern her team was staying in, but the first one she tried¡ªthe one near the guard station¡ªturned out to be correct. All seven of her team were gathered around a table with cold food and neglected drinks. ¡°Find anything?¡± Green asked the instant Ranthia entered. ¡°Nothing except wildlife. A few scattered small dinosaurs.¡± Ranthia replied, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Gods and goddesses, she wished she¡¯d found another shimagu. It felt like yet another failure, since finding nothing either meant there was nothing to find or that Ranthia hadn¡¯t been good enough¡ªfor the second time¡ªand they got away. Green beckoned her over. Ranthia approached, but¡­ it was hard to miss that Pyra still looked like she was deep in a spiral of terrible thoughts. Worse, Ranthia had to wince when she noticed part of the younger woman¡¯s ear was missing¡ªshe must have been clipped by the attack that killed Hylla. Ranthia swallowed her weird anti-touch feelings and paused to put her hands on the young woman¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything wrong. This was on me, I had overwatch.¡± Ranthia assured her. Ranthia stiffened when Pyra suddenly turned around and pulled her into a tight hug, the younger woman¡¯s face buried against her stomach. But she forced herself to relax and returned the hug as best she could while standing. She could accept this, Pyra needed it. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Nobody will ever blame you.¡± Ranthia whispered. Eventually, Pyra let go and slumped against Juvenae. The moody woman ran her fingers affectionately, soothingly, through Pyra¡¯s hair. Ranthia covertly wiped off the tears and snot that Pyra had left on the laminar vest of her armor, then finally sank wearily into the seat that was left for her. Almost immediately, a woman from the tavern brought her a large bowl of rabbit stew and a generous chunk of fresh bread. She really appreciated the thought behind it, but it took an effort to make herself idly eat some of the food. She sure didn¡¯t feel like she had much of an appetite. ¡°Flower, I hate to ask, but you¡¯re certain it was a shimagu?¡± Green asked. It was hard to miss that her usual affectations were back, now that things had calmed down. Ranthia closed her eyes beneath her blindfold and sighed. It was a fair question, she reminded herself. ¡°The man attacked Hylla out of nowhere. I didn¡¯t ask questions; I killed him immediately. Knife through the top of his head. Got the kill notification. His classes were both at 128, [Chosen Spy ¨C Earth] and [Bringer of Despair ¨C Gravity]. After he died, his body erupted in a cloud of Miasma. Used a mirror image to fight my way into the cloud after I got Pyra clear. Kept cutting him with Void over and over. Finally, a blow to the back of his neck got a second kill notification. [Whisper in his Ear ¨C Ooze], level 487 and [Dreadful Undercover Killer ¨C Miasma], level 419.¡± She reported. She reopened her eyes and watched Art and the other women blanch, though Green looked pensive. For a time they were all silent as Ranthia picked at her food and tried to eat. It was¡­ probably good? It felt so hard to appreciate the food, in light of her failures. Hylla was gone. Pyra was hurt and was obviously refusing to be healed. And all Ranthia had accomplished was wasting half the day for no reason. They were quiet for a moment with their own thoughts before Green looked to Ranthia. ¡°The guards froze the body of the man with the help of Ice [Mages]. I wasn¡¯t even aware of this, but there was a protocol in place. No one else seemed to be infected, and yes [Healers] can detect and destroy the shimagu with ease. They cleared everyone else that was there¡ªincluding us and the guards. We stood vigil for sweet Hylla, then came here.¡± The older woman explained. Her years seemed to weigh on her far more ponderously than usual. Ranthia nodded and eyed her stew. Normally she would be elated to have it, but currently¡­ ¡°Eat, everyone. That¡¯s an order.¡± Green commanded. Ranthia forced herself to eat, alongside everyone else. Sleep came slowly for Ranthia that night, but carrying guilt was a familiar burden for her. In time, she knew that she would be able to accept what happened. It was an all-too-familiar process by that point in her life: she would face some horrible setback or failure, suffer for a time, and eventually she would be able to properly work through what she could have¡ªshould have¡ªdone better. The problem was that the process always took time. In spite of her dark thoughts, she got a little sleep, at least. There were nightmares, of course, but she somehow doubted that Pyra slept at all. She knew the expression of someone that was haunted far too well, but all she could do was hope the bright young girl could move past it. Green was already manning the Ranger table set up next to the wagon by the time Ranthia emerged from the tavern the next morning. It was early enough that no one else seemed to be up and about, yet there Green was, with her cosmetics in place and the only things that suggested anything was amiss was that her eyes didn¡¯t match her usual relaxed expression and the fact that she was already there¡ªsignificantly too early in the morning. ¡°I¡¯m not used to losing blooms under my care, you know. But almost every time that it has happened, it happened exactly like that. A situation that should have been safe; then a sudden tragedy that occurred before anyone could react. I want you to know that I don¡¯t blame you, Flower. None of us do.¡± Green assured her. Ranthia simply nodded, at first. At least until her mouth ran away from her. ¡°I had pegged him as strange though. I should have kept an eye on him.¡± She confessed. ¡°And what? Murdered a man because he turned to look at someone that started shouting behind him? Because he was ¡®strange¡¯? I¡¯ve known enough Rangers that would have done something like that, true enough. At the risk of speaking ill of the lost: the Artemises among our number. I, for one, am grateful that you are not that sort of person. What happened was an unpredictable tragedy, nothing more. Do not become the sort of Ranger that would readily deal out tragedies to others¡ªthose we are expected to protect¡ªall too easily, just to, perhaps, avoid experiencing another tragedy yourself.¡± Green answered. Ranthia knew that she would need to weigh those words. She had no answer to them yet. Ranthia and Green both wrote detailed reports to send to Ranger Command (a terrible curse of her writing proficiency). Then Green wrote a scroll to Hylla¡¯s parents, detailing what happened. Each of them took a turn writing memories of their journey with the young [Healer], adding them to the scroll (a wonderful benefit of her writing proficiency). Ranthia could only hope the warmth of their memories offered some cold comfort to her family, eventually. The scrolls were entrusted to a reliable courier. In the end, nothing else happened in the city. No other shimagu materialized. There wasn¡¯t anything else for the Rangers to do either. Green did what she could to reassure the locals, which seemed to be the primary reason anyone visited their table during their stay. In that time, many of the guards that had been on duty surrendered themselves to the governor; apparently they had allowed the [Healer] that was supposed to be on duty to foist it off on an under-leveled apprentice that should never have been assigned to the gate alone. Yet the [Healer] in question clearly felt no remorse¡ªgate duty was ¡°beneath him¡± and stepping away had ¡°probably saved his life.¡± Things were¡­ while not wrapped up, they were out of the Rangers¡¯ hands, and so it was time to leave Port Salona behind. So much had happened, yet they were still on schedule. It felt wrong, somehow. Pyra continued to refuse to allow any [Healer] to restore her ear. She insisted that she wanted to keep the scar to remember Hylla by, at least for the time being. Ranthia was just grateful that Juvenae was staying close to the grieving younger woman, had Pyra lacked someone to be there for her Ranthia knew that she would have felt obligated to try to do more. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Ranthia threw herself into her training more than ever. She had gotten a class level for [She who Dances with Chaos] out of the shimagu kill, but she knew that greater proficiency with the full capabilities of her Mirror class would offer more security for her teammates. Which meant that she needed to master using more of her mirror images to their full potential at the same time. She even ignored her 24th birthday¡ªit passed without incident, and her team remained wholly ignorant of it. The only thing she did to acknowledge the day was that she used her watch shift during the night to create a new image for [Image Recall] for her twenty-four-year-old self¡ªthe same as she did every year. Improvement came slowly, but every step mattered. The round had to continue, though the energy and enthusiasm behind Ranger Team 6 had become far more muted. The first aggressive dinosaur that they handled went smoothly, though Art received a minor wound¡ªjust a scratch really, but it was an uncomfortable reminder of what¡ªwho¡ªthey had lost. Green treated it with a salve she made from her garden, and they pressed forward. Towns passed by as they stayed on schedule. They handled more dinosaurs and monsters. Other minor incidents (a corrupt guard, another thief caught, etc.) were handled. A few killers and other blights on society were captured or ended. In every town they visited, people were helped. Green aside, the rest of them had become far more proactive about wanting to do a bit of good where they could. Smiles and gratitude eased the burdens they carried in their hearts. Abillo was the first to return to normal. Lysia recovered next, which pulled Art out of his funk rapidly. Tertia had recovered and was trying to gently help Ranthia. Pyra remained muted, however, no matter how many half-made smiles she developed when they helped others. She still refused to let anyone heal her ear, and her mood kept Juvenae distracted. Their biggest success on that leg of the journey was when they resolved a kidnapping ring that targeted children. ¡­Though they literally resolved it just by showing up in town. One of the guards was squirming oddly when they arrived, which drew their attention. Under their gaze, the man broke and threw himself at their mercy while he confessed to his role¡ªbeing bribed to keep patrols out of areas on certain days¡ªand gave them lists of names and locations. Multiple other men involved had confessed as well, as soon as the Rangers approached them. There was almost no need for even a cursory investigation since those that surrendered had given them so much. Seriously, what did they expect to happen, Rangers to just never show up in their town again? Many of those that surrendered claimed to do so out of a sense of guilt but¡­ honestly, how hard would it have been to just not kidnap children in the first place? The city was planning a grand festival to celebrate the mass execution of the criminals when Ranger Team 6 moved on. Then they arrived in Aquiliea. A group of protesters¡ªnot massive, there were less than a hundred men and women¡ªhad gathered outside the town. According to Green, it was the site of an incident where an aggressive rebellion had been put down years prior. Nerves were high in Aquiliea, but the protestors remained in their encampment and stayed peaceful. All they did was shout slogans and sing some poorly structured song about corruption. Ranthia kept her distance from the group though, the Rangers were booed and called ¡°agents of the emperor¡± if any of the protestors saw their armor or badges. Green had Art investigate them in a simple tunic¡ªwhich Ranthia thought was reckless, but she held her tongue¡ªand he returned two days later, drunk and all too happy to report that there didn¡¯t seem to be anything bad building up. The group wasn¡¯t monolithic, nor were they all angry about the same things; they had just come together to protest. Some were angry about women¡¯s rights, others didn¡¯t want an emperor dictating policy over the senate, one guy was just really mad about the tax rates of fresh crops differing from that of preserved foods. Overall, they were angry about society and wanted to voice it, but there were no calls to attack anyone or do anything stupid. Nothing came of it, so in the end Green made the call for them to keep moving when their time in the city came to an end. Ranthia wasn¡¯t sure what to think about the situation though. It really seemed like societal acceptance of their emperor and all that came with being an empire was on the decline. ¡­That or it had something to do with a second major war on the heels of their victory over the formorians. Oh well, at least no one had tried to arrest her that time around. Of course, life couldn¡¯t possibly let things stay quiet. They were barely half a day past where the protestors were encamped when Art¡ªstuck driving the wagon¡ªsuddenly screamed the word that everyone in Remus most feared: ¡°Ornithocheirus!¡± Ranthia was deep inside a bamboo thicket, but she still heard the shout. Immediately she ran¡ªdesperately¡ªfor the wagon. The bamboo blocked too much of her view, she had no idea where the creatures were, but she knew that the bamboo wouldn¡¯t be enough of a deterrent. Even if it were, there was no way that she¡¯d never be able to hide there, not knowing if her team was safe. At last¡ªshe had never felt so slow before¡ªRanthia erupted from the bamboo, covered in leaves and goo from smashing through the plants out of desperation. The scene was¡­ a lot to take in, but there were a few things that were far more important than the rest. The wagon was off the road and being encased in thick, thorny vines. Green¡¯s terrified¡ªthe woman didn¡¯t do terrified, damnit!¡ªexpression was visible only through the gap she left in the vines. The ornithocheirus were already winding up to dive, but Green was hesitating. Ranthia was too far away. She knew it with absolute confidence, despite the lack of time to think. Ranthia flashed a single handsign: close it! Green looked as if she was in pain, but the vines sealed the gap, even as the creatures descended on the wagon. Ranger wagons were overbuilt and incredibly sturdy¡ªwhen they weren¡¯t being squeezed by a kraken¡ªand with Green¡¯s vines protecting them they¡¯d be safe. Ranthia had to believe that. Because she had much larger things to worry about. Even as ornithocheirus committed suicide on the vines that protected the wagon¡ªestablishing an additional defensive layer of meat¡ªshe drew her knives. Others in the swarm had already seen her and were preparing to dive. Ordinarily she would have gone back into the bamboo and hoped the too-fragile plants would discourage the flock. But her damned mind just had to have realized that the ornithocheirus¡¯ flight path had them bound straight for the protestors¡¯ camp. If she let them give up and move on, she was consigning those people to death. Aquiliea would be fine¡ªRemus¡¯ cities knew how to protect themselves from the threat¡ªbut that camp was far too vulnerable, and the people were far too low level to escape. She had to hold the swarm, if she didn¡¯t¡­ She couldn¡¯t cause so many deaths. Hylla would have done everything she could have to save them, and she was the reason Hylla was gone. The bulk of the swarm had focused on the wagon, but it wouldn¡¯t hold their interest. Not for long. Her fear was absolute, but her guilt and her obligation kept her rooted in place. ¡°By Xaoc, I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this.¡± Ranthia whispered. ¡°Hey, fuck you!¡± Ranthia roared at the beasts, with every last bit of volume her lungs could produce, even as terror hammered through her heart. One by one mirror images were created around her; the first two were thrown to [Submind], but Ranthia tried to control four others herself. Not that she stopped there, [Scattered Reflections] could do up to sixteen images and the more she had up, the better. There was no need to waste the effort on channeling, [Reflections of Reality] was tantamount to suicide¡ªthere was no safe place for her true body. Her only hope was to throw herself into a desperate dance of death alongside her mirror images and hope that she could do the impossible: eliminate enough of the stupid beasts that they were forced to retreat the way that they came¡ªsolo. By whatever small mercy, it was only a midsized flock. Her mind was spinning as she tried to partially process every relevant thought, yet she felt like there was no time to pray to Xaoc. Gods and goddesses, how she wished that she could. It was more likely than not that she was about to die, be consumed, and the flock would still go murder all of those people. And yet, she stayed. All System notifications except new class skills or skill upgrades were muted¡ªshe needed every edge she could get. The dance began, and the flock arrived. Her naked knives flashed through the air. [Void Edge] was pointless, she didn¡¯t have enough knives to kill the entire swarm if she used it. And they were individually so frail that her strength and the iron¡¯s edge were more than sufficient. Mirror images shattered, but she replaced them as they fell¡ªtrying desperately, vainly to keep all sixteen up. Bodies struck around her as the creatures descended, then a different crash sounded just behind her. She barely could afford an instant to look¡ªher teammates had somehow wrenched free and launched an entire section of the wagon¡¯s arcanite reserves out to her position. Ranthia fought her way back to it and put it at her back. She promised herself that she¡¯d never forget that they tried to give her a real chance. Even if her mind continued to refer to the situation as her last stand¡ªno matter how she tried to deny the pessimism of reality. Crested snouts snapped at her. Winged dinosaurs smashed into the ground around her. Honestly, divebombing to try to kill or cripple their food¡ªusually killing or crippling themselves in the process¡ªwas a weird behavior. Somehow, she wasn¡¯t sure she had ever appreciated how strange it was before that moment. Still, she endured, she danced, and she slashed. A solid blow from her knives would cripple or kill a beast, and any member of the flock that was badly injured was just food for the flock¡ªsame as her. Their claws scratched her. Their teeth brought pain. But those were manageable. So long as she avoided those that tried to divebomb her, she could endure mere pain. The kraken had inflicted far worse. [Combat Awareness]¡¯s warnings and feedback alone were almost overwhelming¡ªmaking sense of the information took far more concentration than she could spare. There was never a single instant where she wasn¡¯t under attack, but the Skill was priceless since it allowed her to know which threats had to be evaded and which could be countered or ignored. It was her greatest dance, yet she was reliant wholly on [She who Dances with Chaos] to survive. It integrated all she had learned and all of her training since her battle with the kraken roughly two years ago. Her [Diffuse Reflectance] class was busy with mirror images. Her mirror images could fight with Void energy, called upon by [Ideal Reflectance], because the images of her knives wouldn¡¯t be consumed by the energy. It was a bizarre aspect of the skills that interplayed, but her mirror images were able to use their pale reflections of [Void Edge] while she couldn¡¯t. It let even her mirror images potentially thin the flock. It was an odd¡ªand somewhat distant¡ªthought, but if she succeeded, she would truly become a living legend. Kill notifications poured through the System, unseen. She danced with grace; she danced with lethality. She continued to hurl obscenities and hate at the swarm until her screams became incoherent. For a time, everything went well. Until it didn¡¯t. A larger ornithocheirus from the flock divebombed. She sensed it coming just in time with [Combat Awareness]. Due to its size she had to leap to the side to completely evade it. Yet she wasn''t able to parse what her senses and Skills told her in the instant she had to react: a second divebombing murderbeast was right behind it. [Combat Awareness] screamed. But she had no way to dodge in mid-air. She could have, perhaps, summoned a mirror image right next to her and kicked off of it. The thought didn¡¯t come in time. The dinosaur struck her shoulder. She was thrown backwards and nearly lost her feet, but she stayed upright, even as a crested snout snapped at her. Ranthia tried to slash it. ¡­Yet nothing happened. Instead, the ornithocheirus¡¯ sharp teeth tore a strip of flesh from her stomach¡ªalong with the laminar that was meant to protect it. She barely even noticed, because she was a bit distracted. All too distracted, really. Her left arm was gone. She screamed¡ªeither in agony or in terror, she wasn¡¯t even sure which. Desperately, Ranthia struggled to fight on. But the rhythm of her dance had become clouded and difficult to grasp. Pain didn¡¯t bother her as much as it should, no¡ªbut there was a massive difference in the mental impact between damage to an ephemeral form she knew was irrelevant and her own, true, body losing an arm. The wound felt more real. The tide of the battle turned against her. It became impossible to focus as well as she had to on her mirror images¡¯ own efforts. Her dance deteriorated into a pale shade of what it had been moments before. And, most of all, with a single arm, a single knife, she couldn¡¯t adequately defend herself. More wounds came. No longer just scratches, but bites and deep gouges through her flesh and armor. Every wound seemed to sap a bit more away from her ability to make proper use of her stats. She became a little slower. A little weaker. A little less precise. Less energetic. Her head was filled with one thought on echoing repeat: I¡¯m dying. It was strange, but the thought seemed somewhat detached. There were no desperate pleas to Xaoc, just a cold acknowledgement of what was happening. Worse, her mind seemed to focus even less on the horror of what were sure to be her final moments. Instead, she thought of her teammates in the wagon. They had to have heard her scream, and she wished that she hadn¡¯t made the sound. Had she had just kept her damned mouth shut they would have been able to hold onto hope until they found her gone. Then her mind helpfully reminded her of the protestors, those who would die next after she fell. At last, her mind turned to Hexara. The woman she loved and the warm joy and the silly smile on her face when they confessed their love for one another. Guilt weighed on Ranthia¡¯s very soul as her dance descended from the last vestiges of the chaotic rhythm that she once wielded. Then came another divebomb she was far too slow to react to. Ranthia crashed back into the arcanite and lost her footing, her Skills irrelevant before her waning lifeforce. More wounds came in rapid succession, even as her vision grew fuzzy and grey. She was going to become yet another word on that accursed monument to despair. Even Hylla didn¡¯t get that much, which was so unfair. Yet, a heartbeat away from the end¡­ Ranthia¡¯s resolve that had carried her through everything surged anew. One by one, she willed three new mirror images to take form, and she forced [Submind] to take them all¡ªthe fact that the skill hadn¡¯t ever been able to do more than two was fucking irrelevant. She needed a three-point defense while her bloodied and tattered body curled up against the arcanite. While she, for the first time, channeled. A fourth mirror image was sent ahead of the trio, and she shifted into it. ¡°I will not die, not to you!¡± Ranthia screamed at the flock, her head suddenly clear of the haze of weakness and agony. [Void Edge] activated as she cleaved both knives through the air in broad arcs. Dozens of dinosaurs died in an instant. A heartbeat worth of breathing room, bought at the price of weaponry she had a very finite supply of. In that heartbeat, Ranthia joined her other images in the protection of whatever was left of her true body¡ªshe couldn¡¯t bear to look. Two more images were created as she found moments. The six of them had to hold the line. Three images controlled by [Submind]. Two by her. And the one she inhabited. She knew that even the inactive images that she had used before had killed a few dinosaurs¡ªonly by virtue of being targets for divebombs¡ªbut there was no longer any room to spare in her head for them. Because she was channeling again, for the inevitable moment she had to shift again. She was trapped in a desperate, defensive battle. Realistically, knives were a fucking idiotic weapon to use against the ornithocheirus. When humans fought swarms¡ªtypically only when the damned nightmares attacked a city or there was no escape¡ªthey used spears. They kept range from the death that the monstrous dinosaur swarms represented. Only the stupidest of fools ever made a brief-lived effort to fight point blank against a flock. It was suicide. And it was her only chance. She was committed. There was no room to dance anymore, not while she protected what was left of¡­ well, her. She and her five uninhabited mirror images fought side by side as a wall of suffering. When they broke, she replaced them instantly. When she took debilitating wounds, she shifted into one of the mirror images that she controlled, dismissed the wounded image, and replaced it while she began to channel again. Thank Xaoc¡ªthank her team¡ªfor the arcanite. It was the only thing that allowed her to even try such a desperate gambit. She fought. She struggled. She bled. She suffered. More than once, she got hurt because she just had to check behind her to make sure her true body was still there. It was¡­ haunting to see. It looked like the dead remains of a thing, hardly even human anymore. But it wouldn¡¯t get any worse while she was out of it, she wouldn¡¯t let it be shattered. It might look like a pile of raw meat, but it was still her. It had to be. When divebombs came, she and her mirror images had to take them. After all, if she dodged, the divebomb would just destroy her true body. Again and again, she broke. Flesh was torn. Bones were shattered. Her spine crushed. And then she shifted to another body, and the struggle continued. And continued. No skill evolutions or new skill offers that would turn the tide came. Life wasn¡¯t a [Bard]¡¯s song where the hero found some new strength to turn the tide in their moment of need. In her experience, she was often just in a shit place and had to struggle to hold on, deprived of everything¡ªeven hope. Just a desperate battle against black crow¡¯s current avatar of destruction. She broke. She tore. She suffered. But, above all else, she cut. When her channel wasn¡¯t ready, divebombs forced her to waste yet another of her dwindling supply of knives. [Void Edge] could erase or, at least, redirect some of the momentum. Anything to protect her true self. Assuming her true body would even survive. But she had no time to worry about its state. There was no dance, no grace. Just a final line that could not be allowed to fail. If her line even buckled a little at the wrong moment, she was done. Her true body would be destroyed, and she would face Xaoc again. With a [Covenant] that reflected her adherence to her pledge to Him at less than a third of the level it should have been. She wasn¡¯t ready to face Him. Exhaustion crept deep into her being. Or, perhaps, it was the effects of the severe damage to her true body. Yet she fought on past exhaustion, past despair. Eventually, she made a slash and¡­ missed? The concept confused her for an instant. The flock was so thick that missing should have been impossible. Dimly, she finally realized the flock had thinned. A brief slice of eternity later, and they were gone. The survivors, at last, were fleeing the way they had come. She lacked the strength to even look and see how much she had thinned their numbers. She just kind of stood there, among the blood, gore, and carnage. Other mirror images began to wink out of existence around her, as her focus collapsed, as her desperation faded. Then she heard her name, though it sounded like it came from far away. It required a level of effort that Herculix himself would have been proud of, but she managed to look in the direction the sound had come from. Her team. ¡°You drove off a swarm by yourself! You¡¯re incredible!¡± She wasn¡¯t even sure who yelled that. ¡°No.¡± Ranthia replied in a small voice. She pointed at what was behind the sheet of arcanite, what precious little was left, hidden from their view. With the last drops of her strength, she released her channel and allowed [Reflections of Reality] to return her to the ruined vessel that she was supposed to be in. And her consciousness was lost to darkness. Book 1 - Chapter 57 - The Price of Life Ranthia¡¯s world was blissful darkness, interrupted by brief flashes of light and sound. None of it had meaning. Voices called. Things changed. None of it truly reached her. Yet within the tranquility of the darkness, Ranthia felt a strange divide within herself. Part of her felt like she was floating, warm and at ease. Yet another part of her felt like she was locked in a tremendous, desperate struggle. But hadn¡¯t her struggle ended? She wasn¡¯t sure. Nothing made sense anymore. Sometimes the only noise she could make out was the distant cawing of a crow. Each time she noted the sound, it seemed to grow ever closer. And then something changed. Ranthia¡¯s perception surged upward, out of the depths. And an instant later her eyes flashed open as she gasped for breath. She tried to move, yet some sort of force pulled her back down¡ªand raw terror filled her as she feared the force would pull her back into the darkness she had just escaped. There were voices speaking over her. For a few terrifying heartbeats Ranthia remained unable to understand anything that happened. But her mind pulled itself back together bit by bit. She began to remember. And with memory came realization. She was inside a building. A man with bright, shining eyes was looking down at her. There was a woman with eyes that shone with an intoxicating shifting pattern and¡ªwait, that was Green. She knew Green. ¡°Where¡­ am I?¡± Ranthia managed to rasp out. Her throat felt horrible. The soft¡ªhehe, squishy and warm¡ªvines that bound her loosened, and then gently raised her back a little up a little until she sat up enough. The man held some sort of container up to her lips. She tried to drink greedily at whatever was in it, but he pulled it away after a few sips. ¡°Are you with us, Flower?¡± Green asked, worry still etched on her face. Ranthia raised her arms and rubbed at her own cheeks, trying to get a feel for her status. Her hands felt cold. Wait¡­ hands? She stared at her left arm in wonder. She had been so sure that it was gone, lost forever¡­ ¡­[Healers], right. [Healers] were a thing. She looked to the unknown man and made an obvious assumption. ¡°Thank you.¡± She croaked. He smiled warmly down at her¡ªthe guy was tall. Or maybe the table she was on was short. That would also make sense. ¡°She¡¯ll be fine, just take it easy. Get her to finish that potion, but make sure she goes slowly.¡± The man informed Green, before he walked away. Green immediately took one of Ranthia¡¯s hands between her own. Her hands were much warmer than Ranthia¡¯s, which was oddly soothing. Some distant, nagging bit of Ranthia¡¯s mind insisted that she shouldn¡¯t appreciate the contact, but it was too hard to remember why. It didn¡¯t matter. The hands on her own were too important. They offered warmth, they represented life. The contact was precious and Ranthia savored it while it lasted. ¡°What happened?¡± Ranthia managed to ask instead. ¡°We nearly lost you, sweet Flower. Aquiliea didn¡¯t have a [Healer] of sufficient talent to save you. We had to use potions to try to buy time and trust that you would be strong enough to hold on¡­ When we got here, I was told that it was too late, but he still managed¡­¡± The woman broke off with a sob. Her eyes were damp when she looked back to Ranthia. ¡°You foolish, precious Flower¡­! What were you thinking? When we saw you behind the arcanite¡­ Our buds were in a complete panic, and even our stubborn Shrub barely held it together. I couldn¡¯t believe you were still alive like that.¡± Ranthia looked away, unable to face the guilt. ¡°But you¡¯re alive¡­ You held on long enough. Thank you. Here, you need to finish drinking this. Take it slow, Flower.¡± Green held up the potion. Ranthia had to struggle against the urge to guzzle it down. She felt desperately thirsty. With effort, she managed to take slow sips until, at last, the last of the blue fluid was done. Distantly, she thought it tasted awful, but her thirst overrode that. ¡°What¡­ was it?¡± Her throat felt a bit better after being blessed with moisture. ¡°Potion to restore the blood you lost and rehydrate your body. Old Cormus only has a Brilliance [Healer] class, but he¡¯s the highest-level [Healer] I know in the area.¡± Tension seemed to evaporate from Green¡¯s body, then fatigue seemed to settle over her, and she had to stumble back to a nearby chair and collapse into it. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°She asks if I¡¯m okay¡­ Ha! Yes, my foolish Flower, I am fine. Just tired. I¡¯ve been unable to rest since that attack, of course. Our horses would have never gotten you here in time, so I had to use my abilities¡ªand a couple of irreplaceable seeds¡ªto pull the wagon at speed, once we got you and the arcanite back in the wagon. Art, Lysia, and Tertia stayed with the horses, they should catch up in a few days.¡± Green replied with a surprising amount of heated sass. It was a side of the woman that Ranthia had never seen before. Ranthia fell silent and collected her thoughts for several long moments. Finally, a question she had to ask bubbled up. ¡°Were the protesters okay?¡± ¡°Yes, of cours¡ªwait, is that why you did such a foolish thing?¡± Green demanded. Ranthia nodded meekly. ¡°Oh, my hopelessly foolish Flower! I had thought they just saw you before you could hide¡­ But you¡­ Of course. Of course, you would attack a flock of ornithocheirus on purpose.¡± Green seemed to age right before Ranthia¡¯s eyes as she sagged deeper into her chair. ¡°I¡¯ve spoken before about losing young blossoms under my care to sudden tragedy in a safe scenario, but a few have been like you. Those that think themselves an immortal hero in a [Bard]¡¯s pretty story. Those that sacrifice themselves in a foolish effort to prevent a single tragedy. ¡°Bards love a heroic sacrifice, crowds adore it. But the concept is idiotic, dearie. I say any hero that knowingly or recklessly sacrifices their own life should be stripped of the title of hero. ¡°Once you are dead, the number of lives you can enrich and the number of tragedies you can prevent are zero. You realize this, yes? A true hero chooses the battles they face, because they can bring no further good, no more joy, nor any additional chaos into this world once they are gone. In all of the history of Remus the list of situations where one must throw away one¡¯s life for the greater good is vanishingly small. It is a scenario that is the product of fantasy and romanticization. Often, it is simply the product of those trying to justify the poor decisions a so-called hero made.¡± The woman ranted. Green scooted her chair closer and looked down into Ranthia¡¯s eyes. ¡°Sweet Flower, let me share with you an obvious secret. The Sentinels often work solo, but they are part of an organization. Their purpose is to match the right Sentinel¡ªand yes, sometimes Sentinels work together, no matter what the propaganda states¡ªto the right job. Everything about the task of a real ¡®hero¡¯ requires one to minimize risk. ¡°There were eighty-four protestors. Had the flock found them¡ªand it very likely could have missed them since they kept inside their tents¡ªit would be probable that some would have escaped. Aquiliea was nearby too. I will be blunt, sweet Flower, in hope that you take this lesson to heart. You tried to kill yourself in a very unlikely gambit to maybe, possibly, save a relatively small number of lives that may not have even been in danger. You, my sweet, are foolish.¡± Green smiled, but the smile sure didn¡¯t feel like any of Green¡¯s usual warm smiles. ¡°Now get some rest, so an old woman may follow suit. But I want you to think about this tomorrow.¡± Green ordered. Ranthia sighed and closed her eyes. She knew she would be unable to just rest, she had so much to figure out and think about. A very short time later, she was sound asleep. The next morning the [Healer]¡ªOld Cormus, because his younger brother was also named Cormus by their wildly unimaginative father and was thus Young Cormus¡ªdischarged Ranthia from his care. Good as new! ¡­Aside from some new, exciting nightmares that joined her old kraken and war goblin hits. How could a night of slumber be both harrowing and refreshing at the same time? Soon after, Ranthia found herself seated in a tavern while she sipped small spoonfuls of some sort of surprisingly tasty soup that Old Cormus had given her a day¡¯s worth of. The soup was thin, with soft vegetables, strange white soft things with little flavor, and shredded chicken breast meat. Apparently, Old Cormus was a skilled [Chef] in addition to being a [Healer] and [Alchemist]. Of course, it was remarkably difficult to eat the soup while Pyra remained attached to her, the girl¡¯s head pressed into her lap while she continued to bawl. Just as she had been since Ranthia sat down. For whatever reason¡ªnot that she was complaining¡ªRanthia didn¡¯t feel uncomfortable at all with the physical affection and just stroked the younger girl¡¯s too-long¡ªseriously, so impractical¡ªhair with her ¡®free¡¯ hand. She got over her burgeoning touch phobia just in time, apparently, since her entire team¡ªminus the three yet to arrive¡ªstayed crowded around her. Even Abillo and Juvenae were weirdly affectionate and social. That night, Ranthia found sleep to be beyond her reach. For a time she tossed and turned, but finally she decided that she needed to go for a walk or something. Her thoughts were dark and heavy, and Green¡¯s words still weighed on her. Ranthia strapped her sandals on, carefully crept across the floor, and opened her door. And nearly shrieked when she found Green on the other side of it with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. Ranthia found herself seated across from the woman at a small table in Green¡¯s room. A large pot of some sort of tea¡ªthe pot was so heavily inscribed that it almost glowed¡ªsat on the table, along with two mugs. Green lifted the pot and carefully poured steaming tea into each mug. The beverage was¡­ honestly a delight. It wasn¡¯t like any of the various teas that Ranthia had politely tolerated before¡ªit was fruity and spiced. She had never even mentioned her distaste for tea to Green before, but somehow the woman seemed to know. The woman seemed to know far more than she should have. ¡°I suppose I should begin by telling you a bit more about myself and what it is I do as a Ranger.¡± Green began, with a surprisingly somber tone of voice. ¡°I didn¡¯t become a Ranger through the conventional channels. I was the apprentice to Sentinel Nature and served as part of his support team for years. The man was insufferable and so detached from civility that it was maddening to try to hold a conversation with him, but he had a passion for plants that I never could live up to. I will always admire that, even as I trample his legacy. ¡°He expected me to succeed him someday. Instead, when he sent me to the Academy and for my necessary ¡®single round,¡¯ I fell in love with the humanity of the Rangers that I interacted with. Not the droll paragons of humanity that Command would prefer everyone to believe make up the ranks of the Rangers, but the ones with buried potential. Those who had endured great suffering yet pressed forward, those that were easily overlooked by others, and those who were generally considered unacceptable. There was so much talent that was driven out during my time at the Academy or left on the bench. ¡°I refused Nature¡¯s orders to return to supporting him after I finished my round. Three rounds later, I finally became a team leader, and I mercilessly exploited my connection to a Sentinel. I received special permission to craft my team myself each round. I pick the buds that only became Rangers because the death toll surpassed expectations and the fools at the Academy had failed to drive them away, such as our kind Pyra. I pick the buds that need a bit of careful nurturing to help them find their way forward, such as our lovely Tertia. And I pick those who have already bloomed but have been harmed in ways no [Healer] can touch, such as you. ¡°Even when Nature got himself killed, I felt no desire to become a Sentinel. The best good I can do is exactly where I am. For a time, I thought I had misjudged you. You carried yourself with such tenacity, I thought you were building yourself back up. But that clearly hasn¡¯t been the case. ¡°Vibrant Flower, it is time for us to discuss exactly what you have been through. You have plainly been suffering far more than I knew.¡± Green concluded. The conversation was not a delight, but perhaps it was something Ranthia needed far more than a tasty beverage. It didn¡¯t make the process easy though. Green dredged every bit of emotional baggage, guilt, and heartbreak that Ranthia carried. Hylla¡¯s murder came first¡ªRanthia supposed Green felt she had already said her piece about the latest incident. There was a surprising level of absolute bitterness and guilt Ranthia carried over the girl¡¯s death, she found. Green talked her through it and reminded her that she had done absolutely the right thing every step of the way. Green¡¯s final words on the matter struck a chord within Ranthia: ¡°It is possible to commit no mistakes and still suffer a loss. That is not a weakness or a failing, sweet Flower. That is life.¡± Next came a discussion of Ranger Team 13¡¯s final battle. Ranthia¡¯s restrictions and why she refused to follow them ever again (she didn¡¯t miss Green muttering ¡°Sentinels¡± under her breath either). Leoios¡¯ insistence. The order to attack, so stupid on hindsight, yet exactly what they trained to do. The deaths she watched, one after another. Her friends, her comrades. The stupid sparrow whose fate was forever unknown; she had no idea if it was another casualty or if it was freed once its bonded partner died. The desperate, vengeful struggle against the kraken. The pain. The numbness to pain that she had carried ever since. Green didn¡¯t even have to say how foolish it was; Ranthia had spent roughly two years since dwelling on just how damned unlikely her victory was. She spoke of what carried her forward the times she nearly gave in and accepted her death. ¡­Which naturally led to a long discussion about Hexara. Ranthia¡¯s hopes and dreams and the heartbreak they resulted in. The rings she had in storage. A promise that was broken without Ranthia ever knowing about it. Ranthia shed many, many tears throughout her tirade on that topic. Tatius and Pupius came next, her first true guilt. Her fathers that she had never known or appreciated as family, until it was too late. Her own failures that led to being separated from them¡ªto not being there for them in their final moments. The time wasted on an ex that she never even learned the name of, that she never could have had a future with. The Void¡­ Ranthia still struggled to speak of it. In spite of everything, every brush with death she had ever experienced, every moment of helplessness¡­ in many ways it still haunted her more than anything. A fear so taboo even her nightmares refused to touch on it again. Only her own memories could return her to that Void. ¡­Or another act of stunning incompetence with her shifting, she supposed. Green carefully guided Ranthia through discussing various missions and Adventurer jobs that had scarred her in ways she had never noticed. The first bandit camp that she ever took down as a Ranger, and the kid that haunted her at the time. The first man that she killed, who should have killed her in retribution before he perished. Things like that. Eventually, despite Ranthia¡¯s best efforts to avoid the subject, she somehow found herself discussing her mother and the terrible memories that stemmed from literally every single one of her encounters with the damned woman. And since she was that deep into it, Ranthia followed it through to the logical conclusion. She told Green about her own rebirth at Xaoc¡¯s command. The guilt about whomever Ranthia had been, before she became the girl that was lost. The guilt about taking her mother¡¯s child away from her, and never even being able to tell her why. She concluded with her vague recollection of her first death. It somehow felt even more real to her after her latest near-death experience. Green gave no indications of her own personal thoughts or feelings about matters, not even about Hexara¡¯s actions or Ranthia¡¯s inability to face her. She simply discussed, probed, and kept Ranthia¡¯s drink topped off. The woman also seemed to have an endless supply of clean and lightly scented handkerchiefs for Ranthia to ruin. Ranthia cried, a lot. She hadn¡¯t cried so long at once since¡­ Hexara, which was barely a year ago. In retrospect, she wondered when she had become such a crybaby. Not that Green seemed to judge her for it, if anything the older woman seemed to be doing her best to encourage Ranthia to let it out. In the end, Ranthia felt wrung out and exhausted. Green seemed to be proud of her, something about letting it all out being good for the soul. Ranthia had her doubts, but she continued to dance to the woman¡¯s tune. The sun had long since risen by the time that they finally finished, yet Green still sent Ranthia right back to bed once she was done. Ranthia¡­ thought she might have started to feel better. Maybe a little. Her armor was in frightful condition, so they had adjusted one of the spare sets to fit her properly and transferred her battered badge to it. Her vest had become more than a bit damaged beneath it, but she still refused to get rid of it, even if the patch job was ugly. Fortunately, Green was able to help restore Ranthia¡¯s blindfold too. It was a bit more tattered now, but she kind of liked the effect of its more rugged appearance. Ranthia was doing push-ups outside the tavern a few days after her reawakening when she was distracted by a strange, high-pitched sound. It was wildly out of place, and it took her a moment to even figure out where it was coming from. And then she saw them: two horses in the distance, rapidly approaching. Even with her vitality she was only barely able to pick out Art on one horse, while Lysia sat in front of Tertia on the other, the smaller woman¡¯s arm pointed straight at Ranthia while she emitted a horrendous noise that drew attention from everyone in the area. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Oh Xaoc¡­¡± Ranthia whispered. She stood and braced herself for what was about to happen. ¡­And wondered just how high Lysia¡¯s vitality already was¡ªshe was only level 228!¡ªto immediately recognize Ranthia from that far away. Ranthia sat somehow squeezed between Lysia and Pyra in the same chair. Sure, they were both pretty petite, but Ranthia was taller than many men and had quite a bit of muscle packed into her lean frame. Yet somehow all three of them were definitely crammed into that chair. Once again, she was immensely relieved to be back to not minding physical contact, because just a few days ago¡ª¡­maybe, everyone had been very cagey about how long she had been dying for¡ªit would have been a torture she couldn¡¯t have endured. ¡­Now if only she could have kept her mind from wandering into other thoughts, since apparently with physical touch being back on the menu her mind and body craved other things too. And the close proximity with attractive women was not helping. ¡°Okay, we¡¯re finally all gathered. I have had talks with our sweet Flower. By a miracle she is still with us, and she has promised to never be so stupid again.¡± Green began their meeting. Ranthia nodded in meek agreement. She had gotten it well beaten through her thick skull just how foolhardy she had been, it truly was a lesson narrowly learned. ¡°We should be behind, but we actually had to skip a town on our route to get here. Art reports that the town we skipped had no need for any Rangers, so we got lucky there. That said, I haven¡¯t actually set up our desk yet or checked in with the city guard. Starting tomorrow we will find out if there are any local problems to resolve. I wanted our full team gathered together first. ¡°Ranthia, sweet Flower, you and Tertia will visit the city guard tomorrow morning. Abillo, young bud, you will be with me at the desk. Art, stout Shrub, you take the rest of the girls around town and see if anything comes up. We should do this quickly and efficiently, so we don¡¯t fall behind.¡± The rest of the meeting passed without anything of note coming up. So the instant it was done Ranthia hurriedly excused herself and returned to her room before her hands or her fantasies got the best of her. Having her sex drive returned without warning or preamble threatened to overwhelm her. Godsdamnit she hadn¡¯t felt like that since she was a teenager! ¡°So, the rumors are true, there are Rangers in town. Thank the gods; we have a major problem and could use help.¡± Ranthia and Tertia glanced at each other. Those had been the guard captain¡¯s first words the instant they set foot in his office. That was a very bad sign, obviously. ¡°Ranger Ranthia, second in command of Ranger Team 6. What seems to be the problem, captain?¡± She stepped forward. ¡°We have a saboteur in our fair city! He vaguely names the location of his next target ahead of time, but as of yet we have been unable to specifically match the target well enough to have sufficient forces positioned to capture him. Our people live in fear of this dangerous saboteur, and he simply must be stopped. We are desperate and our top citizens are downright enraged. Noble Rangers, please, we need any assistance you may offer!¡± There was no condescension in his tone¡ªthe man honestly came just short of outright begging. ¡°Can you provide me with the records for what he has done thus far, along with the information you have about the next target? I¡¯ll bring this to our team leader, and we¡¯ll see what we can do.¡± Ranthia replied with a neutral tone. Something didn¡¯t add up. She and half of the team had been there for days, yet the people in the city that she had met to date hadn¡¯t seemed terribly worried about anything. In fact, they seemed to be in high spirits. ¡°Thank you, oh brave and courageous Rangers! This scroll contains everything we know about the next target, along with our own theories! If you can eliminate him, you would do our fair city a great service!¡± The man was laying it on thick, which didn¡¯t excuse the fact that it was only part of what Ranthia had requested. Ranthia opened her mouth to argue. After entirely too much time was wasted, Ranthia and Tertia left the captain with stormy moods. The captain of the guard had insisted¡ªno matter how Ranthia demanded or cajoled¡ªthat the details of the prior acts of the saboteur were sealed on the order of the governor. The man outright refused to share the details in light of it. Honestly, the whole thing reeked to Ranthia¡ªand Tertia quietly agreed¡ªafter all of that, but she dutifully brought her report, and the solitary scroll they were provided, to Green. Green and Ranthia met in the wagon, while Tertia assisted Abillo at the desk. Tellingly, no one had brought word of this saboteur to the Ranger desk. ¡°I agree, Flower, something seems off in the situation.¡± Green began. ¡°So we should¡ª¡± Ranthia started, but her leader cut her off. ¡°Take budding Tertia and find our stout Shrub and his team. Then I want the six of you to head to the city¡¯s hall of records. Do not let them stop you; you are Rangers and your authority outstrips that of anyone you are likely to meet. Use the records and investigate for yourselves what the true situation may be. ¡°We will discuss what you find, but I will almost certainly have you take quiet Abillo with the rest of your team tonight so that you may locate this ¡®saboteur¡¯ when he strikes and get to the roots of the situation. I have full faith in you and the rest of our garden, and I trust this will all be resolved before breakfast.¡± Green ordered. ¡°¡­What about you?¡± Ranthia asked. ¡°Oh, my darling Flower, you don¡¯t need an old woman getting underfoot. You have all the resources and cleverness that you could possibly need. Off with you now.¡± Green replied in a breezy tone that made it hard to argue. A very confused Ranthia left the wagon and retrieved Tertia so they could seek out the others. The poor low-tier city guardsman was under strict orders to keep everyone out of the records building unless they carried the seal of the governor in their hand. The kid plainly had no idea how to handle six Rangers that refused to stop. He just kind of stood there and fretted while they forced their way past him after his explanation of why he couldn¡¯t let them in. Once inside, they scattered and began to search for the records that they sought. They knew what to look for and all of them could read just fine. Soon they were gathered around a table, as they reviewed the so-called ¡®villainy¡¯ of the alleged ¡®saboteur.¡¯ There were slightly more than a dozen rude remarks about various wealthy citizens charcoaled near their estates or businesses¡ªalways in a location that could be scrubbed clean relatively easily. Thrice colorful goo that could be wiped off harmlessly was smeared over statues of city patriarchs. The shutters on a wealthy citizen¡¯s manor had once been removed and reattached the wrong way out, which created an ¡°eyesore.¡± A sign for a public restroom was repeatedly relocated next to the statue that the ¡°grateful city¡± had made of its current governor. For a fortnight the ¡®saboteur¡¯ managed to sneak into a different citizen¡¯s estate and add a bit of yellow dye to his private bath every time he got out¡ªin the window of time before the slaves could change the water out¡ªwhich started a rumor among his slaves that he had become incontinent. Ranthia had to fight to keep her face business-like as she reviewed the list of ¡®crimes.¡¯ Tertia snickered openly more than once. Pyra actually vibrated with suppressed giggles. Juvenae, unsurprisingly, looked bored. Lysia seemed shocked at the boldness involved in some of the acts, but she wasn¡¯t mad. Art just frowned more and more. When Ranthia met his eyes, he quietly signed that something was majorly wrong. She didn¡¯t disagree; the captain of the guard had all but lied to her face about the situation. This was no situation for a Ranger team. Now the question was simple: why were they so desperate to kill some childish prankster? Juvenae grumbled and groused and generally did her best to oh-so-subtly let Ranthia know she was in a displeased mood. Night had, at last, fallen and the appointed time for the saboteur prankster to strike was near. Ranthia stood next to Juvenae while they guarded the grain storage site that was the most probable location for the next defacement. The advance notice their target gave was that he would next strike the grain storage of the town¡¯s greatest villains (thank Xaoc, the guard captain had been ineffectual at blotting the word out). In the records building, she and the other Rangers had tracked food prices and found the citizen that owned this particular facility more consistently overcharged when he sold from his stores to the people of the city during the winter. According to the scroll they were provided, the city guards were certain it was a larger site downtown that would be hit¡­ because it was the largest in town. The other Rangers were in pairs (well, one pair and one group of three) at other food stores in town, with Ranthia¡¯s mirror images stationed as close as she could get them¡ªjust in case their own consensus was no better than the guards¡¯. Someday, somehow, she needed to get [Reflections of Reality] capped so the range she could shift to was as wide as the range she could keep mirror images at. Granted, with how aggressively stubborn the skill was about leveling, it was an improbable dream, but it would be nice¡­ Juvenae was irritated for three reasons. The larger reason was the same one that was bothering all of them¡ªthat they were stuck dealing with what was basically just local political posturing. The second reason was that she was stuck with Ranthia instead of paired with Pyra¡ªeven if she agreed that the groups they made were better balanced with them separated. But, of course, the third was the pettiest¡ªshe was unable to find a man for the night while they were stuck dealing with this. Ranthia had limited sympathy, no matter how hypocritical her rekindled sense of lust made her. Ranthia was about to try to remind the woman to keep quiet when their ¡®saboteur¡¯ made his move. Juvenae flashed hand signs quickly. The message was a bit garbled given the limitations of the hand sign vocabulary, but in effect she saw a man on a rooftop that was manipulating the block of charcoal that was rubbing insults into the stone building, right beneath the owner¡¯s name that was engraved into the stonework. The signs concluded with Juvenae saying that she was going after him. Ranthia just rolled her eyes and grabbed Juvenae¡¯s arm before she could move, then cut Juvenae¡¯s glare off by raising her hand in front of her teammate¡¯s face and signing her explanation: Mirage classer. Ranthia had activated [Vision of the Void] the instant the action started. The man on the rooftop was indistinct and hazy¡ª[Vision of the Void] was high enough to let her see right through a Mirage of that level. And she could plainly see the actual perpetrator. The charcoal block wasn¡¯t being manipulated through a [Mage] class or such, a woman hung from the side of the building and held it as she wrote her claim that the man who owned the building was a ball-less thief that stole from the people and had nothing to offer society except the shit that flowed from both ends of his body. With a final hand sign telling Juvenae to hold still, Ranthia leapt into the air, kicked off a nearby building for more height, and grabbed onto the rougher stonework near the woman. ¡°Hold it, we need to talk.¡± Ranthia called out, careful not to raise her voice too loudly. Yet the woman still panicked and lost her grip on the rope she clung to and dropped with a shriek that she promptly bit off. Ranthia just groaned internally as she kicked off the wall and narrowly managed to catch her before she landed. Her knees didn¡¯t particularly appreciate the heroics, but the woman was safe in her arms. Even in Ranthia¡¯s arms, the woman was still wrapped in shadows, which had to look weird from Juvenae¡¯s perspective. Especially since the woman was also wrapped in an illusion to try and hide her form within the shadows and most of the shadows along with it. But Ranthia saw through it all. ¡­And, yes, the woman was attractive, roughly Ranthia¡¯s age¡ªmaybe a year or so younger¡ªwith long dark hair and wide, terrified eyes. ¡°Like I said, we need to talk.¡± Ranthia mumbled, before she carefully helped the woman back onto her own feet. It was time to get some answers. Naturally, the woman put up a Mirage and tried to sneak away, but Ranthia just grabbed her arm. The woman sighed and dismissed her shadows and Mirages. ¡°Fine, you¡¯ve got me. Damned corrupt guards¡­¡± The woman grumbled. ¡°We¡¯re Rangers, and like I said: we need to talk. Let¡¯s start with your name.¡± Ranthia replied while Juvenae approached. ¡°Name¡¯s Nona, level 190 Dark [Mage], so you better watch yourself, Ranger.¡± The woman replied angrily. ¡°Cute, but I¡¯m better than twice your actual level, and my teammate here is actually a [Mage] as dangerous as you¡¯re pretending to be. Maybe don¡¯t try to convince her to immolate you? Anyhow, you¡¯re a level 130 Mirage [Artisan] and a level 99 Dark [Artisan]. Impressive levels for a city girl of your age, but you do have a swarm of guards and wealthy idiots trying to kill you. But no more lies¡ªwe¡¯re Rangers, they don¡¯t work on us. So, Nona, will you give us your actual story?¡± Ranthia smiled at the woman. The woman cursed through her teeth and seethed for a few moments before she deflated. ¡°Fine. My name really is Nona. My mom was a prostitute at a brothel, and lucky me, my da¡¯s a sack of shit. He¡¯s an official for the city that¡¯s supposed to be in charge of making sure the local wealthy business owners don¡¯t collude and make life hell for everyone. Except they gave him a taste of a finer life, and he¡¯s enabled all of this. So, I¡¯m aimin¡¯ to show all of Remus that they¡¯re all shit and maybe liven up the lives of those that suffer under them a bit. ¡°I never wanted to be a prostitute like mom was. In a better world I wanted to entertain kids with Mirages ¡®n they¡¯d never even see the real me as I manipulated puppets and other props along with the fake stuff. Add some fun to the world, y¡¯know? But no, the world¡¯s shit and the guards couldn¡¯t kill me so now yer going to.¡± Nona finished her speech and glared at Ranthia, as if daring her to draw her weapon. ¡°Nah, you¡¯re free to go. Thanks for the information! But can you give me a list of these problematic citizens before you go?¡± Ranthia replied with a smile. Nona stared at Ranthia in utter disbelief, but a moment later she hurriedly rattled off a list of names¡ªgods and goddesses, Ranthia hoped Juvenae¡¯s memory was as sharp as it seemed, because not a one of them stuck for her¡ªand the moment she was done the woman was wrapped in her shadows again and fled the scene. ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t just do that because you thought she was attractive.¡± Juvenae muttered. ¡°So, want to join me in the morning when I meet with the city guard about the details they left out?¡± Ranthia tried to hide her blush with a feral grin. How had Juvenae known?! Ranthia had been nothing but professional! Yes, the woman had curves in all of the right places, but that had nothing¡ªvery little to do with why Ranthia let her go! The woman was an agent of chaos. Even if Ranthia had wanted to stop Noli¡ªnope¡ªshe couldn¡¯t have. ¡®and I shall endeavor to spare those that cause true Chaos.¡¯ Her [Covenant] guided every action she took, it was a natural part of her being and her psyche. She¡¯d never truly run into a situation where her [Covenant] forced her to do something she wouldn¡¯t have¡ªshe was pretty sure she would have released the woman even without it. But it also provided a wonderful excuse. ¡°I¡¯m in, but you should have told me you were into women. We could have been working together to help one another get some fun at night.¡± Juvenae added with a smirk Ranthia could only blush and mutter that she would think about it. ¡­Though her dreams were getting awfully problematic¡ªat least when they weren¡¯t nightmares. The next morning, Ranthia entered the guard station in a diamond formation with Juvenae, Tertia, and Abillo. The others were with Green, ready for an emergency signal if it became necessary. It was time to determine if this was a case of corruption, and yet Ranthia was still somehow left in charge. ¡­Which suited her just fine: she was mad, and she had full authority to make some chaos of her own. A few guards protested, but they were fully geared Rangers and Ranthia just shoved past them as she stormed straight into the captain¡¯s office. It was a bit of a shame that he didn¡¯t have a door, she would have loved to have kicked it open for the dramatics. ¡°You lied to me.¡± Ranthia¡¯s voice was cold, and she took a step closer to the man with every word. Gods and goddesses, it was so hard to keep the grin off her face. It was so much fun! He opened his mouth and began to protest and puff himself up. In return, she raised her hands and slowly untied her blindfold while he trailed off, uncertain about what was happening. She lowered the blindfold slowly in her hand and turned her dark, inky eyes with their inhuman lack of pupils on the man while he shuddered out of either terror or revulsion. ¡°I do not appreciate being lied to. ¡®Saboteur¡¯ you said. What a sick, pathetic joke.¡± Ranthia all but snarled. Ranthia passed her blindfold off to Juvenae, then leaned forward and placed her hands on the guard captain¡¯s desk. It creaked and groaned beneath her raw strength while she leaned forward into the guard captain¡¯s face. The man looked ready to piss himself, being in such close proximity to an enraged classer¡ªone with horrifying, inhuman eyes¡ªthat both outranked him and had over a hundred levels on him was clearly more than he could take. [*ding!* You have unlocked the General Skill [Intimidating]! Would you like to replace a skill with [Intimidating]?] No, she did not¡ªbut she supposed she was glad that the System was enjoying the show. ¡°You tried to use Rangers to murder a performance artist that has barely even performed the lightest acts of vandalism, you lying sack of filth. Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn¡¯t begin a full corruption investigation into you.¡± Ranthia menaced. ¡°P¡­ please, noble Ranger! I¡¯m sorry! It¡¯s the patriarchs of the city! They were embarrassed and angry and demanded that I avenge them! I had no idea what to do and we couldn¡¯t catch the man responsible, so I thought¡­¡± The guard captain had begun to cry midway into his desperate plea, which only lowered her opinion of the man further. ¡°All of the patriarchs demanded this, did they?¡± ¡°Well, most¡­¡± A cold smile formed on Ranthia¡¯s face. Now she could use Nona¡¯s information and give the spineless fool a way out of this. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a single opportunity to make this up to me, captain. Call off your investigation into and pursuit of this civilian. The city guard are NEVER meant to be used as the tools for a handful of wealthy citizens. If you can show me that you are capable of remembering your duty, perhaps I can accept this as a one-time foolish mistake and not proof that you are bought and owned.¡± A lifeline, offered. ¡°But¡­ The citizens will still be angry¡­¡± He floundered. ¡°No one in this town is bothered by his actions, except a few pitiful men that hoard coin like destitute dragons.¡± Ranthia countered. There was a sharp intake of breath behind her, but she ignored it. ¡°By Xaoc, a halfway competent citizen should see an opportunity. This city has little to its name that can¡¯t be found elsewhere. Now you have a performance artist that could become something of notable interest for your community and there should be those who would see true value in that like¡­¡± She paused and took her hands off the desk and put them behind her back, her palm held out toward Juvenae. She could practically feel the dark-spirited woman roll her eyes, but Juvenae set her fingertip on Ranthia¡¯s palm and began to spell out the names of the citizens¡ªnamely every single powerful or wealthy citizen that N-whatever hadn¡¯t included in her list of corruption¡ªinto Ranthia¡¯s skin. It was a bit awkward, but Ranthia rattled the list off without a hitch. Hopefully. The guard captain¡¯s face shifted gradually from terrified to glum to thoughtful then, finally, to hopeful. ¡°Yes¡­ yes, that could work¡­! Of course, Ranger. I hereby give you my word that we will suspend all measures to track down the sab-¡­erm, I believe you used the phrase ¡®performance artist¡¯? ¡­Well, so long as he doesn¡¯t start to commit true crimes, of course.¡± The man hedged. Ranthia nodded. ¡°That would be acceptable, though bear in mind that I and the rest of my team will set up contacts to let us know if you go against your word. If you do decide to go after him, you better pray to your gods that you had a valid reason to do so. One that you had proven beyond the tiniest glimmer of a doubt before you acted. Because you and I are already on poor terms, captain. ¡­Should they get worse¡­¡± From there, the man¡¯s agreement became very enthusiastic and without reserve. Ranthia had no idea how Green pulled it off, but by the next day everyone in the city knew that some of the greedier citizens of the city had tried to use the guards to murder someone over peaceful acts of protest. Thankfully, the citizens that actually did anything to help their city were outright horrified by the revelation and vocally endorsed the mysterious performance artist. To Ranthia, it seemed that things in the city were promising to improve. Much of the city seemed united behind a cause in direct opposition to the collusion of the greedy few. She knew it was shamelessly optimistic of her to have so much hope, but things truly looked as if they were going to move in a brighter direction. Of course, because Ranthia was in a bright mood, an angry Tertia grabbed her tunic when she was finally ready and hauled her into her room. ¡°What were you thinking?!¡± Tertia snarled with surprising venom. ¡°What? I thought we did good¡ªwait, please don¡¯t tell me your family was involved in this corrupt¡ª¡± Ranthia started, but Tertia cut her off. ¡°No! Fuck all of that, I mean what you said to the captain of the guard! The¡­ the d-word you compared him to! Fuck, fuck, fuck! You compared them to a petty, greedy man! That¡¯s got to be bad!¡± Tertia grabbed a handful of her own hair and started to pace. Gods, she was in a cold sweat. Ranthia was so confused, but she tried to think it through. It was something she said to the guard captain. A threat? No. She doubted it was any of the citizens she¡¯d named. Sure, she had slightly botched a couple of the names, but the guard captain sure hadn¡¯t seemed to have noticed. Wait, no, Tertia said it was a comparison. ¡°Oh! You mean dragons?¡± Ranthia asked, as she tried to remember where she had heard the word. Tertia practically lunged at her and clapped her hands over Ranthia¡¯s mouth. ¡°Shut up! Shut up! Fuck! I only know about them because my father was a childhood friend of a senator who loved to leak ¡®harmless¡¯ secrets over a drink! What fucking fool told you about them without warning you that they can hear it when you say their name?!¡± Tertia hissed. ¡­Godsdamnit! Ranthia stopped just short of a very blasphemous thought¡ªshe didn¡¯t want to blame Xaoc. Even if it seemed that her chaotic fragments of knowledge had once again given her just enough information to be dangerous without very important context about the danger. All she seemed to know about dragons was their name and just a general sense that they were very powerful and very greedy¡ªwhich was clearly not enough to go on! Ranthia set her hands on Tertia¡¯s wrists and nodded to her friend as best she could. Warily, Tertia lowered her hands and allowed Ranthia to speak once again. ¡°Sorry, my¡­ source was limited to the name and greed, basically. I didn¡¯t mean to upset you, it¡¯ll be okay.¡± Ranthia promised. ¡°Unless the city is razed, and us along with it.¡± Tertia countered. ¡°You said they can hear their name, not everything. Besides, who would you visit if you were a powerful being: a nation that has forgotten you exist or one where your name is seldom spoken?¡± Ranthia offered with a grin. Tertia just sighed. ¡°Fine, if we get out of this alive, I forgive you. But I reserve the right to be very annoyed with you if we die horribly.¡± The woman offered with a tired smile. Ranthia just laughed and offered her friend a quick hug¡ªit really was nice to be able to do that¡ªbefore they bade one another a good night. It took a bit of legwork¡ªokay, so she raided the records again¡ªbut by late evening the next day Ranthia was able to find where Nona lived. The woman was more than a little surprised to find Ranthia at her door just after nightfall, but when Ranthia delivered the news about how things were shaking out, the woman was grateful. ¡­Very grateful. Ranthia left Nona¡¯s place the next morning, refreshed and feeling brightened by a night without dreams that were problematic or harrowing. With her head cleared, a lot of things that had weighed on her had finally become so much clearer. Green had been right¡ªanyone who threw their life away on a gambit that was unlikely to ultimately help anyone was no hero. It wasn¡¯t an act of bravery. It was the act of someone that had devalued themselves and sought an excuse. And she was sick of devaluing herself. She would do better. She would be better. She built her Mirror class to help her survive, so she fully intended to continue to live. And she might struggle with bringing chaos into the world, but she could still become what Xaoc wanted her to be, even if it took time. Her most recent System notifications, taken in aggregate, proved it. [*ding!* [Ranthia¡¯s Covenant with Xaoc] has leveled from 90 to level 93!] Even better, no terrible beast ever swept down to rain devastation upon the city. Book 1 - Chapter 58 - Confluence of Individuality Ultimately, Ranthia decided against checking her notifications from her battle against the ornithocheirus swarm. She wasn¡¯t sure which outcome would have been worse: the temptation that might linger in her psyche if there was a surge in her levels or a bleak reality of minimal gains in spite of the fact that it nearly killed her. The decision was made easier since, by the time her life had been saved, any new Skill offerings or non-automatic mergers would have timed out and been lost. There was only bitterness and regret to be had in what had been gained or lost. Instead, she left level notifications silenced and resolved to check them only after the conclusion of the round¡ªafter other tribulations had long buried and masked the contribution of her foolish attempt at heroics. And so, the round continued. Art¡¯s Metal class and Tertia¡¯s Gale class both got their level 256 class ups after the team dealt with a few Saber-tooth tigers that somehow relocated far away from the Kadan Jungle and had begun to hunt nearby farm animals¡ªand farmhands¡ªfor food. Abillo had recently gotten a new toy for her Mist class too, one that Ranthia was low-key jealous of. The woman could fly into the sky, immersed in her cloud! It was, admittedly, slow¡ªAbillo could walk faster than she flew¡ªbut for a flight skill it seemed to be exceedingly mana efficient, and it was flight. ¡­Arguably, Ranthia could claim that she could fly, but she personally didn¡¯t think putting a mirror image as high into the sky as she could and shifting into it before it hit the ground counted. In fact, she was pretty certain that it very much shouldn¡¯t count, considering that the numbers sure suggested that she¡¯d never be able to shift back out of the body before it hit the ground due to the range of [Reflections of Reality] and the need to channel. Not that flight was remotely useful in her kit, unless she intended to fight something in the sky for some reason. It was just awesome. They were in the depths of the rainy season that was winter, enjoying a pleasantly cool, sunny day on their round when they encountered a few members of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild on the road. Ranthia barely knew one of the men, an A-Ranked Adventurer that she had briefly met back in Ariminum before he moved on to other parts of Remus. ¡°Tuteo! You¡¯re still kicking I see, what brings you out here?¡± Ranthia called from the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Ranger, how can I¡­ wait, are you seriously that Adventurer kid from years ago? Randy, right? Wow, I knew some Adventurers who couldn¡¯t cut it had defected to the Rangers to live in luxury, but it seems to have treated you well!¡± The man replied sassily. Tulto Ambius¡ªnot Tuteo, which probably explained his ¡®Randy¡¯ barb¡ªseemed to be in high spirits, despite his situation. He had been part of a team of Adventurers that were hired to recapture a dinosaur that escaped from its tamers. They had finally tracked it way out here, but their recapture efforts had gone poorly due to its level and power. To Ranthia, Tullio was oddly cagey about specifics and seemed eager to bid them farewell and continue on his way¡ªdespite the usual Adventurer culture of being eager to catch up with a former colleague you hadn¡¯t met in years. Ranthia watched them depart and wondered what that had been about. She supposed it was likely they would soon find out. She doubted an escaped high level dinosaur in the area would be beneath the notice of the nearby towns, especially once a Ranger team showed up that could handle the matter. That night they set up their camp. Ranthia had caught a few rabbits while scouting out the location for their campsite and was in the midst of making a large pot of wild rabbit stew, with plenty of foraged local vegetables as well as a few provided by Green, along with a smaller pot of pure vegetable stew for Green. Art was singing for the others while they waited, and Ranthia found herself humming along with his song more than once. ¡°Oho, a Ranger team! What a lucky find!¡± A voice called out. The group tensed, ready for anything, even as a man approached with a large smile plastered on his face. ¡°I am Sentinel Silver, and from this moment on, the lot of you are at my disposal so my mission can go off without a hitch! ¡­Oh, nice, you even have food ready! I¡¯m famished!¡± Fuck. Ranthia could have lived another lifetime or two without being reminded of his existence. [Warrior ¨C Metal] level 346, [Warrior ¨C Metal] level 281. Ranthia watched him with a neutral expression¡ªcourtesy of all of her image training which (hopefully) kept the hostility off her face¡ªwhile he devoured over half of the food she had prepared for her whole team. A Sentinel was a major problem for a Ranger team. The Sentinels were their direct superiors, and many veteran Rangers had horror stories about Sentinels derailing their round or absconding with essential supplies. In this case, it seemed she was fated to experience both from the same first encounter with a Sentinel on the field. His hair, now dyed silver to match the title that the selfish asswipe was practically handed barely a year and a half ago, was carefully styled and a little longer than was entirely practical. He smiled at them periodically¡ªwhile he ate the bulk of their dinner¡ªwith a sleezy kind of smile that put the women on edge. Ranthia¡¯s unreasonable grudge against the man for becoming a Sentinel off a feat that was less than her own was rapidly turning into true dislike. And she suspected she was going to dip deep into hatred before their time with the man was done. That night, Sentinel Silver claimed their wagon for his sleeping quarters. He seemed surprised that none of the women deigned to join him¡ªthe wagon could sleep 8 (extremely uncomfortably) in a pinch¡ªbut the fact he didn¡¯t volunteer to share the wagon with Art spoke volumes about what he was inviting them for. Even Juvenae had no interest, thank Xaoc. Just as obnoxiously, he didn¡¯t volunteer to take a watch shift for himself. Green, Art, and Ranthia took watch shifts instead, as the highest-level members of Ranger Team 6. Privately, Ranthia suspected even Green and Art planned to keep as much an eye on him as they were going to watch their surroundings. After an uneasy night¡ªfor everyone except Sentinel Snoring¡ªthe asshole helped himself to their entire stock of cured sausages while he ordered them to spread out to find the dinosaur he had been assigned to recover on the behalf of ¡°extremely important people that you don¡¯t need to know about,¡± an abelisaurus. Ranthia tried to coordinate the team into groups of two, but Sentinel Silver vetoed the plan and told them to scatter individually armed with bows and signal arrows. He wanted to waste no time and find the dinosaur so that he could subdue it as soon as possible and ¡°get out of these backwaters already.¡± Ranthia fretted as she wandered the rocky, irregular terrain. Her team was [Mage] heavy and, frankly, wildly ill-suited to functioning as eight individuals. Few among her teammates were built for solo combat¡ªhonestly, the list probably ended with Green and herself. In her anger, she swore that if anything happened to any of her teammates, she would ensure that Sentinel Silver suffered a tragic ¡®hunting accident¡¯ and would never be seen again. She was angry and judgmental, but she was still confident that she could take the man. His mere existence had drained much of the mysticism from the Sentinels, far more than anything else she had experienced since she entered the Ranger Academy. Sure, the Sentinels had absolute monsters like Night and Hunting, but there was a clear difference between their elites and their newest dregs that were merely chosen because the better options refused. It was late in the afternoon, near evening when Ranthia finally heard¡ªand saw, thanks to the metallic dust it left in its wake¡ªone of the obnoxiously loud shrieking arrows that they were using for the signal. Obnoxiously, that didn¡¯t even narrow down who it was¡ªhis Sentinelness had insisted they all use the arrows, so there was ¡°no confusion.¡± Ranthia moved as swiftly as she could for the location the arrow had been launched from, a dance woven across the rough terrain. At last, she finally arrived. She had been far enough away that most of her team had already gathered, and she could already hear the sounds of the others as they crashed through the underbrush nearby. They had gathered at the top of a cliff, near a small waterfall caused by a stream. In the valley below there was a pond among the rocks. And there, near the pond, Sentinel Silver menaced an abelisaurus with a spear, his two short swords still on his belt. ¡°Everyone okay?¡± Ranthia asked while she joined the others in watching. ¡°Thankfully, I saw it from up here before I floated down. The stupid thing was snoozing half-submerged in the pond. Nearly missed it, would have sucked to have gotten closer before I noticed. The Sentinel told me to wait here where it was safe and jumped down there.¡± Abillo replied. Sentinel Silver¡¯s plan was¡ªgrudgingly¡ªactually decent. Harass the abelisaurus deeper into the pond, then try to bind it and¡ªpresumably¡ªfeed it some sort of sedative. The problem was that the abelisaurus seemed to be smart enough to counter the plan; it shuffled from side to side instead of moving backwards. The rest of the members of their team trickled in while they watched the show. Though Ranthia was frowning more and more as she watched the fight. The dinosaur was oddly high level¡ªlevel 320¡ªand it carried itself like it had more than a little experience dealing with human opponents. It wasn¡¯t a companion bond if it had run away, which meant¡­ The beast opened its mouth and bit Sentinel Silver¡¯s spear in half¡ªwith gleaming metal teeth. Ranthia gasped out loud. She had never seen the damned thing, but she hadn¡¯t forgotten how Statia and the other trainees she had been with had described it. Sure, she supposed there might be another gladiator abelisaurus with metal teeth, but what were the odds? She was pretty certain the beast was the same one she had fought as a trainee¡ªblindfolded, back when that actually meant something¡ªKeeeerusher! ¡­Also, why in Xaoc¡¯s eternal name was that name stuck in her memory when she struggled so hard with names?! Aside from Statia, Ranthia couldn¡¯t recall a single name for any of the other trainees that she had fought the dinosaur alongside. A few of them even became Rangers! In almost perfect synchronization with her recognition, the abelisaurus managed to get its teeth around Sentinel Silver¡¯s arm and yanked him forward. Shortly after, the man was kicking and flailing while the majority of his upper torso was trapped in the abelisaurus¡¯ mouth. Lucky for him, the Sentinel was too bulky to be swallowed and some class ability¡ªor, less likely, pure vitality¡ªmade him too tough to bite through. Didn¡¯t stop him from screaming for help though. ¡°Green, I recognize that dinosaur! It¡¯s a colosseum beast from Ariminum, not sure how it escaped or got way out here.¡± Ranthia quickly reported. ¡°And what does that change for us?¡± Green asked after a brief pause. Ranthia had no idea how she pulled it off, but she managed to get through her next words with a completely straight face and a neutral tone of voice. ¡°The dinosaur is a trained killer from the colosseum. It¡¯s gained over a hundred levels in roughly four years¡¯ time. It also reinforces itself with Skills. With these abilities and its training, it has proven itself a credible threat to a Sentinel; we should abandon all hope of capturing it alive and kill it while Sentinel Silver may still be saved.¡± Ranthia recommended, with the utmost sincerity. Something twinkled in Green¡¯s eyes. Approval? ¡°You heard your second in command¡ªwe shall bring it down!¡± Green ordered. ¡°Lysia and Art, draw its attention! Abillo, stay in the air. Tertia, wait until you have a clean shot for its heart; your goal is to be our killing blow. The rest of you, magic as you see fit¡ªjust avoid striking the Sentinel! Move!¡± Ranthia ordered once it was clear that Green was¡ªonce again¡ªdeferring to her for command. Ranthia was already channeling. A short time later, she threw a mirror image down into the valley and shifted into it. Once she charged forward to reach the dinosaur, she wouldn¡¯t quite be able to shift back to her body from there, but at least her true body¡ªwell, the conjured flesh that the [Healer] used to remake her true body¡ªwas in no danger of ending up beyond the range of [Scattered Reflections]. Ranthia immersed herself in the rhythm of her dance even as she rushed the beast that she had fought long ago. The flow of the still-igniting battle brought her next to the abelisaurus¡¯ leg before she lashed out with a [Void Edge]-infused knife. The last time she had fought ¡®Keeeerusher¡¯ (such a stupid name) she had been completely blind¡ªokay, yes, she was still wearing the same blindfold she raged about donning for that fight¡ªand her attacks were shallow, but wide. But for their rematch, not only did she see everything, but [Flowing Momentum] and [Echoes of Devastation] made her blows narrow and deep. With just her first knife, she managed to carve deep enough into the combat-trained predator¡¯s left leg that it started to stumble and clearly favored the wounded limb. Ranthia discarded the remnants of the knife while she danced away from the beast, back to dry land. Sentinel Silver might have wanted to trap the beast in the pond, but the pond would just get in the way of their efforts to kill the man-eating (hey, it¡¯s trying, it counts) dinosaur. Dry land would suit their movements far better¡ªthe last thing they needed was Lysia sinking in the mud. Juvenae had impressive range with her spells and she put it to violent use, remaining right where she was atop the cliff while conjuring thin, pointed Metal shells to be filled with Pyronox before she launched them at her target. To maximize her odds of hitting, she mostly aimed at the abelisaurus¡¯ back and haunches. Sentinel Silver was still screaming and thrashing in the dinosaur¡¯s mouth. It was kind of legitimately impressive just how determined the beast was to keep its new chew toy. Abillo came into range, cocooned within a fluffy little cloud that hovered overhead and began to rain sharp shards of ice on the back of the dinosaur. Yet the wounds were shallow¡ªthe beast¡¯s hide was quite resilient. Lysia beat her short sword against her shield to draw the dinosaur¡¯s attention, while Art stood nearby wielding a spear with a rough, unusually large tip. For the moment, Green stayed atop the cliff and watched, though Ranthia knew the veteran woman would jump in when¡ªand if¡ªshe saw the need. Green always preferred to let them get the experience when she considered the situation to be stable enough. Once the abelisaurus was on dry ground, Ranthia formed three mirror images as swiftly as she could and assigned all three to [Submind]. They were tasked with helping to drive the dinosaur further inland while they cut it as they found opportunity¡ªso long as Ranthia¡¯s mana remained fine. Ranthia, meanwhile, focused on striking at its tail to try to keep it from using the blunt, heavy appendage as a weapon. She was mostly certain that it had preferred to use its tail when she had fought the dinosaur, after all. [Void Edge] consumed knife after knife as she danced around the increasingly bloodied tail, often finding herself forced to leap over it. As she continued to cleave deeper and deeper into the dense muscles the dinosaur often started to turn towards her, but fortunately Lysia and Art managed to draw its attention back each time¡ªnot that Ranthia could spare much attention for how they did it. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! The fight wore on as abelisaurus blood flowed. The pace of the battle shifted when Abillo called she was low on mana before she retreated to the cliff. Pyra had, wisely, chosen to stay back since her abilities needed close range to have the accuracy to avoid causing problems for Ranthia. And, yes, Sentinel Silver was still trapped between the abelisaurus¡¯ teeth¡ªthe dinosaur was clearly determined to keep its prize at all costs. Juvenae stopped firing her own barrage shortly after Abillo¡¯s mana was tapped out. The dinosaur seemed to refuse to hold still, so Tertia still held her attack ready while she waited for a clean opportunity. The abelisaurus was, unfortunately, almost certainly intelligent enough to recognize the threat she posed once she attacked, so it was better to hold her in reserve for a single decisive blow. With the pressure decreased, the abelisaurus suddenly charged directly at Lysia. So much for its leg being too badly damaged for it to use its full range of motion! Ranthia cursed as she danced after the beast. She was getting dangerously low on knives, but once she caught up to the leg that she had previously damaged, she pirouetted and unleashed the best blow she could manage into the same wound she had previously given it. That time she was pretty sure that her Void-kissed blade found bone. ¡­Which meant that she was positioned quite poorly. A heartbeat later, the dinosaur¡¯s leg crumpled under its weight and the heavy beast began to fall towards her. Ranthia¡¯s scramble to get clear was far from graceful, but she managed to roll clear before she was crushed under Kee¡ªnope, she refused to finish that thought, it was too stupid. The beast immediately began to thrash, but thick vines erupted from the ground and seized the dinosaur and held it still¡­ When the dinosaur was slammed into the ground a second time by the vines, Sentinel Silver finally freed himself with a roar of effort. His armor was scuffed and torn, but his skin was remarkably intact. Reddened and chafed, yes, but it really was impressive that he was in such good condition after spending that long crunched in those metal jaws. The man opened his mouth to say something, his face filled with fury. And that was when Tertia¡¯s spear flew right past him and sank deep into the abelisaurus¡¯ chest. [*ding!* Your party has slain an [Abelisaurus] (Metal, level 323)!] Sentinel Silver was upset. Ranthia wasn¡¯t entirely certain if he was upset about the dinosaur¡¯s death or if it had more to do with just how long he had remained trapped in its jaws. The man was clearly building himself up to yell at the assembled Rangers. ¡°We¡¯re lucky you were able to endure, Sir. We were forced to use lethal force since the caster monster had proven itself to be a threat to a Sentinel. As mere Rangers we lacked the confidence to try to subdue it without your assistance.¡± Green announced right before he could start. Gods and goddesses, it was hard for Ranthia to hold her tongue. She outright bit her own tongue as she swallowed a thousand and twenty-four insults. Though she was also more than a little distracted by the sight of the arcanite she could see gleaming through the myriad holes in the man¡¯s armor. Freaking Sentinels got the best stuff! Tragically, she somehow doubted her teammates would be down with the idea of murdering him and taking his armor off his body. ¡­Unless, maybe, if he did something stupid? ¡°Mm, yes, that makes sense.¡± The man decided at length, plainly mollified by Green¡¯s diplomacy. Ah well, maybe someday¡­ Sentinel Silver finally dismissed them, and they made their way back to their wagon. In the end, they had slain a tough dinosaur and gotten a Sentinel out of their hair at the cost of some food and a wasted day. That really could have gone worse, in so many different ways. He didn¡¯t even bother to raid their stores again after the battle, the Sentinel was in far too great a hurry to return to Ariminum. ¡°That was amazing.¡± Tertia spoke up once they were completely confident that the man was long gone, complimenting Green earnestly. ¡°I have known more than a few Sentinels of similar personality and plenty of senators, dearie. A bit of flattery applied at the right moment tends to misdirect and counter their anger.¡± Green answered with a smile. They were still preparing to get underway; the man had made an utter disaster out of their supplies. ¡°Yes, but I really thought for a moment there that Ranthia was going to attempt to kill him, yet with a bit of flattery you averted a disaster.¡± Tertia noted with a smirk. ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not that violent.¡± Ranthia protested immediately. ¡°¡­You are one of the closest friends that I have ever had, and I cherish you. But to be blunt? Girl, you were already tallying the loot you could have taken off his body.¡± Tertia replied. Several of the others giggled while Ranthia tried¡ªin vain¡ªto argue that she had never considered it. The round resumed. Some idiots had tried to set up a protection racket in the town that came a couple of stops later. The guards had been loath to deal with them because the group had a pair of level 160-ish classers that were distant relations to some wealthy family. Ranthia had never heard of the family, but Tertia got nervous, which said enough. Not that Ranthia or Green were about to let petty politics get in the way of doing their job. The team of Rangers made short work of the organization and the two classers¡ªwho were shut down by Green while the rest of them handled the effluvia¡ªwere delivered to the town guard with a condemning report on their crimes from Green. It was unlikely their limited political connections could get them out of that. That was their most interesting ordeal through that leg of Remus, though of course other minor situations were resolved. A burglar apprehended, more dangerous beasts culled (dangerous to towns and dangerous to Rangers were very different things), or a couple of corrupt guards that they were able to catch¡ªthings that were almost mundane by that point. And, yes, Ranthia did try¡­ teaming up with Juvenae once, per the surprisingly persistent woman¡¯s repeated invitations. While they worked well together, there was an obvious problem that, somehow, they both missed until it became awkward. Vitality from their levels, coupled with Remus¡¯ penchant for thin indoor walls and, well¡­ some things were never meant to be overheard between coworkers. They hastily agreed to end their partnership for such matters and go their separate ways for their pursuits in the future. Spring came, and soon the team would be making a stop that Ranthia actually looked forward to. Her return to Sardonia, after so many years. She hadn¡¯t managed to visit her favorite town with Ranger Team 13 in the previous round, but Green had gotten them back perfectly on schedule. They cut their arrival so close that Ranthia had to run ahead of the wagon to beg and cajole the guards¡ªneither of which were familiar¡ªto wait up for the wagon before they left their station for the night. The guards grumbled¡ªonly somewhat good-naturedly¡ªbut complied. After the wagon was safely in the town the group enjoyed a hot bath in a very familiar bathhouse, poor Art alone on the other side. With the grime of the road left in the baths, the Rangers found an inn that hadn¡¯t even existed the last time Ranthia had been there, in the newer part of town that used to be much emptier, and settled in. The next morning, Ranthia rose bright and early and applied her cosmetics, as per Green¡¯s policy. She had finally gotten some proficiency at doing her own makeup and admired the results of her latest work, an experiment in slightly heavier cosmetic use around the upper cheeks and her brow¡ªand around her eyes beneath¡ªto better blend with her blindfold, in the mirror. [*ding!* [Sexy] has reached level 237!] Ranthia smiled at the notification¡ª[Sexy] was the only level notifications she had reenabled, because they always brightened her day. And the Skill really did love having a team leader that insisted on cosmetics and making use of their appearance skills. Ranthia had taken a while to warm back up to [Sexy]¡ªthe skill inevitably reminded her of Hexara¡ªbut she had found her peace with it a fair while ago. She was in love with the Skill again and had pursued new ways to make her blindfold-covered face more attractive. ¡°Maybe if I get [Sexy] up past level 512 or so I¡¯ll find a way to make my actual eyes somehow attractive¡­¡± Ranthia grumbled to herself. She wasn¡¯t convinced that she¡¯d ever adapt to her current eyes, no matter how Lysia¡ªand only Lysia¡ªcomplimented them. With that done, she geared up in her Ranger armor¡ªher personal Adventurer armor was so tempting but she was on duty¡ªand made sure she had her old Adventurer¡¯s Guild token. ¡°Time to show my original Guildmaster just how far I¡¯ve come.¡± Ranthia informed her reflection in the crude metal mirror. ¡°I¡­ What? What do you mean?¡± Ranthia was shaken. ¡°He passed away several years ago, it was before my time here.¡± A female clerk had a bored expression as she clarified what she had meant by ¡°he¡¯s not here anymore.¡± ¡°I¡­ Oh. Apologies, he had helped me out a lot back when I was an Adventurer here.¡± Ranthia muttered. ¡°I see, does the Ranger have any other business with our Guild?¡± The clerk asked in her same detached, indifferent tone. ¡°No.¡± Ranthia replied coldly. She was feeling far too petty to thank the woman for her time, especially with the woman¡¯s attitude. The Guildmaster was dead and gone. His husband had passed a short time before, and their boyfriend had long since left town. Sardonia didn¡¯t do anything to mark or commemorate the dead, there was just the typical Remus-style funeral pyre and party, both of which were done long ago. Ranthia desperately wished that she had visited beforehand, but all she could do was send Xaoc a very late prayer on behalf of the men. The Guildmaster had done so much for her, but she never got to show him what she had done with that trust. ¡­Though the man had never spoken fondly of the Rangers¡ªwhich she had spent days fretting about¡ªbut it seemed she would never know how he would have taken the news. It was a strange feeling. Sardonia had grown outward further than it had been before, and now the older part of the town¡ªwhat used to be the heart of it¡ªfelt empty. Many businesses and homes that she had known back when she was young were just boarded up and abandoned. The alchemists she bought her mana potions from were both gone. The housing building with the built-in tavern for the Adventurers was gutted and abandoned. None of it was the homecoming she had expected¡ªnot that Sardonia was truly much of a home anymore¡ªthough she supposed it could be worse. The town was still there, at least. Even if it was filled with unfamiliar faces and everyone lived in unfamiliar places. Ranthia just kind of wandered around town more-or-less aimlessly. She could¡ªand would if called on it¡ªargue that she was patrolling to discover problems, but it would be a strained version of the truth. When she was a teenager, the town had felt so comfortable and warm, but now she just felt like a stranger. It was a weird feeling. At least until Ranthia spotted a familiar profile of a woman standing near a market stall. ¡°Wait¡­ Bex, is that you?¡± Ranthia called out as she approached. ¡°Huh? Ranger, do I¡­ Wait¡­ Oh, I do know you! That little pup, Ranthia!¡± Bex turned to face her with an expression that first showed confusion, then bloomed into recognition along with a brilliant smile. Ranthia¡¯s own expression went through almost the exact opposite reaction though. When Bex turned to face her, the movement revealed that the other half of Bex¡¯s face was scarred and her right arm was completely gone, along with a good portion of her shoulder. ¡°Heh, yeah, Sardonia really isn¡¯t the same anymore, is it? I barely recognize anyone at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild anymore. After the Guildmaster and his family were gone, some outsider merchant bought our old tavern and dorms, chased off the Adventurers, and tried to make it some fancy inn. Place didn¡¯t even last a season before it shut down.¡± Bex grinned viciously at the memory. They sat in a local tavern, where they both slowly sipped at their respective beers. Neither of them wanted to get drunk, especially not that early in the day, but it felt like a conversation that needed a bit of alcohol. Bex had carefully kept the conversation directed at the Adventurer¡¯s Guild and changes to the city as she shared tidbits¡ªblatantly avoiding information about herself. ¡°Augh, okay I¡¯m going to just come out and ask,¡± Ranthia grumbled, ¡°what in Xaoc¡¯s name happened to you?¡± Bex laughed. ¡°Y¡¯know, I had actually reeaally started to consider becoming a Ranger, when the news reached us that you and a bunch of others had done it. Especially since the Adventurer¡¯s Guild was looking for more of us to join up in the future. Finally decided that I didn¡¯t want to be away from my kid for two years at a time.¡± She paused to take a larger drink and drained nearly half her mug. Before she smashed loudly against the table¡ªdenting both¡ªwith sudden naked irritation. ¡°Damned mistake, that was. I might have gotten out in time otherwise. ¡°You remember those nastier-than-usual goblins you told us about? War goblins. Your big heroic accomplishment. More of ¡®em came about 3 years ago now. Nice, big group. Completely took over some of the older mines. ¡°Our new esteemed Guildmaster, some dandy from Ariminum with a family name that he preened over, had signed an agreement with one of the bigger mining companies to provide guaranteed security for the area. The company decided that war goblins a few leagues away from their territory violated the agreement and demanded we clear ¡®em out. Bloody politics and financial intrigue¡ªshit that should have never come out to this shithole¡ªit wasn¡¯t even a proper job. Just a ¡®do this and we¡¯ll figure out some coin after.¡¯ ¡°We had three A-Rankers in town, me and another couple of dozen or so B-Rankers. We all went down, while the Guildmaster followed us and barked at our heels. The plan was to set up a kill box and bait some goblins out into it. See what kind of dent we could put in their numbers. A good plan, one I was behind. ¡°The fuckers ambushed us.¡± Bex fell silent and stared at the dregs of her beer for a long moment, while Ranthia waited. ¡°We never even saw ¡®em coming. Just suddenly we got hit by big spells. It was madness. Some of the finest Adventurers you ever saw got cut down before we could even react. One of the A-Rankers gave the order to pull the survivors out, after a bit of fightin¡¯. Someone musta grabbed me, I was near Demios when he got killed, the fucking splash from the Inferno spell that got him did this. ¡°Some outsider [Healer] that was there got me healthy enough to wake me up, gave me two choices. I could pay for this level of healing or give him nearly everything I had saved to get my arm or my ugly mug back. I made my choice.¡± Bex finished. Ranthia frowned at the injustice of it. Bex had been forced into a ¡®job¡¯ she hadn¡¯t even wanted to take out of paranoia and a deal between people she barely knew¡­ ¡°Bex, I cou¡ª¡± Ranthia started. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare, girl. It¡¯d be one thing if you had somehow turned into a powerful [Healer] or maybe were romantically involved with a guy¡ªwait, no, gal in your case, sorry¡ªthat could heal me. But if you¡¯re about to offer coin so I can hire a [Healer], don¡¯t. I made my choice. My damned choice.¡± Both women sat in silence and sipped their beers for a while. ¡°Never actually told anyone this part before. I made my choice so I wouldn¡¯t pick up my sword again. I can¡¯t fight like this. Can¡¯t, not won¡¯t. It¡¯s¡­ freeing. It let me choose to spend time with my kid, instead of getting killed trying to pretend I¡¯m still young and tough. I know I¡¯m not some withered old crone, I know others much older than me still fight. But that massacre took something vital from me, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have a long career if I went back out there, if you know what I mean.¡± Bex muttered quietly. Abruptly, Bex drained the rest of her mug and slammed it down. Again. The bartender was definitely glaring their way. ¡°Anyway, glad to see you¡¯re still doing great, kid. I really am, so please don¡¯t misunderstand this. But I should go. I¡¯ve got shit to do and you¡¯re probably needed for whatever Ranger crap you do. Thanks for the beer. Catch ya around sometime.¡± With that Bex quickly stood and left, before Ranthia could even figure out something to say in response. Ranthia just sat there for a while longer in a heavy mood, then brought the two mugs¡ªher own still mostly full¡ªback to the barkeep and paid¡ªwith extra coin to cover the damage¡ªand left. Amazingly, there wasn¡¯t much to do in Sardonia as Rangers. The war goblins were still out there, maybe a two-day trip away, but the town and mining groups had established something of a truce with the monsters. The town and miners would leave food and supplies that had started to go off out for the goblins to take and, in return, the goblins stayed put. The town never asked Ranger Team 6¡ªnor any of the prior Ranger teams¡ªto deal with the goblins and Green refused to risk the team for no reason when Ranthia tried to bring it up. Ranthia¡¯s mood stayed heavy, which was somewhat worsened by the fact that she never managed to run into Bex again while they were in town. Eventually they moved on, and the round continued. The heaviness gradually left Ranthia once they were back on the move. Ranthia¡¯s 25th birthday was actually celebrated, just the same as most birthdays for the team were. A leisurely camp in the morning, a bit of travel, and an early camp that evening while they celebrated within their means. A few fine beverages, a big stew¡ªrabbit, of course¡ªand some candied sweets that could hold up to travel. Even on the rare occasions someone¡¯s birthday coincided with time spent in a town¡ªRangers spent far more time on the road than they did in towns¡ªthey still followed a similar pattern. Most of Ranthia¡¯s team had enough sense to realize why Ranthia ignored her birthday last year. Pyra started to ask at one point, but Juvenae cuffed her before she could. And yet, it had been less than a year since Ranthia nearly killed herself fighting a flock of ornithocheirus like an idiot. In some ways, she still didn¡¯t feel like her skin was her own still¡ªespecially since she had to get her healing topped off every season or so. Conjured material just¡­ went away gradually. Enough of her body was conjured after the [Healer] saved what was left of her life that it posed major risks to her health, so she had to keep getting topped off. Green wasn¡¯t even sure how long it would take for her body to have replenished itself to the point that she no longer needed it. Every time she was topped off the [Healer] of the moment reported that mana was used. Ranthia¡¯s flesh wasn¡¯t her own, and so she decided not to create a new image for her 25-year-old self. The 24 version was good enough for now. Morose thoughts of her own physical state aside, Ranthia appreciated the birthday spent among her comrades. Tertia was the only one she felt a close friendship with, but there was genuine warmth with all of them. The team meant a lot to her, and she still wished Hylla was there too. The rest of their round passed comparatively quietly and relatively routinely. As the Summer Solstice approached and their final destination as a team¡ªAriminum itself¡ªgrew ever nearer, each of the group faced their return with mixed emotions. They had truly come together; they were a well-oiled team. They knew and trusted one another. And yet all they could do was try to cherish what was left of their time together¡ªRanger Command always shuffled teams every time. It was something that Ranthia had never thought about, but now that she had found a team she thrived alongside, it was hard to accept the practice. What was the point of honing them, only to separate them afterwards?